Only time will tell about rainy adventure

OPINION

Taylor Bellott and I recently arrived at the lake with only a couple of hours to spare before the clock struck midnight. Although we got a late start, that was OK. Plans were to pitch out 28 noodles, with hopes of catching a mess of catfish before the sun peeked over the horizon on the following morning.

We were even prepared for a stray shower or two, as the forecast suggested a 50% chance of rain throughout the night. That in mind, we were not overly concerned when a heavy mist began to fall just as we backed the boat into the water.

We would simply strike out to the location where we suspected one might coax a few blues and flatheads into biting and pitch out the noodles. With a little luck, the light rain would have subsided by the time our floating devices were baited and on the water. And the only challenge remaining would be to find a spot where we could stretch our hammocks and rain flies between trees.

However, we had no means of getting an updated forecast, nor could we get a look at the present radar. There was no cell service at the location where we had chosen to fish. So in a nutshell, we were depending on information that was several hours old.

We still weren't overly concerned when the light precipitation began to intensify. And we even remained calm when the rains grew so heavy that I could not see the GPS on my boat.

But I did eventually begin to worry, however, as more than two hours had transpired and the torrential rainfall had not let up. In fact, I practically had to run the bilge pump nonstop to keep water from gathering in the hull of the boat.

We clearly had no idea of how long the rains would continue. But one thing was for certain -- it was getting late and we were growing tired. And our plans of stretching hammocks were pretty much out of the question.

That in mind, we came to the conclusion that we pretty much only had one choice. We would embark upon a boat ride back to the launching ramp and would simply sleep in the truck.

I chose to load the boat back onto the trailer upon our arrival at the launching ramp. Although confident the bilge pump could keep up with the rain, a little voice in my head continued to ask what would transpire if the pump failed. Or what if my battery went dead.

Sleeping while sitting up in the front seat was hardly the recipe for a good night's rest. But I wouldn't get any sleep at all while imagining my boat slowly sinking with each raindrop. So I opted to heed the warning of that little voice that ever so persistently continued.

Well, sleep was intermittent, at best. But on a positive note, I was certainly glad that I had chosen to load the boat back on the trailer. Heavy rains were still falling every time I awoke. In fact, it was still pouring when the eastern sky finally began to lighten.

We were prepared to weather the heavy rains and gather up the noodles that we had pitched out during the previous night. But there was yet another issue that had reared its ugly head under the cover of darkness.

The wind had grown noticeably stronger. In fact, she had intensified to a point that we could hear the waves pounding against the bank before we even got out of the truck.

But in spite of the conditions, we still had a responsibility to gather up the noodles, all of which had likely blown into the midst of buckbrush. So off we went into the torrential rains, being tossed to and fro by the waves.

Well, we eventually managed to gather all of the noodles, many of which were entangled in the brush. And we even managed to catch one impressive blue cat.

To say I felt a sense of relief when we finally arrived back at the ramp and got the boat loaded back onto the trailer would prove an understatement. It was certainly an experience that I would not soon forget.

It was far from what I would have considered an enjoyable outing. In fact, some might even suggest that it was miserable. But would I do it again? Well, this wasn't the first time that I had returned to the truck drenched. It also wasn't the first time I had fished in strong winds. And I recalled sleeping in my truck seat a time or two before.

So back to the question. Would I do it again? Well, in all honesty, I must confess that only time will tell.

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