REDNECK FISHING TRIP, MRMARION [read any book .TXT] 📗

REDNECK FISHING TRIP

My brother David employs two mechanics nicknamed Rambo Robbie and Billy the Kid, in the CO-OP Saw shop in Magee, Mississippi. Neither of these two rednecks have ever ventured out of the state of Mississippi or wandered out of Simpson County for that matter. But this fact does not deter either of them from planning an adventure, especially if it involves fishing.
Early on a Tuesday morning last November, prior to Thanksgiving, Rambo came to work all excited about a program he'd seen on the History Channel. It involved fishing in sub freezing weather on a frozen lake in Wisconsin. Having viewed the entire program, Rambo considered himself well educated on the subject of ice fishing.
He proceeded to inform Billy about how folks would cut a hole in the ice and catch fish. The size of those monster fish boggled the mind. Billy listened to the tirade put on by Rambo and became more and more enthralled as Rambo talked. He could envision a cooler full of fish large enough to use his new filet knife on. The more they discussed it, the more determined they became to try their luck at this new kind of fishing.
It wasn’t long before they hatched a scheme to drive to Lake Waddicon in Wisconsin. Since work was slow at the shop, being the holidays and all, and they both had more vacation days built up than they could ever use, they cleared a week’s vacation each with their manager. Then they got down to some serious doggone planning.
“It’s got to be cold up there on the ice. How are we going to keep warm?” asked Billy as he planned the road route they would drive up on.
“”Like I told you, they got these little huts they place out there on the ice. You sit in them and fish. That’s how you stay warm,” advised Rambo. Continuing, he said, “I'll be holding hands with Jim Beam, so he'll help keep me warm, don’t you think?”
“Yep, like no other can!” answered Billy. “It's beginning to sound better all the time!”
After some bickering, they finally got the vehicle packed up with what they thought they would need and hit the road. Eighteen hours later, they crossed the Wisconsin state line. Excitement stirred the air and their anticipation hit an all time high. When they saw the sign pointing to Lake Waddicon, they let out a whoop followed by a rebel yell.
Rambo obtained a hotel room in the Lake Waddicon Inn while Billy researched the fishing hut situation. Sure enough, there were huts for rent right there on the lake. This was going to be a piece of cake. The man would even tow the hut out onto the ice for them. They decided to begin their great adventure first thing the next day.
The next morning found the pair out on the lake. The man towed their hut out to a place he said was the best one on the lake for fishing. After he left, Rambo and Kid sat in the hut looking at each other and wondering how they were going to fish. There was no hole in the ice that formed the floor. Both were reluctant to ask the other the obvious question.
“Just how are we going to fish in here?” asked Billy. “There ain’t no hole!”
“I guess that auger hanging on the wall is for cutting a hole in the ice. Let’s give it a try, what do you say?” replied Rambo.
Grabbing the auger, Rambo, after a lot of hard work and grunting, had a two inch hole drilled in the ice. Billy just sat there watching him and freezing his buns off.
“We got to find a way to keep warm. I'm colder than a well digger’s butt in Idaho,” Billy said with his lips quivering.
“Here, try this here auger for a while. You'll warm up,” answered Rambo handing the tool to Billy.
While Billy was drilling a hole, Rambo baited up a hook and went to fishing. It wasn’t long before he had what felt like a monster pulling on his line. After working with his fish for awhile, it finally dawned on Rambo. How was he going to get that big fish up through that small hole? He ended up cutting the line in desperation.
Billy watched the entire scenario with sadistic glee on his face. “I guess we have to just catch those fish that'll fit through the hole we cut, don’t you think?” he asked as Rambo sat on his stool in frustration.
“We are going to get something to keep us warm, that much you can count on,” Rambo observed. “Wonder how those other folks cut holes in the ice? Maybe we should ask.”
Frustration and cold drove them back to the rental shack. Inquiring about how holes were cut in the ice, and how the people stayed warm, the rental shack guy told them, “Many of the fellows use a chain saw or a gas powered auger. They usually cut a foot or foot and a half hole then set the hut directly over the hole. Just about everybody has battery powered overalls to keep them warm. How did the fishing go today?”
“Not like we expected,” was all the pair would say.
After warming up, Rambo suggested a trip to the local general store. They'd never make it through another day without the necessary supplies.
Both of them decided a pair of electric jump suits was the first priority. Chain saws were cheaper than a gas powered auger, so they bought one figuring they could always use it when they returned to civilization. A final stop by the liquor store and the boys were all set for fishing the next day. They were going to stay warm and they were going to have a hole big enough to haul those large fish out of. Yep, these two rednecks had the whole thing figured down to a gnats butt!
Early the next morning found Rambo and Billy outfitted in their electric suits and cutting a large hole in the ice. After completing the hole, they shoved the shed over it. All the time they were nipping from the Jim Beam bottles telling each other that the whiskey was keeping them warm and not the battery powered suits. They were ready to do some serious fishing.
Four hours later, neither of them had experienced even a nibble. But they didn’t care. Jim Beam and the electric suits kept them warm, in a carefree mood and not really giving a darn whether they caught any fish or not. Both were so drunk they couldn’t find their knees with written directions, a flashlight and a Seeing Eye dog. Billy fell asleep sitting inside the hut with a fishing rod in his hand. Rambo decided he needed some air so he could sober up.
Walking outside, Rambo stumbled around for awhile but the added cold did nothing to sober him up. In fact, it made him sleepy. In a stupor, he assumed a prone position on the ice about twenty feet from their hut and fell into a deep sleep.
An hour later a storm rolled in and started blowing everything not tied down askew on the lake, among them the boy’s hut. Inside Billy was still asleep sitting on a cushion and leaning against the wall of the hut. The wind moved Billy, the hut and everything else along the slick ice like they were on ice skates. The movement didn’t faze Billy. He remained asleep, content and dreaming of good things and places far away.
Rambo, on the other hand did not have much sail area lying on the ice. He remained in one place. This was because his electric suit had melted the ice under him and it and his hair had refrozen in the ice, locking him securely in place.
When Rambo and Billy did not return and the storm hit its peak, the rental guy notified Emergency Services. The hut, still upright, sat snugly against the shoreline. Billy snored soundly inside, oblivious to the storm outside. Had the storm came in from the opposite direction, Billy would easily have ended up in the ice hole. After they woke him up, Billy spent the next hour trying to figure out exactly what happened. And he still could not account for Rambo’s whereabouts.
A half hour after they found Billy, the emergency crew located Rambo. He was still asleep securely locked in the ice. All Rambo knew for certain was some guy in an orange suit was cutting his hair while he was lying on the ice not able to move. Almost bald, Rambo could at last move his head. No matter how hard he tried, he could not sit up. Something held him down.
“We got to get you out of this suit. It is frozen in the ice,” one of the emergency crew told Rambo.
“How did that happen? Where is Billy? Where is our hut? What is going on?” screamed Rambo somewhat sober now that he rested some.
Cutting up Rambo’s new electric suit, the men were able to free him. While they were doing so, they told Rambo about Billy, the hut and the storm, as well as who called an emergency in their behalf. Rambo had a tough time trying to sort out all the details but was at last able to hold a general idea about what happened.
Twenty-four hours later, and sleeping most of the time, the two ice fishermen mutually agreed the hour arrived for them to return to Mississippi. Packing as fast as they could, they made a beeline for Magee beating their eighteen hour driving record by one hour and fifteen minutes on the return trip.
The next day at work they faced the question of, ‘where is all the fish the two of you caught up in Yankee land?’ They agreed between the two of them no one would ever know about this trip from their lips. They both thought they could not stand up to the ribbing.
So, all Billy would say was, “The ones we caught were too big to transport back in our truck, so we threw them back in the lake.”
“Yeah, you should have seen the water level in the lake drop when we pulled one of them out. Why, there was a three foot gap between the ice and the top of the water when we got him out,” added Rambo as he started to the back to work on a mower.
“Hey Robbie, what happened to all your hair?” yelled David
Robbie stopped and turned around. Looking at David, he explained, “I had to get it all cut off so my snow hat would fit.”
“How come Billy still got all his hair then?” asked Henry, the shop manager.
“Oh, he didn’t have a snow hat!” replied Robbie as he continued toward the shop in back of the store.