I Knew I'd Find an Email in My Inbox Today...

And I was right. The time stamp on it was 11:02.

That's right, folks, rather than take a day off, Ron headed to the water this morning. He launched at 0630, with the gauge reading 2.33 feet of water. At the time he sent the email, the level had dropped to 1.2, and at 11:45, the reading was 0.59 and still falling.

Remember this line from the old Ted Mack Original Amateur Hour: "And where she stops, nobody knows"? That, my friends, describes the situation with the North Landing to a T. This much I do know: The falling water won't stop until that wind shifts somewhere other than northeast.

"I figured since everyone was still sleeping, and I couldn't clean up the yard, may as well chase bowfin at upper North Landing," said Ron. His reasoning was, "It's wind-protected, sort of; it'll have an outflowing current, check; and there'll be a perfect mud line, check."

The flaw in this plan was that the bowfin didn't get the message he was coming. He didn't find a single one.

Ron told me the conditions in the skinny creek really weren't that bad, but "after witnessing the second tree fall, I decided it was time to skedaddle," he admitted. He said the water was crystal clear above the fork, with surprisingly very little surface debris. "A few powerful gusts nearly flipped me over on the trip north, which was straight into the maelstrom, while the trip south was like a sleigh ride, what with the following seas and wind," he explained. "I only had to steer."

The morning's catch was limited to only two dinks (as pictured above) on the Whopper Plopper and some taps on a Fluke. In Ron's own words, "Not really worth the trip."

Fellow kayaker, Charlie, had a bit different view of the trip, but that's all I'll say here.