The Temperatte Angler’s Blog by JT

“Good evening, everyone, I’m NOT Kerri-Lee Halkett”.

Ok, so here’s the deal. (That’s my JennFred Impression. And, oh, Jenn, imitation is the sincerest form of flatterty.

  I normally don’t fish on opening day. I haven’t  since I was a kid. Last winter my buddy Dave and I were returning from a trip up north and we stopped to look at the Delaware River in the town that Dave grew up in. (If you guessed Lamberville, N.J., you may already be a winner !)  That’s when Dave told me about how the Station Restaurant used to be the train station, it used to be a shell, and he and his friends used to shoot pigeons there. “We used to walk down the  street with our bb guns”.

  I’m no pigeon spokesman, but I’m sure they were glad when Law and Order finally arrived in Lambertville.

   We walked the path between the river and the canal, and we stopped at a certain spot.and Dave said, “See this spot ? I fish opening day for trout here. I have since I was a kid”.(We’re talking almost 40 years). “I brought my 2 boys here every year, and then Kenny started coming with us and he brought his boys.”

    We stood at a steel pipe railing on the canal and Dave continued to reminisce.

 At first we fished from the other side. Then they put that fence up (a six foot chain link fence),so you couldn’t fish there.But in the summer, we would stick our poles through the holes in the fence and fish anyway.” ( Now THAT’S dedication!)

“ Then, we started fishing from this side, this railing wasn’t here then (on both sides of the canal, it’s about a 12 foot drop to the water), and one year, a kid fell in (the kid survived) and you couldn’t fish here no more, but then they put the railing in and you could.”

 ”And last year, so and so( a man) fell in over there, and the year before, his daughter fell in in the same spot.(this spot is level with the water).

  And as Dave was describing these things, I had no trouble picturing them; people fishing shoulder to shoulder, kids falling in, I’ve experienced similar things in years past. it’s not a WHOLE lot different from when a bunch of brides and their bridal parties descend on that store to get a wedding dress.

   But, bottom line….ya can’t eat a wedding dress . 

   Then, Dave told me about the breakfast.

  Later on, when the 3 of us were fishing, Kenny described it also….

  “We get there about 5AM to make sure we get our spot, but you can’t fish until 8AM on opening day. We’d have the kids, and we’d buy ‘em breakfast and buy ‘em donuts and still, they were always hungry, and we had 3 hours to kill, so we said, heck, we both have coleman stoves from camping, why not cook breakfast while we’re waiting.”

    So, for about the last 15 years or so, they’ve tailgated a big breakfast. And, I mean a BIG breakfast.

   And when either of them tell this story, they emphasize that they were the first ones to do it..and, I believe them. And as Kenny says, “And it smells sooooo good”.

 (And before I experienced it, I could empathize. One time, I was out on the ocean on a party boat in November, and it was COLD ! (big surprise there, huh ?) . I had brought sandwiches, but after we anchored and were fishing for awhile, they fired up the grill inside the shack and started selling food. And, it smelled soooo good. I went in a bought a cheeseburger and went back out to resume fishing and eat my burger. I took a bite and it was delicious. When I went to take a second bite, the meat squirted out from the bun and I was left with 2 halves of a toasted, soggy bun. ) Now, THAT’S greasy !

    “Then, everybody started doing it. One year, there were trucks lined up as far as you could see, and they ALL were tailgating.”

    They asked me if I wanted to go this year and I said, heck yeah.

  Because it’s history, and tradition and while I love to fish, I love that kinda stuff just as much.I love to hear people’s family stories (and hey…we’ve all got ‘em !) and how married people met and just…people stories.

    One time, an old timer came into the hardware store where I work and wanted a copy of a key. I can usually match up a key to the right blank, but sometimes I have to ask my boss, (who has been doing this for almost forty years) and I’ll say, “I’ll have to ask obi Wan kenobi about this one”.

    But that night, I was alone, and I was having trouble matching it up, so I asked him, “What does this key go to ?” (it turned out to be a basic Master padlock key, but the head was much different than the ones today - it was bigger and had elaborate designs pressed into it.)

   The guy said “that key is from the padlock on my locker when I was in the Navy in 1943.”

   Then, I located the key.

   I asked him “what did you do in the Navy in 1943?”

   “I was a Gunner’s Mate”.

   “Business was pretty good for a Gunner’s Mate in 1943, huh ?”

 ”Yeah, too ÐÃMN good !”

   And, he proceeded to tell me a story about a time when he watched an enemy torpedo approach his ship and go completely underneath the keel and continue on without exploding.

   And, ya know, that was the only time I saw that guy, and in my life, I’ve known some  people to embellish the truth, and there have been occasions when I’ve  known some people to manufacture the truth.

  But, I believe that guy.

   Where was I ?

  Oh, yeah, Lambertville.

     The last time I saw Dave before Opening Day, he told me “It’ll be me, you and Kenny and my son’s coming down from Upstate N.Y. with his friend Ronnie and Ronnie’s cousin.”

  “Wait’ll you see Ronnie. This kid is HUGE ! I could cook for him all morning and he would STILL be hungry. His head is as big as a watermelon”.

    On Saturday, April 5, 2008 , Dave and I arrived at THE spot at 5AM.

   His son and his friends were already there. There was also another pickup truck there. We said hello’s and intro’s all around (my hand disappeared into Ronnie’s when we shook).but, it was dark and I couldn’t get a good look at his head.

   “What time did you get here,?” Dave asked his son.

   “About 4:30″.

    “What time did they get here?”

  “About ten minutes later”.

  ”That means I gotta get here earlier next year”. 

   I didn’t know this but, apparently it’s legal for kids that are over 18 but under 21 to go to “Gentleman’s Clubs” or “Go-Go Bars” (I don’t think they call them that anymore), they just can’t consume alcohol.

    Dave’s son and his friends did that the night before and went right to THE spot afterwards.(It’s GREAT to be young !)

   Then, Kenny showed up.

   We stood around in the dark and shot the breeze and told fishing sories as other cars and trucks arrived.

   Time passed pretty quickly; it wasn’t real cold out and about 6:15, Kenny and Dave said “we’d better get started”.

    And they broke out their Coleman stoves and cooked pork roll, sausage,potatoes and scrambled eggs. With a choice of apple juice, orange juice or milk (1 % !) .

    I had a sandwich of pork roll, sausage and cheese with eggs and potatoes on the side.And, the presence of Ronnie notwithstanding, I had seconds on the eggs and potatoes.

   (We fished until 11:30 or so, I went home and had a nap, and Dave called me around 3Pm to talk about going out that night for walleye, and said “you should probably grab something to eat” and I said “I’m still cruising on that breakfast” (but I did grab a bite) and he said “”you’re like a 20 inch fish that swallowed a 10 inch minnow” and hey, I’ve been called worse things.

    I caught 4 brook trout (and lost two) and I had a GREAT time. I’ve certainly caught more fish and bigger fish before, but this time I was a part of history and tradition and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

    Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I tried not to stare at Ronnie’s head, and I didn’t whip out a tape measure (although I carry one when I’m fishing in case I catch a DUDE !).

    But, I did scope it out.(Surreptitiously).

   Yep, a watermelon. One of those ones that are too big to be round.