Best of the Outdoor Bloggers: I Don't Wear Pink Camo to the Woods

© 2010 Albert A Rasch™ and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles
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Best of the Outdoor Bloggers:
Friday Fishing Fun (Knot)

One of the newest blogs for me is Kari Murray's I Don't Wear Pink Camo to the Woods. I actually found her blog through one of my "Blog Hopping" expeditions, and I was so enamored with it that it went straight to my favorites, blog roll, and Saturday Blog Rodeo. Kari is a Toxophilite (Go look it up... I had to!) and we all know what a turn-on that is! She's married to a swell outdoorsman of a guy and has an awful cute little fellow that is bound to be an accomplished fisherman and hunter in his own right before long.

So without further blabbing let's dive right into this installment of The Best of Outdoor Bloggers!

Good Hunting!
Albert Rasch
The Hunt Continues...

Friday Fishing Fun (Knot)

In my last post I had stated that I was recently inspired to count my Blessings in a BIG way. This is the story of that inspiration. Given not by the beauty of nature but rather its wrath. 

It takes place on Friday, April 2nd 2010.

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As the afternoon rolled in they sky looked as if there could be a possibility of perhaps a sprinkle or two heading our way. That’s nothing serious to me though. After many years of being rained on I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am not sweet enough to melt simply by getting a bit wet. So the day’s plans stood. Little man off to G-Ma’s and Pa’s to decorate Easter eggs and Hubbin’ and I off to the Chippewa River to catch some crappies.

We put the boat in on Lake Wissota then traveled around to the not-so-secret secret spot (given away by all the boats there to drop anchor). It was the perfect day for fishing in my eyes with temps hitting around 70 and the sky being just a bit cloudy. My biggest complaint of the day thus far was without the rays of the sun, I couldn’t properly try out my new X-ray Fish Glasses. Those are the polarized ones for those of you who don’t speak in Kari-izms yet. (And if you think that’s bad, might I add that I also own a Fish Purse, more commonly known as a tackle bag, to those of you who angle.)




As we sit anchored, truly enjoying just the fact that we are outside together, Hubbin’ graciously showed me what I was doing wrong tying on my lures. One loop short, (kind of sounds like the story of my life! lol!) but I’ve certainly got it now and feel well on my way to being more independent when it comes to the things of fishing. In fact I even suggested that it would be nice to be able to run the boat by myself but have since retracted that thought. In a minute you will see why.

My new lures.

We fish for about a half an hour or so without a bite. I have to admit that I was focusing on how to retrieve my new lures so intently that if a fish would have struck, I may have made a fool of myself by screaming like an excited school girl seeing the boy band of her dreams. I’ve never really fished with lures before, just the ol’ trusty bobber and worm combo, so all of this is very new to me. After a bit with no action, Hubbin’ made the decision to try a different spot directly across the river.




As the anchors were set down and I made couple of quick casts, the sky began to grow dark at a rapid pace. I look up from the water to see my Hubbin’ starring off into the distance at the incoming clouds. He casually turned to me and said, “Oh look, lightning.” Well even I’m no dummy when it comes to this.

Metal Boat + electricity coming from the sky + water = Deep Do-Do!

It’s time to close up shop and now. We rush to button up the boat, quickly bringing up the anchors, and make it no more then 20 yards before encountering the inspiration behind me sharing with you the suggestion of taking stock of the good in your life. My own scaled down storm version of Deadliest Catch.



It came on in a blink of an eye. First the rain starts. We’re not talking the nice, gentle spring sprinkles that are fun to dance around in either mind you, but rather the ones that come out of the sky the size of small stones that sting when they hit the skin and have every intention of knocking you out. You know the ones that you are sure are going to leave your skin bruised and battered? Yeppers, those ones.

Next, happening as fast as the rain came, the wind starts in. Oh my gosh the wind starts in! I would not even think about describing it to you as the hold on to your hat kind of wind. OOOOOHHHH NNOOOO! Not this wind. It was the hang on to anything in sight because keeping your hat is the least of your problems at this point in time kinda wind! It funneled up that river channel like a race car on steroids. Bending the trees like blades of wheat in the wind. (Local weather reports mentioned 40 mph straight line winds with gusts in some spots reaching up to 70mph!)

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Alright, this is the point of the story in which I feel the need to remind you all that I don’t swim. Sure I could swim good enough to save my life in calm water, using purhaps the dog paddle or back float. I'm also certain that I could save my son if I need be because all those Super Mom powers would kick in but am I comfortable in the water? No. Could I swim in a storm?  Nope.

Do I think everything is going to turn out okie-dokie at this point in time?

No freakin’ way! 
I certainly going to, going to,
 die!

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Immediately upon realizing my impending death, the boat comes all the way up out of the water so that I can clearly hear the propeller circulating around in the air over the noise of the storm. Then, if that wasn’t enough to scare the absolute shit out of me, the boat then twists sideways on the way down. The side I’m sitting on entering the water first. I was sure it was going to flip and I believe that my hubbin’, who is forever fearless in my eyes, felt the same way. For when I glanced at him through the downpour, he is white as a ghost.




Water repeatedly crashes over the side of the boat and is slamming it up and down so violently that I am flying a foot off the bottom of the boat each time. Why am I on the bottom of the boat you may ask? Because I am hoping being wedged between the side of the live well and the seat while hanging on for dear life while praying for the Good Lord to please spare my life, will some how do just that.




I hear Hubbin’ calmly yell out to me that he hopes that he can keep the boat from flipping when we get to the lake but he’s not sure. Either way he needs me to try to crawl to his end of the boat to hit the bilge button. So I pry my finger nails out of the seat and get flung down to his end with one foul swoop. I find the button and hit it, some how feeling a bit safer that I am right next to my man. (It’s because I know he’s a good swimmer and he‘d save me.) I look up at him and for a split second he looks at me. I’m hoping in my heart of hearts that he is going to tell me that everything will be all right. Boy that was wishful thinking! He gives me the next set of instructions, “you need to get back to the front of the boat because I need the weight up there.” WTF?? What do I say to that? I tell you what I say to that: nothing. For the first, and probably the last time in my life, I say absolutely nothing to that.

After what seemed like forever, which in all actuality was more like 20 minutes, we move off the river and onto the lake. At this point in time the storm is done beating us with her wrath and is merely a nuisance but I didn’t care. I wanted out of that boat and was poised to bail when I saw the boat launch. Matt actually had to yell at me not to get out yet because we weren’t close enough. But I had already quit listening and frankly didn’t care. Out of the boat, into freezing cold water up to my knees and on to shore.

Thank you Dear Lord! I'm ALIVE!!!

Safe at last.
(Can't tell where my life jacket was at all!)

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So there you have it, my tale of inspiration. 
You know that saying- I’ve never been so scared in my life? 
Let's just say that I’m hoping to never use it again!

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My friends, that is our third installment of "Best of the Outdoor Bloggers," our new weekly series. I want to thank Kari Murray of  I Don't Wear Pink Camo to the Woods for allowing me to share her tale of heroism and fortitude, Friday Fishing Fun (Knot) everyone. If you have a post that you are particularly proud of, or if you want to look at your Analytics and check out what your # 1 post is, please feel free to forward it to me and I will gladly post it and link to it like there's no tomorrow to your blog!


Best Regards,
Albert A Rasch
Member:Kandahar Tent Club
Member: Hunting Sportsmen of the United States HSUS (Let 'em sue me.)
The Hunt Continues...