Fishing with the Runt and the Pickle

By Jack Elliott
Contributor

Those September blues
It happens to me at about this time every year. I get depressed. The very thought of having to start school just gets me down. Will it never end? But wait, I don’t go to school anymore. Haven’t for the better part of half a century. And I’m not a school teacher. I don’t even drive a bus. So I have nothing to be depressed about! Whew!
Time to cheer up and count my blessings.
The garden is producing flat out with enough tomatoes to satisfy even my appetite. The zucchinis I admit have kind of gotten out of hand. Just leave your car unlocked and I will drop a dozen or so off. The mosquitoes can still be a bit vicious, but can’t drain you dry in ten minutes flat like they can in June.
Space at the debating table at the Bakery in Rainy River is once again at a premium as the school bus drivers resume their attendance. Maury’s giggle overpowers the cacophony as he whips out his smart phone to display the latest internet joke.
“Hey Sharilyn, the wifi isn’t working. Did you change the password again? I’ll have an order of toast,” he chortles as he elbows his way into the table.
Pickle and the Runt were of course in regular attendance. Now retired Pickle is devoting full time to dispensing wood splitting, fishing, and hunting advice.
Yes everything’s back on a nice even keel.
Fired up the pontoon boat the other evening and with Pickle and the Runt as guides headed out on the river to see if the walleye were following the shiners up the river.
“Right here. Slow’er down! What’s the depth? Easy now,” directed Pickle as he loosed the cog on the anchor winch, the wire screamed out and the handle whipped around catching him neatly on the shin!
“@$^&*()**! What kind of contraption is this!” screamed Pickle as rubbing his injured leg he stumbled back to his seat.
You’d think Pickle with his experience with wood splitters and other contraptions would be more wary.
Fishing proceeded with evidence reeled in that the walleye were indeed returning. As an eager student I watched as Pickle and the runt pulled in fish after fish.
“Wow! I got a good one! Get the net!” exclaimed Pickle as his rod bent double. And sure enough a minute later he landed a nice fish.
“Over a foot and a half. Should we keep it? These ones grow really fast. Maybe we should throw it back for the tournament,” he explained as he gently released in back into the river.
Well Pickle, a real sportsman was right they do grow fast when they are that size. By the time we were back to the dock it had reached 22 inches. This morning at coffee it was a tad over 26.