My son had a travel baseball tournament in North Charleston, SC on Saturday and Sunday. While driving up U.S. Highway ALT 17 we saw a a place called Pine Hill Business Campus that had a decent sized body of water right along the roadway. A little further up the road is the Ashley River and lots of lakes and waterways all around the area.
As we passed it on Saturday we both thought it would be a great place to try and fish because of its proximity to the ballpark, the road, parking, and a ton of fishable shoreline. So naturally, on our return trip for the Sunday games we brought our fishing poles and tackle to give it a try. The ballparks were only 10 minutes away and we planned to fish for an hour before getting to the field.
About 15 minutes in I landed a nice 3 pound largemouth on my trusty white/gray KVD spinnerbait and a Keitech trailer. After releasing it I felt some discomfort in my stomach. A lot of discomfort. Uh-oh! Then discomfort traveled a bit lower, building fast. This was not good at all. I start packing up - quickly. I yelled to my son that we had to go NOW. RIGHT NOW! But he wants just one more cast. As my own panic sets in I hear him yell, "I got one! I got one!" With my luck it will be an epic battle of boy versus fish that will last for hours.
As he lands what turns out to be about a 1.5 pounder I'm already at the car. Of course, he can't get the hook out. You've got to be kidding me! Now I'm doing the bathroom dance - and not the #1 kind. It's getting critical. He's 200 feet away and I'm afraid if I move I might erupt.
We're no where near a bathroom.
I know there's a gas station about a mile down the road.
Can I hold it? (Please Lord!)
Can I make it?
Can my son ever get that fricking hook out?
For a second I'm really, really tempted to leave him for a few minutes and race down the road at 110 mph to sweet relief. But I'm not that kind of parent.
"Just cut the line! We need to go NOW!"
He then yells to me that his fish tool is in my bag. Are you freaking kidding me? I can't even move for fear of Vesuvius erupting from my bowels!
I can't wait a second longer.
Not. One. Second.
I take a quick look around and no cars are coming and no people are around. Thankfully the bicycle riders that were nearby a few minutes earlier are gone. I drop trow alongside some sort of storage / fence area and let it rip. It landed on the ground with a disgusting "squish-plop" instead of a "thud". Of course, I have no TP or paper towels in the car (never again) so I sacrificed the underwear that I was wearing. I did have a few plastic bags to clean up my mess, but of course there wasn't a garbage can in sight. So off it goes into the trunk for the time being. He finally gets the hook out and releases the fish. Too little, too late little buddy.
The good news was that there was a Wal Mart a few miles down the road and I did not have to go commando for long. I emptied the trash from the trunk, bought some new undies, and we headed off to the ballpark. Thamkfully there was no lasting smell in the car. I can laugh at it now (and I hope you all get a chuckle) but I was pretty ticked off at the time. At least I caught a decent bass and have a new spot to fish in the future!
So, how was your day?