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| Time to head home | |||||||||||||||
| I finaly reached the landing. There were several fellas fishing. They were just good old boys. They liked my boat. I played with their pup. We talked about bait. | |||||||||||||||
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| I called dad to come and get me. Then I cleared the broken glass from a patch of dried mud on the bank and using my life jacket as a pillow stretched out in the sun to wait. I could hear the wizz of casting and the thud as the float hit the surface of the water. The pup came by to sniff and play. The wind blew across me and the sun set me on slow bake. | |||||||||||||||
| Before I left the state rangers had shown up and were making the good old boys take breath tests. They all passed. There had been empty beer cans in the back of their pick up. On the way out (of the wildlife management area) we passed the rangers again. This time they were talking to people with four-wheelers. No helmets! I couldn't help but notice that it was four o'clock on a January afternoon and everyone was down to short sleeve shirts. I even got a little sun burned. I do enjoy the south. |
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