3 Amigos

 Last Monday I ran into a teacher hired just as I was leaving the principalship. He mentioned that Don and Paul and I were a close knit group of former principals. He called us the "3 Amigos". I think it is a very appropriate label for us.

We have been fishing buddies for over 35 years. We started together when we were all experiencing tremendous stress due to the closing of schools and over crowding in our buildings. In the spring of that year Don's wife, Pat, suggested we get out of town and go fishing.  It was a perfect suggestion and led to the first amazing fishing adventure for us. I wrote about it in "Almost Holiday" https://principalfishing.blogspot.com/2016/01/almost-holiday.html

Since that wonderful weekend on Lake Shelbyville we have fished in multiple lakes in Illinois from Murphysboro to Shabbona and rivers from the Rock to the Apple. We have fished lakes in Wisconsin, Michigan, and Wyoming. We have fished trout streams in the Great Smoky Mountains and  the Driftless Area of Wisconsin,  Iowa, and Illinois. Don mentioned today the three of us have visited the original Bass Pro Shop (Don always says Pro Bass) in Springfield Missouri and the original Cabalas in Sidney Nebraska. Don has also visited the original Orvis shop in Vermont. One of our first adventures was to a Bass Pro Shop in Gurnee, where we were all suckered into buying a magic worm that only catches fisherman. We have cursed so many fishing guides that it is almost embarrassing. Some have even refused to be paid because we didn't catch any fish under their guidance.

We have heart issues, early dementia issues,  and cancer issues, but they don't keep us from fishing. We used to go out alone, but now find safety in numbers. Safety in numbers allow us to continue to share stories of other adventures. The greatest challenge is finding time between doctor appointments to get on a lake. The weather has to also be good as we can no longer challenge high winds or high temperatures. We have gone from three boats to two and soon to one, but we make sure that we go together.

We are no longer very agile or steady. Walking on a floating dock is an adventure and getting in and out of a boat is a risky challenge. Still we yearn for the chance to be together on the water. We help each other out to make sure we don't fall in. .. or I should say usually don't fall in.

The 3 Amigos do not always fish together, but at least two of us go out. We always have fun, and I mean it. We don't always catch fish, or survive unscathed, but the times with these guys are what keeps me coming back from Texas every spring. As I told many people who asked why we go on fishing trips where no fish are caught, "It isn't about the fishing".  I have 4 brothers, but these guys are my brothers in many ways too numerous to describe.

Devil Dock of Death at Dawson

 

4D for short. I have navigated the 4D many times over the last 40 years. Sometimes the Devil gives me a pass. Most times he does not. You might say "Rick, the Devil doesn't have a dock", but to this I firmly disagree. He was there when it was designed;  for who, but the  Devil, would put a dock with two ramps that drop completely out of site from the parking lot.  This drop off immediately turns the boat trailer as it enters the ramp. Who, but the Devil, would consider that the ramps should be divided into two narrow sections and  put a 3 ft wide curve between. Note the curve also cannot be seen from the parking lot. The two sections are just wide enough to to fit a boat trailer in if you are perfectly aligned with the center of the ramp, which the drop off never lets you do without multiple attempts. Who, but the Devil, would design the docks with only one place to hold on to from a boat and not provide any place to tie up said boat. And just for fun the Devil decided to place the ramps and dock so the prevailing winds ALWAYS push any boat away from the dock, usually towards the neighboring ramp. To make sure the wind puts a boat immediately in danger, have the second ramp end in water in which rocks are less than 6 inches deep so boats being pushed that way are grounded.

Looking at the photo you might think those hand rails are good tie up locations, but they are too far from the water to be of any good. To get to the handrails the boat has to bottom out on the ramp. This photo was taken when the lake was so full water was going through the spillway. This is a rare occurrence. Photo was taken after I fell in the lake because of the crosswind.

There are actually real  events that have happened at 4D. 

June 1990 (?) Don and I reach 4D in his canoe. Paul was fishing with his son and it was nearing dark. We wanted to hurry to get clear of the ramp before Pal arrived. As I reached for the one grab pole, the canoe tipped over and dumped Don and me onto the ramp. When we flipped the canoe upright the canoe filled with water. We rescued our gear and tried to bail out the water and get out before Paul arrived. We didn't want him to see I had tipped over the canoe. We heard his motor approaching so moved quickly to get the canoe up the ramp and onto Don's truck. As we pulled out before Paul arrived I said "I'll bet the guy watching us bail out the canoe will tell Paul "You should have  the seen the clowns that were just here bailing out a canoe" "

August 2003 Scott came down from Chicago on a Saturday to help me make my first launch of the boat I purchased that week. Navigating heavy fog we made it Dawson and joined the line of waiting boats. After multiple attempts to get aligned on the disappearing ramps with Scott in the boat, I finally reached the water. After pulling out the trailer to park it, Scott yelled "The boat is sinking" I ran to the line of boats and asked to break back in to load the sinking boat. Fortunately I was given a space and got the boat out before it bottomed out on the ramp. That's when I learned not to take the plug out of the boat, ever. OK, Devil , lesson learned.

June 2025 You can read the whole story at https://principalfishing.blogspot.com/2025/06/well-thats-never-happened-before.html.

Today after multiple attempts to get straight on the ramp, we tried to put Paul's boat in the lake using his new release mechanism to unlock the boat from the trailer. We couldn't get it to release. After 30 minutes going back in and out of the water, we finally realized the trailer winch strap was still attacked to the boat. The Devil messes with one's mind too, just ask Paul.

There have been other  incidents but I can't recall the specifics, except you might ask how I know about the shallow rocks off the one ramp? Experience. How do I know about the prevailing wind? Experience. How do I know about the narrow lanes and the curves on the ramps. Experience from multiple encounters with hitting the curve and the dock. 

The good thing, we survived the trip today in spite  of the bad start. We actually caught some fish and didn't break anything or fall in. 4 D doesn't always win. A good day with a good friend. But I still don't trust 4D.

Well that's never happened before

 Paul and Don and I have had so many screw ups that I compared us to the three stooges. https://principalfishing.blogspot.com/2024/05/the-three-stooges-were-amateurs-at.html

But it really only takes two of us to make one type of screwup. Don fell out of his own boat around 30 years ago. He blamed Paul for rocking the boat while he was trying to pee over the side losing his glasses in the process. (Don said the worst part was explaining to his wife, Pat) . Don bought a floating glasses strap to prevent future losses  and used a plastic urinal until he sold his boat.  Now I carry one  in my boat.

Stay for final paragraph because this was only the beginning of the screwups.

Through all the nearly 40 years of fishing together I had never fallen in....until today. I was with Paul (is there a pattern here?) because Don couldn't come fishing. We had a great day fishing although it was a little too windy to keep the boat steady. The wind led to the disaster. 

Paul was driving the boat to go home and I sat in the front. As we pulled up to the dock I grabbed the pipe on the dock to pull myself up. There was a kid about 8-10 fishing by the ramp. I got one foot on the dock and attempted to set up with the other foot. The wind had other ideas. 

With one foot in the boat and one on the dock I struggled to hang on to the pipe. I was straddling the water as the wind blew the boat back. When my foot slipped off the dock I tried to get it back up and twisted and fell with my back in the water. I heard the kid say to himself or us, "That's a nice bluegill  as he apparently caught a fish. Both of my feet were now in the boat and I laid with my back in the water still holding on to the pipe.  The other hand was on the side of the boat. My jacket pockets and hood filled with water increasing my weight. The kid said " that's a nice crappie" as he apparently caught another. Paul grabbed my boat hand while I held to the dock with the other. He offered to try and pull me up, but I told him "No" because I could see he would only fall in too. The kid caught another fish, this time a bass.

 We decided the only solution was for me to put both feet into the lake and and try to pull along the dock until I could get my feet onto the ramp and walk out...except my life vest had other ideas. I could barely touch the bottom before my life vest woke up.

We always wear a life vest. Mine is inflatable and only inflates when it gets wet. It got soaked and I said to Paul "My life vest works" as it instantly inflated. It really gets buoyant when it does. It was so buoyant that my feet floated to the surface and I could not get them down.

I struggled to pull myself toward the ramp using the support structure under the dock. I had no leverage to overcome the life vest so I walked slowly hand over hand towards the ramp. By this time my feet were under the dock and I couldn't pull them out. Slowly I worked to the ramp and finally reached the location of the hand rail on the dock. I was exhausted and rested awhile before trying to pull on the handrail. I was  too far away so had to pull further along until I caught the upper hand rail. This gave me enough leverage to finally overcome the life vest and stand on the under water part of the ramp

As I stood up and started to walk out of the water, the kid said "How did you do?" meaning "how was fishing". I  said "I fell in the lake" and he said "I saw. How was fishing?". The kid had some strange priorities. 

I walked up to my truck to get the trailer. My truck key fob wouldn't work,  so I had to open it with the key. When you do you have a few seconds to start the engine before the alarm goes off. Fortunately I got it started. I loaded the boat on the trailer,  drove to town, dropped off Paul and headed home.

In this electronic era, when you fall in the lake, it screws up everything. My electronic watch was soaked, and most importantly my cell phone was water logged My cell phone has many important apps including the security system for both houses. My wallet and everything it it was soggy. I needed my drivers license and medical card for the next event.

After getting cleaned up and making it to my scheduled doctor's appointment, Connie and I went to the store to buy rice to dry out my cell phone, and watch. She drove because my truck seat was saturated with lake water from my clothes. As we pulled into the parking lot, granddaughter, Emily, called from Texas to say the security alarm was going off and she couldn't shut it off. The batteries in the key pad were dead. The only way to shut off the alarm is with the keypad or the security app which is only in one place, my soaking wet cell phone which was home waiting for drying rice. Fortunately the security company called the Connie's phone as backup to mine before sending the police to arrest my panicked granddaughter.

Next time I tie up the boat to the pipe before trying to get out!

Why am a Spurs fan? It isn't just because of him!

 

I am 6"4", or I was at one time. He's (Victor Wembanyama) still growing at 7'4", but he's not why I am a loyal San Antonio Spurs fan. It isn't because Hall of Famer of Tim Duncan whose #21 jersey I am wearing. It is the Spurs organization that has made me a loyal follower for what they have done for the past 50 years.

I grew up a loyal Chicago Cubs fan and a pretty loyal Chicago Bears fan. I even rooted for the White Sox In the 50 years of the Spurs existence they have won 5 championships while the Cubs, Sox and Bears teams have each only won one. In the past 20 years the Spurs have had one coach. In that same time the Cubs have had 28 managers and fired the last winner. The Sox have had 19 managers and fired their last winner, and I think the Bears are on #12. Sure the Bulls have six championships but nothing since Michael retired and Phil moved to LA.

Still winning  isn't the only reason for being a Spurs fan. You could say it is mostly because of him or her and because of how they have treated us. 

I was at a game with Granddaughter Rachel because she had perfect attendance at school.  When she was 6 and 7 the Spurs or the Silver Stars(WNBA) gave her a free ticket to a game. Those tickets were up where the oxygen is rare, but I upgraded one so we could get a photo of the floor in the background.  Rachel held the Flat Stanley her cousin Tommy sent her as we tried to get it all in the photo. (Note Flat Stanley is also wearing #21). As we were on the mezzanine an usher asked if we wanted to take the photo from the floor! Yes the Spurs ushers are the kindest people. And that is not all.

At another game we again had nosebleed seats. As we entered the area, the ticket taker asked if we were alone. She said to go with the man wearing a  blazer and he took us down to the lower bowl for upgraded seats. That is how I became a Spurs fan for life!

So the Spurs have a winning tradition which has led to 5 NBA Championships under Coach Gregg Popovich. They haven't made it to the playoffs since 2019 and haven't won it all since 2014.  Yet Pop remains the coach.

The Spurs build teams over time and develop players. Yes, they have drafted three tremendous first round centers (Robinson, Duncan, Wembanyama), but they also developed very low draft picks into Hall of Fame players (Manu Ginobili and Tony Parker) and more undrafted players than I can count.

A Spurs player joins a family. From the first year the Spurs were in San Antonio, the players were taken to local gyms, food banks, libraries, and schools, and learned they were part of the community. The Spurs Give Back is the most appropriately named charity. They continue to do this whenever the team is in town. Coach Pop leads young men and lets them know they are more than athletes. That is why whenever a former player on another team comes to San Antonio the player makes a point to come and see and usually hug Pop. The Spurs honor the former players with a tribute video of their highlights before the first game back. All of the Hall of Fame players and many others still make San Antonio their home.

Scott recognized how much I love the Spurs. In 2022, in the middle of the pandemic, Scott bought me courtside tickets behind the Spurs bench.

Scott and I started attending many games last season. This year I bought season tickets for half of the home games. When he can't go I take Emily or Rachel or one of the fans from our Silver Sneakers class, where nearly everyone wears a  Spurs shirts to exercise.

Go Spurs Go! is the team slogan. Hurry back Coach Pop we miss your wisdom and humor, but thank you for making professional basketball into something to be admired for more than great athletes and winning records. You have taught your coaches well and we may be on our way to the playoffs again! 

 Hey Chicago, maybe someone will forward this to Ricketts, Reinsdorf, and McCaskey!

The three stooges were amateurs at screw-ups

 The three stooges were amateurs at screw-ups when compared to us.

Don and Paul and I have been fishing together for years. There have been very rare occasions when nothing bad happened, but that has not been the usual. Yesterday was another regular trip for us, the first  of the year.

Connie asked why we going when rain was forecast. I said we were only fishing in the morning and rain wasn't forecast until afternoon. I didn't take a raincoat and neither did Paul. When we stopped at Don's he had on a raincoat, probably because his wife, Pat, advised him on that. Paul borrowed a raincoat and I dug my emergency raincoat out of my boat tackle bag.

We have always tied the boat to the dock when launching. This is to hold the boat while we get in. Lately instead of just tying up, I have asked Paul to back the boat off the trailer before tying to the dock. Don and Paul always handle the boat tie-up while I return the trailer to the parking lot. Yesterday they decided to do something different.

Since it was the first trip of the year, the fuel lines were not connected to the motors. This proved to be a disaster as Paul and Don's new thing was to drive the boat to the dock and then attach the the ropes to the dock...except Paul couldn't figure how to attach the fuel line to the motor. Granted the 9.9 hp motor has a different connector than the 25Hp motor, and it certainly confused him. I didn't realize what was happening, but as I walked down the ramp toward the dock I saw this.

With a steady west wind Paul was a long way out with no fuel line attached. I tried to yell across the lake to tell him how to connect it, but he could barely hear me. As he drifted away Don told me they had decided not to tie up like they usually did. I kept yelling "it's the silver connection above the tiller"

Finally Paul figured out the connection and got the motor started and came in to pick up Don and me. This was, of course, my fault for not connecting the fuel line before going out. Somehow in the confusion the connection to the fuel tank was also reversed so we were also leaking gasoline. We got that fixed and finally started to fish.

The lake was really full of algae and we didn't have much luck. Eventually we headed for a cove and Paul caught a crappie. A while later I caught a bass, and Don caught a really nice saugeye.  

Don wears a nice Gilley hat which is an expensive fishing hat like the one Paul wears. We moved out of the cove into the wind and Don swore and said "My hat blew off". He also said "it should float", so I turned the boat around to try and fish it out. It was soaked. Note that Don is wearing my ugly emergency hat as a replacement.

Then it started to rain. It was only 10:00 am but obviously the forecast was wrong, again. We headed to the dock. I gave Don my keys so he could back the trailer in. As Paul and I waited we heard the usual car alarm and we both said "Don found the truck" because Don always pushes the wrong button.

As we waited for the trailer, I connected the 25 HP motor and eventually got it started. We had plenty of time as Don usually makes gets the trailer sideways a couple of time. I did snap a photo as he finally lined up the trailer. I shot a video of his attempts but it's too long for this feed.

So do you think we are the latest version of the three stooges? Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck!

Devils River in Texas with Scott

One of the pleasures of getting older is watching and participating as Scott takes the lead on adventures outdoors. This past fall, winter and spring, Scott has invited me to join him in fishing and kayaking adventures. Although my legs are not as strong as they used to be, I always accept the invitation even when I anticipate hiking will be difficult. I simply don't want to miss a chance to be with him, just the two of us. He always checks on his old man to make sure I am ok. I will share some of the kayak trips in later episodes. He has recorded several videos on YouTube under Scott's Lale-land Adventures. 

This trip to Devil's River was our last this spring. Scott researched the area and had me pack for hiking and fishing and cool weather. We started heading west of San Antonio on US 90 which parallels the US-Mexico border across Texas. The trip was supposed to take 3 1/2 hours. Our first stop was in Castroville for coffee and doughnuts. We had a great breakfast from a Magnolia Bakery in a converted gas station. As we continued west we made another pit stop at the Walmart in Uvalde. I snapped this picture of the names of children and teachers murdered at school less than a year ago.

After a long wait behind traffic accident we finally reached the border town  Del Rio Texas and turned north for 40 miles. We then exited the "hard road" for an hour drive down gravel roads to the park containing access to the Devil's River. The river flows from the aquifers in the Texas hill country and flows through the hill country to the Rio Grande.

From the park headquarters, it's another five miles down a gravel road to the parking lot which is another mile hike to the river. Fortunately Scott had us well prepared for this.

As we hiked the cliffs of blackened limestone came into view. The blackened limestone was highlighted by the still older limestone visible where recent rockslides have occurred.

The hike was long, but the cool wind kept us from overheating in this arid climate. The dry stream beds looked to filled with man made pavers, but they are the natural effect of rapidly flowing water, now gone. 

Finally we could see the river .

We found a couple of places to fish and caught a few small bass. The river was really clear but there were not many access locations. Maybe waders are needed there. We fished several spots and hiked along he river until the path became unpassable. We stopped for some selfies before heading back up the trail.

 

It was a four hour drive back to San Antonio an it was nightfall by the time we returned home. It was a great day together and I hope we can continue with more adventures in the fall.

 

Yakking with my son

 I am so old that trying new things seems pointless. I can barely do many things that used to be simple and enjoyable. When my son, Scott, initially proposed that I join him kayaking, I refused. I had several bad experiences on canoes when I was much younger. I figured getting closer to the water in a kayak was just asking to get drenched. He had purchased kayaks for both of his daughters and himself.

Scott persisted over the last two years. He also frequently took his kayak out fishing and was enjoying lots of success. The rivers around San Antonio are not large. They are more like creeks and are perfect for a small craft like a kayak. San Antonio doesn't get much wind either so the kayak shallow draft isn't much of a problem. 

Scott's kayak is sit-on not sit-in. His daughters have sit-in kayaks which require you to get wet. This last year Scott bought a bigger sit-on kayak because he got tired of "getting his butt wet". He did more exploring for places to fish that were not heavily frequented. He had really good results from his kayak exploring.

When we arrived in Texas, he again shared his desire for me to go fishing with him in a kayak. After hearing again about his fishing success, I relented and agreed to try. The first trip was on Columbus Day to New Braunfels on the Guadalupe River. This river is used by many for float trips, but this Monday holiday found it not busy. This was a good place for an old rookie to get his "yakkin" in.

Scott  put me in his new bigger kayak. I paddled around to get the feel. It wasn't too hard, but there was virtually no current or wind. We also avoided the rapids. We tried fishing but had no luck. It was successful in that I didn't dump the kayak.

This past Sunday, Scott took me on an adventure. He said he wanted to catch fish this time so we were heading to his most recent successful exploration. He had ordered me some water shoes to wear while kayaking. The "river" we were heading to was the Nueces River which was just outside of Uvalde Texas. Yes, that Uvalde.

We did go through part of the town, but it was a brief drive and didn't include any schools or the downtown area.  There were plenty of signs along the way, "Pray for Uvalde" and "Uvalde Strong".

Scott explained the Nueces River had at one time been the border between Texas and Mexico. This was before Texas was admitted to the union. He also said this river had several rapids we would need to navigate. We would start by going upstream. It also had a current. All of this would be a new experience for his slow moving and unstable father.

We put in and the first thing I noticed was the current was making it more  difficult to steer straight. It wasn't a strong current, just more than I had experienced on my  earlier trip.  We reached the first shallow water or "rapids" in a few hundred yards. I wasn't able to get through and was unable to pull the kayak up the rapids. Scott kindly told me to walk around and he would  pull both kayaks up stream. The water shoes I was swearing were no support on the rocks and I was barely able to walk. I struggled just to walk but I made it without falling. He parked my kayak and went back for his.

We paddled up to the next rapids, and again I had to get out and rely on Scott to drag up the kayaks. We reached the fishing area. To my surprise Scott said we were going to bank fish.

I threw my Texas rigged rubber lizard and had a fish on the first cast. It was a large mouth bass.

 The next cast was even better with a channel cat. Unfortunately it released its bowels as I took it off the hook.

Fishing got more interesting as I hooked two Guadalupe bass in succession. The second one was about 3 lbs. Guadalupe bass are a beautiful hybrid with broken lateral line and an spotted bellies. I have only seen them in Texas.

Not to be outdone by his father, my guide got his own Guadalupe.

We caught several smaller fish and were able to catch on multiple lures. I tired from standing and we eventually had worked the area enough that the fish stopped biting. The sun came out and the temperature rose so we decided to paddle home. Scott thought we might be able to float the rapids going downstream. He told me to follow him, but there was not enough water flow to get us over the  rocks. He rescued me again and took the kayaks through while I walked around. 

It was an enjoyable experience and I cannot thank Scott enough. Even if we don't catch fish, "yakkin" with Scott is a blast. I just might have to try this again.