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We usually have a very predictable, sort of ‘nothing’ kind of weekend, and sometimes is gets kind of depressing going back into the workweek with nothing memorable to think back on. Let me just say that this past weekend was interesting and memorable and even occasionally fun!
I started thinking earlier in the week that it might be fun to go camping (we have a tent now after all); maybe even somewhere we could take the bikes, if the roads were good enough. UltraDad dutifully hauled the tent and camp chairs home, but he had a better idea tied upside down in the bed of his pickup: the 14 ft aluminum boat that had once belonged to his dad. On Friday while I was at work, he licensed it and procured anchor, life jackets and battery for his 10 HP electric motor.
Ruby Lake, or more accurately, Ruby Marshes, was, he heard, the place to go. People were catching and releasing 40-50 bass and easily filling their limit of 10 bass over 10” long. And the lake was only a short 40 minute drive from his home in Ruby Valley.
On Saturday, about 4 PM, we arrived at the Ruby Lake Visitor Center. Following the confusing direction arrow, we ended up on a row of park ranger homes. The nice park ranger told us how to find the actual visitor center and also gave us lots of good information and advice. The popular 1st boat launch area, just over the hill, was the best one; the water was deeper and you didn’t have to go too far to find some good open water and good fishing. The 2nd dock, less widely used, was about 8 miles further on, and you had to boat for a long stretch on shallow, swampy water to get anywhere.
We pulled into the parking area at the 1st launch, and gaped in astonishment at the long row of vehicles and boat trailers on one side, and the long row of trailered boats waiting to be launched on the other side. As we were eating our lunch and considering our options, a young, bespeckled, skinny-legged Ranger approached us. We had seen him earlier near the actual visitor’s center, where he had somehow talked UDad into agreeing to fill out a survey of his personal recreational habits.  Ranger boy was still carrying his clipboard, and I had watched him working the crowd, looking for more survey candidates. “Doesn’t look like you are having much luck getting launched,” he sagely observed. “ You might want to give the other boat launch a try.” I was leery; it was after all, our maiden voyage and I had visions of spending the night lost in a swampy maze, but in the end it seemed our best option if we actually wanted to get on the water in the next 2 hours. And, as UDad had informed the ranger, we did have a GPS.

Crowded 1st Launch Area

Launching at the 2nd Boat Dock

After the metropolitan aura of the 1st launch, coming up on the all-but-deserted 2nd launch was a bit surreal. There was one other vehicle there, and we were alone as we (mostly not me) hauled, righted and shoved the boat into the water and tied it to the dock. Now for the hard part; as I lugged out tackle box, cooler, anchor, life vests, etc., UltraDad got out the motor and battery. Just then we saw a boat approaching the dock: the other vehicle was now accounted for. Hurriedly we moved our boat to the front of the little pier so the other boat could come in. In the craft were ‘Dad’ and ‘Jerry’; we never formally introduced ourselves, though in the next hour or so, we heard much of talkative ‘Dad’s’ life story. It seems they had burned their gas motor up (from too many weeds?) and had come in to get a different one. UltraDad sat on the dock in an attitude of apparent rapt attention as ‘Dad’ informed us that he was 85, his wife was 83 and his son was 65. They used to have a little dog, but it died, and someone had recently given his wife a fake dog that breathed when you turned it on and she treated it like a real dog. He had been married in New Orleans, and his son was born 9 months and 1 day after his wedding; everyone was counting the days, but nowadays noone even gave it a second thought.
I sat on the dock with the dogs and tried to drop a few hints: “We don’t want to hold you up.” “John, do you want me to put this stuff in the boat?” and in my head “John, could you work while you talk?” When he finally got to it, it took a good half hour to get the motor and battery all hooked up. I threw in an old blanket for Murphy and Rowdy, and they gratefully curled up in it for most of the voyage. Over UDad’s protestations, I insisted on bringing the cooler. If we did spend the night on the lake, at least we wouldn’t starve!

Dad and Jerry

Sea Dogs

Jerry and Dad had earlier cut a nice swath through the swampy reeds, and we tried to follow it. Still we ended up rowing a while before we found an area deep enough to give the propeller a try. If you watched for them, once in a while you caught sight on a long pole, which were the channel markers. Dad and Jerry had warned us that we should take flashlights. In the dusk, we would need them to spot the reflector tape on the channel markers to find our way back. It soon became apparent that we wouldn’t get out far enough to fish and still make it back before dark, so after an hour or so, we turned around and successfully found our way back to the dock. The scenery was amazing, especially the way the clouds reflected in the water. The GPS had been of little help as neither of us knew how to use it.

Captain John

First Mate Kathy

Getting dark

To my surprise, Dad and Jerry were still there, and Dad came forward to tie our boat to the dock and lend a hand to help me alight. They had decided against going out again that night, but were having trouble trailering their boat. It was crooked on the trailer, but strong UltraDad soon helped put it aright, and as we drove home we made plans to come back early the next morning and give the 1st launch a try.
As we drove back early the next morning, UDad informed me that he had slept little the night before. “I kept thinking of ways to shorten our launch time. I don’t want to keep people waiting.” He is more considerate that way than I am; I figure everyone takes their turn, and I am as entitled to make someone wait as the next guy. As it turned out, his fears were ungrounded. A lot of boats had been anchored near the pier, but there were very few people around as we got underway, and noone was kept waiting on our account.

Boats anchored near the pier

Underway

Murphy

Again the dogs huddled on their blanket in the bottom of the boat and I was glad I had worn my jacket; the morning was chilly. The water was much deeper here, and I enjoyed the ride as John powered the nearly silent electric boat motor through the reedy channels. We were passed numerous times by other boats; their loud gas motors seemed to violate the morning tranquility. This was nice, I thought as I snapped photos of the passing scenery: again the amazing reflection of clouds, mountains and water reeds; duck families paddling by; John at the tiller.

“You know,” John remarked after a while, “I probably should have charged the battery last night, but I was just too tired.”
“WHAT??!!” I thought, but what I said was, “You have to charge the battery in a boat? It doesn’t recharge itself like it does in a car?” “No, of course not,” my husband replied in the tone of voice he would have used had I suggested that the moon, indeed, was made of green cheese. “There is no alternator.”
We kept getting passed, so it seemed logical that the best fishing was still further up ahead. I tried to put on my game face, but as we sped out past yet another marker pole, my enthusiasm was tempered by thoughts of a long row back to the dock. And John had made me leave the cooler behind. And I was starting to have to pee.

Heading out

Notice the marker pole near the duck

Reed Reflection

“Hey, I have been a little worried since you mentioned the battery,” I said with a little laugh. “Maybe we shouldn’t go so far out.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine,” said my husband, examining the object in question. “Oh, maybe not. It says ‘recharge needed.” And then it died.
And so we rowed, with fishing along the way. First, as usual, UDad had to unsnarl the line around my fishing reel. He ended up cutting it at last and starting over, as I urged him to forget about it and go ahead and fish. But it was fun to string on a shiny lure and cast it out over the water in hopes of a bite. We often had to back up and bring the boat alongside some reeds that had snagged our silly lures, and even more often hauled in a line dripping with mossy water plants. In the end, I brought in one fish and UDad hauled in three, all well under the 10” criteria for keeping, so back in the lake they went.

John’s first fish

Kathy’s usual catch

A real fish!

An amazing sky

When I finally got a turn, I found the rowing was kind of fun, though I wasn’t very skilled at aiming the boat in the directions I wished to go. I rowed an artistic zig zag pattern with the occasional running aground in the ubiquitous reeds.
As we approached the dock, there was Park Ranger, still clutching his clipboard. As we related our experiences he said, “You would be surprised how often that happens. I hear it all the time.”
And so an eventful weekend, and I have finally finished a post. I have 2 half begun and I promise soon you will be able to read about my Lavender Selling weekend in McCall and my beautiful daughter Heather’s wedding to handsome Heath. Well, semi-promise.

UltraMom