While we were on our little getaway we went fishing. I would not call myself the outdoors type at all. My husband, on the other hand, finds the outdoors to be his mecca. Many times Tim will have to “talk me into” doing outdoor adventures. Once I am on these adventures I really do enjoy myself, it is the getting me there that is difficult. I knew going on this trip to Helen we would be doing a lot of outdoor things. I had already mentally prepared myself so my husband didn’t need to convince me at all. I willingly went hiking, fishing, and trail walking.
I used to go fishing as a little girl in my neighborhood pond for blue gills. That was always fun. My favorite Uncle Geno took me fishing on the Fox River many times. I remember making “wheatie balls” to put on the hook (basically soggy wheaties packed tight). I think I just loved being with my uncle more than the fishing part.
My husband grew up finishing on the Wildcat Creek, which is in the Chatahooche National Forest, with his buddies in high school and was excited for me to experience this. The whole time I am singing Alan Jackson’s,
“Way down yonder on the chattahoochee,
it gets hotter than a hoochie coochie ,
Yeah way down yonder on the chattahoochee
Never knew how much that muddy water meant to me
But I learned how to swim and I learned who I was
A lot about livin and a litttle bout love “
I am not sure if Wildcat Creek flows into the Chatahooche River or not, but I would like to think my song fit the day. My husband was just laughing at me. Ok back to the day… fishing in a raging river is WAAAY different than sitting in a boat waiting for your bobber to sink. When you fish in a river like this you cast your line (without a bobber) and wait until the line floats towards you and then reel it in and then cast it again. You do this over and over until you catch something.
And my dear hubby is WAAAAY nicer than my Uncle Geno– he took the fish off my hook, strung it, and gutted it and took care of the nasty part – he said that is boy position (translation = a man job). And I will take it.
My poor hubby just caught two baby fish that he had to throw back. Here is one of the little guys before we threw him back.
Lookie what was for dinner. A rainbow trout feast. I wasn’t in my own kitchen and had limited spices but it was tasty just the same. I felt so “pioneer womanish” eating my own catch.