Spring Trout Camp 2024
I got a call from Natch on Wednesday afternoon saying he couldn’t take it any longer. He was going to cut out of work early and head up to our remote spot on the Pine River. Would I be interested in heading up tonight (rather than in the morning)? I asked if he was serious, always a concern, and he said yes. Fortunately, I had just returned from my Meijer trip for groceries so nothing was stopping me. We met at trout camp around 7:00 pm.
We had an art challenge this spring – make a smoking pipe or a walking stick. Natch came through again with a killer pipe reminiscent of North American Indian tribes, and a polished walking stick/cane with a knob handle that was face-like. I combined a walking stick and a pipe with the idea it would resemble half bone and half wood. At the very top a section turns sideways to access the bowl. When closed it traps the mixture so it won’t fall out.
While mushroom hunting Jake came across a vintage lawn chair with most of the webbing gone – but has nice metalwork. I don’t know about having a camp chair challenge, we talked about it, but Jake rebuilding that chair with new webbing sounds interesting. Note how the legs taper down to a quarter inch. Impressive metal forming – not sure how they accomplished that.
Natch has been on a mission to buy some vintage air pistols and he found some real classics. A couple Diana model 5s, a Webly Tempest and a Hurricane, a model 137 Benjamin Franklin (like mine), various CO2 pistols and everyone’s favorite: a pre-war Hubertus with an art deco design and a simple mechanical action that has inspired Feral and Jake to consider building one in their machine shops. (another T.C. challenge?)
Feral had his Hy-Score and a vintage Benjamin Franklin BB rifle I hadn’t seen before. That was another group favorite. It’s a multi-pump with a rod that pulls out below the barrel. The finish is worn down to brass in places. Very nice. Jake had his pre-war Webly Mark 1, and I had the rebuilt Diana model 6 (see earlier post) along with a vintage Gamo Falcon from the 70s. Natch had a chronograph so we could check pellet speeds. We set beer cans on stumps turned them into colanders.
I brought my maple-bodied Ventura camp guitar and also a new/used Cajon box drum I found on marketplace. I thought it might add some steady bass rhythm. Feral played that. I am thinking about doing some Dune movie illustrations on the Cajon – call it the Dune thumper.
I did a few songs, mostly old Cat Stevens from his Tea for the Tillerman album. Feral played Hold On by Tom Waits and vowed to start looking for another acoustic guitar. Guitars, some classic, seem to go in and out of his life with regularity. I was hoping Natch would pick up on the cajon but I guess he wanted to give Feral some room to experiment.
Did we fish? The Pine River was running high and stained which is just what you hope for when the weather is sunny and clear and/or partly cloudy. It rained twice, at night, and the camp dried out quick both times. Wading was tricky so a lot of casting from the bank except where you knew the stream was shallow. No one caught anything over fifteen inches but everyone caught and saw nice fish. We had our customary trout dinner with baked beans on Saturday night.
One morning, on the way to a fishing spot, I had an owl swoop in front of my car and land in a nearby tree. I pointed my phone camera out the windshield and caught that one. Later one swooped through camp right next to me and landed on tree over the ridge in camp. Natch took a photo but it’s hard to see in the branches. The strange thing was it happened when Natch and I were commenting on the songbirds making such a loud din it seemed unnatural.
The second night it rained, on Saturday night, we didn’t notice anything different about the stream on Sunday but by Monday the stream turned muddy. Feral and Jake had to pack up and go but Natch and I fished an upper stretch of the Pine hoping the mud had cleared away upstream. It didn’t, but we managed to get in the stream and see fish, though we went fishless. The sun was out and the water was like chocolate milk. We could see our Rapalas flash below the surface.
Morel mushrooms were a bust. We can usually get enough for a skillet snack from our go-to place but two trips made it clear we were too late. That was confirmed at the Bristol Store. On the plus side, Natch and I tried out our walking sticks and I have to say: I will always be using one from here on out. It was nice for crossing over logs and just leaning against while scanning the ground for mushrooms. I didn’t light the hidden bowl but maybe I’ll try that sometime. I’m on a no-beer, no-smoking diet until I can get a mild heart problem figured out. I drank Corona NAs with limes which was almost enough to convince me I was knocking down real beer. Natch took a couple photos of a Blue Racer snake which seems to be getting more and more rare. They are not poisonous but have a painful bite so best to leave them alone.
Natch and I packed up Tuesday morning. I had a mishap on the way home. I took 131 south and took the Lansing exit north of GR and as I was rounding the ramp to I96 a tire blew out on the Scamp trailer. There was nowhere to go and very little room. I pulled onto the shoulder and changed the tire but my spare just didn’t have enough air. Lesson learned – don’t just feel the tire through the cover and guess it’s okay – pull the cover and check the actual pressure. I had to leave the Scamp on the expressway, run to the next exit and fill the tire, go back past the camper and turn around, hook up the trailer, and put on the spare. It was nerve-racking. Every time a big semi went past the trailer it would shake and I was afraid it would blow right off the jack. Online I found a new set of radials with a D load rating (more plys) and a speed rating of 81mph. And new rims. Even though I went no more than a hundred yards the rim was wrecked.
We went to breakfast in Tustin one morning and stopped at an antique shop on Mainstreet. I heard Jake laughing and he pointed to this. I was tempted to buy it out of curiosity. Was the writing as funny as the illustration?
Fichigan 