Come Monday...

Luckily, the Internet service at our campground was misbehaving most of the weekend.  Fine with me.  But, now that I'm back in the chair for another four days of punishment work, some of the Little Voices® won't let me focus until I toss something into the blog.

The fishing was great on Saturday.  I spent a few hours back at the stretch where Eddie and I fished a couple of weekends ago.  A couple of trout did me the favor of self-releasing when pulled in close, which is surprisingly easy with crushed barbs.  Two more came to hand, including another MN Driftless brook trout.  I had chef duty at noon, so I hiked back to the vehicle, cringing as I tip-toed though a large patch of blooming wild parsnip.  Danger, Will Robinson, danger.

Brats and hot dogs were grilled and consumed, then a 90-second walk down the creek to the "dog leg" hole.  A few casts, a nine inch brown, and a satisfied stroll back to the Mobile Hotel®.  Two waves of thunder and rain turned the nearly-clear creek waters into chocolate milk.  No worries.  I'm pleased as punch that my new toy angling tool was properly "broke in" on its first outing.