April 14, 2008
I wrapped up an utterly exhausting week in Austin by getting 3.5 hours of sleep on Friday night, catching a 5:40 AM flight back to Columbus (via Houston), and then getting in my truck to drive 3 hours out to Bob’s farm in West Virginia. I arrived shortly after 2:00 in the afternoon, which meant I’d missed the morning fishing session at the pond (or “the tank,” as we’d call it in Texas). Carson reported (repeatedly) that he’d caught NINE FISH (little bluegills), and every other sentence out of Benton’s mouth was, “Can we go back to the pond to fish some more.”
We headed back over — Julie and Benton walking up via the hunting cabin to retrieve the gear, Carson and I taking the much steeper, but shorter, route through the ravine, and Tyler and Tami taking a 4-wheeler. No fish were harmed in the taking of the following pictures.
It turns out that the community we live in in Ohio has seven stocked ponds that, as residents, we can fish in without an Ohio fishing license. The boys are chomping at the bit to do that. Now, if only there were a couple of grandfathers chomping at the bit (or the hook, as it may be) to provide them with the appropriate tackle…