I have a pack rod. It's got it's own small foam case which holds the rod, a spinning reel, fly line reel (It's a convertible rod), and small tackle box. Pretty nifty little package that's airline friendly, light weight, and enough to fish just about anywhere. It becomes routine for me to pack it into my suitcase whenever I traveled, regardless of the time of year. It actually "lives" in the bottom of my suitcase, waiting for it's next trip. I keep 8 lb test on the spinning reel, so it's capable of catching some big fish, or being used in a trout stream also.
At the time of this story, I was in the great northwest. The trip took me from Seattle, down to Kansas and back to Seattle. I found myself in a small town early on a Friday afternoon, and could not see the client until Monday morning. Bummer, small town on a weekend without much to do.
Being single, I settled into my hotel room, completed some paperwork and sent it off via laptop and dial up, played some puter games for a little while, and went out to find some dinner. Ended up in a little dinner, and was having a few drinks with some new friends I'd made in the bar. The chat got around to fishing as we kept on drinking.
Seems the lake was frozen, and the fishing could be terrific. Best time to go was late at night, according to my slightly inebriated drinking buddies. All I'd need was a rod, reel, and big auger to bore a hole. And of course, a little spoon or lure.
Well, I had everything I'd need to fish, but no way to drill the ice. Since it was a small, friendly town, one of the locals offered me his drilling thing, and told me to just leave it at the hotel when I checked out and he'd stop by to pick it up.
Yes, there is still trust in America. Especially in them small towns.
So, while deciding what to do, I enjoyed a few more drinks, and headed back to my hotel. Had his big, ez to use drill in the car, and decided, "Why not?" and headed over to where I'd been told.
Dressed warmly, I head out onto the lonely ice, I'm the only one there, picked what I thought was a likely spot, and drilled a hole in the ice, and peered into the hole.
Now, I am not a very religious person, although I do believe in a higher authority.
As I was peering into the hole, a thought I heard a voice from above say, "There are no fish down there".
So I walked about 10 yards and drilled another hole, and was peering into it, when again I swear I heard that same voice from above say, "There are no fish down there."
Hmmm. I walk about 20 yards away and drilled another hole, and was peering into it when once again I heard that voice from above say, "There are no fish down there."
I was pretty inebriated, but not that much. I raised my head, looking toward the heavens and asked, "God, is that you?"
And the voice from above said, "No, you idiot, I'm the rink manager."
