An Outdoorsman's Journal

Big Gills and The Ritchie Hotel

Hello friends,

       As you are about to find out, I once a gain pegged out the fun meter. I hung out with my good buddy Paul Bucher who owns The Cumberland Advocate and had some quality campfire time as well as caught a mess of very large bluegill.

      Friday, May 30th
      High 75, low 44

       Each spring and often winter Paul Bucher and I try to to get together for some sort of fishing experience. Generally there is a ton of laughter and pretty much always, we catch what we are after. Today would be no exception to the laughter part as Paul and I had to check out my lodging before we hit the water. The plan was a unique one. Paul's good friend Chris Ritchie who is in the 30ish bracket owns the prettiest 40-acres in the area and on his his property he has a deer stand fit for a king, or in this case, fit for a marsh rat named Mark Walters and this would be my home.
      Before we went fishing, the plan was to move into my home and as we pulled onto the property Chris was mowing. Pretty soon, lawn chairs were pulled out, then a tasty beverage, hours later it was getting dark and a campfire was lit, silly games were played, laughter was constant and oooopsie, we forgot to go fishing.
     In reality, Paul just finished his graduation issue, also his summer "Laker" and I have been running hard since April 1st and two good buddies decided the gills could wait till the next morning.
     Chris's shack is built for hunting but in all honesty could be lived in.

     Saturday, May 31st
     High 74, low 45

     Time to get serious and catch some pigasaurus gills like we have for about 20 springs. There is a lake with larger than average bluegill and it is so secret, you cannot even see it with a satelite and if you try to put it into your gps, it will blow up.
    Paul, Red the dog who thinks she is human and MGW are on a fish whacken mission with a pretty casual attitude. Mr. Bucher would be tossing a 1/32nd ounce hair jig, bobber with a waxie setup, I would go bare hook, half a red worm and a bobber. As always seems to be the norm my buddy had a few fatties in the livewell before I was fishing but to put it simply "I don't care".
   We caught so many 8 to 9.5 inch gills that there was a ton of you get to live releases on some fish with a pair of beautiful fillets. We spent the day in Paul's 17.5 Alumacraft Competitor and it was an easy peasy kind of day.

   Sunday, June 1st
   High 78, low 49

   My good buddy is gone till the next campfire and today I was given an assignment. I was chosen to wrestle my 17-foot canoe into a lake that is even more secret than the one we fished yesterday. This lake has the potential for 25-inch, 10-pound gills and I was just the man check it out, that might be a stretch but the rumor mill had it that there were some real pretty fish in it.
   For the first 2 hours I could not go over 10 seconds without catching a fish. Normally that would be pretty neat but in this case not a one was over 4-inches and small fish bore me. I had made the decision to try fishing by a beavers home and if I stayed in Smallville, I was going to paddle to shore, portage out and head to yesterday's honey hole.
     As soon as my red worm hit the water, my bobber vanished and the fish I had on was just over 9-inches. Just to make sure it was not a fluke I casted back to the same spot and it was "sumo" on and though it took some work, 2 hours later I was paddling to shore with a cooler of top of the line gills and that evening had a very satisfying time eating fresh bluegill and having as much fun as a pig in a mud puddle.

  My job is killing me, on the other hand, we're all dying!

  Sunset