Muskie Attack (An Up North Adventure) (5 page)

At the Dam

Their vacation over, the Garfield sisters had left Whispering Pines Lodge, but Griffy and Pike nevertheless found themselves at the dam. Uncle Dell said it would be a great place to teach Griffy the ins and outs of fishing. Anything could be caught at the dam. Its gates held back the mighty Chippewa Flowage, and when those gates opened, fish of any freshwater species could swim through and into the river below. You never knew what was going to show up on the end of your hook, Uncle Dell boasted.

Fishing poles bobbed up and down as the group made its way along the sandy path that followed the river and stopped at the rocky edge of the dam. Spinner led the way with Pike and Griffy close behind. Uncle Dell and Pike’s father, Mitch, followed while Pike’s sister, Gil, took up the rear. To avoid the swarming bugs, she had pulled her pink sweatshirt hood tightly around her face and walked looking straight down. Everyone had sprayed themselves head to toe with insect repellant before stepping foot on the path. As Uncle Dell warned, you’d be eaten alive without it.

The group emerged from the woods and began navigating the boulders and rocks that jutted out from the trees and into the water pooled near the dam’s spillway. Gil let out a sudden shriek and dropped her tackle box. Its contents tumbled out.

Mitch turned back. “You all right? What happened?”

“A snake,” she cried pointing to the rocks at her feet, “popped up out of that crack. A green one.” She shivered.

Pike came running over. “Where? Where?” He squatted down and peered into the crack. “Nothing,” he sighed, disappointed. He picked up a stick and started poking in the hole.

“Stop that!” Gil demanded. “You’ll make it mad. Get out of there.” And she gave her brother a shove with her foot.

“Hey, quit!” he yelled back, catching himself with his hand.

“Come on, Pike,” his dad called. “Let it go. We’ve got to get across these rocks.”

Dismayed, Corbett saw that crossing the rocks in question was the only way to get close to the dam’s gatehouse. The group was now facing the overflow basin. The water here came from the spillway and flowed over a wide bed of rocks that connected to the river just below the dam’s chutes. It created an island of sort out of the patch of land where they would be fishing. Uncle Dell told the group that they could fish off the banks of the river all day and never get a bite. But throw their lines into the chutes of the dam and, on a good day, fish would hit every time. Corbett knew he would be crossing those rocks whether he wanted to or not.

“We’re in luck,” Uncle Dell called out. “The gates are closed. Water’s calm. Fishing’s going to be good.”

Gil stepped to the lead and, with a ballerina’s grace, easily crossed the rocks and over the water that bubbled around them. She came to rest on the small island with barely a foot wet. Gil turned back as Spinner bounded through the six-inch-high water, passing up the others as they leaped from one rock to the next. Griffy nervously wobbled on an unstable rock, searching for his next move.

“Don’t stop, Griffy. Keep moving,” Gil instructed. “Jump to that brown one. Then to that spotted one.”

Griffy nodded. He stared down at the rushing water. Uncertain of his chances, he took a deep breath and leaped anyway. To his surprise, he made it. That gave him a needed boost of confidence. But just when he was about to jump to the next rock, something splashed in the water to his left startling him. He tried to steady himself with his arms, but the fishing pole and small cooler he was carrying didn’t help. One foot came off the rock and splashed into the cold water. He couldn’t hold his balance, and the other foot soon splashed in, too. Griffy turned to see Uncle Dell helping Pike up out of the water.

“Not you, too,” Uncle Dell cried, wiping his hands dry on his plaid cotton shirt. “Well, two wet feet are better than a whole body.” Pike was soaked.

“The worms!” Gil yelled from shore. Pike had dropped them in his fall, and now the current carried the plastic container toward the river where it would be lost for sure. Gil bolted down to the river’s edge to head it off. Luckily, the bait container became snagged between two rocks, and she nimbly maneuvered to retrieve it.

“Got ’em,” she called holding the carton high.

Her dad waved back. “Good work, Gil.”

Mitch and Dell had reached the dam, but Pike and Griffy were still in the water. They gave up on the rocks and decided, since they were already wet, to just wade across.

“Be careful, now. Watch your footing,” Mitch told them. “It’s still slippery, and it’s hard enough getting across without carrying someone with a twisted ankle.”

Damp and demoralized, Griffy finally made it safely to shore. His soaked shoes sloshed for the rest of the afternoon.

The group baited their poles and chose their fishing spots. Gil and Griffy sat atop the waist-high concrete wall overlooking the dam’s chutes. Pike wanted to move around, so he stood with Mitch and Uncle Dell near the metal pilings that served as a barrier between the island and the water.

Dell brought in the first fish, a smallmouth bass. Pike quickly followed with a large crappie.

“Get the net! Get the net!” he called excitedly. “I don’t want to lose this one.”

Mitch came to his aid and scooped the fish up out of the water. Pike smiled triumphantly at his catch.

Spinner, appearing out of nowhere, tailed Pike to the fish basket. The dog barked enthusiastically when Pike dropped the flopping fish inside.

“Hey, hold on to that,” Gil called. She had taken her sweatshirt hood down and tied her long, dark brown hair back with a pink bandana. “I’ve got one.” She walked up holding an orange-and yellow-flecked pumpkinseed. The fish gave a sudden jerk before she reached the basket, and it fell to the ground. Gil bent down to retrieve the flip-flopping fish, but Spinner charged, knocking her out of the way. He scooped the fish up in his mouth and ran down the river’s bank with it.

“Hey! Stop! Spinner get back here,” she yelled and chased after the dog.

Not wanting to be left out, Griffy quickly went down to the water’s edge.

“Did you see that?” Pike asked his face wrinkled in disbelief. “I’ve never seen a dog do that.”

“Yep,” Griffy nodded. “Spinner is definitely full of surprises.”

The boys raced to join Gil in pursuit of the wily dog.

Spinner was not giving up the fish. He splashed in and out of the water. He paused briefly in the middle of the rock bed before running full blast between the three kids. He circled the island and came to rest near the fish basket. The three kids ran after him, almost crashing into Dell.

“Whoa, there.” Uncle Dell grabbed Griffy by the shoulder. “You’d better check your pole, young man.”

“What?” Griffy questioned. In all the excitement, he had forgotten that he hadn’t reeled in his fishing pole. It was propped up against the concrete wall; its tip bobbed up and down. “I’ve got a fish!”

He grabbed the pole and started reeling in. The fish on the other end of the line didn’t like that much and fought back vigorously. “It’s a big one. I can hardly reel.” Gritting his teeth, Griffy struggled against the weight of the fish. The tip of his pole dipped dangerously low. He pulled up and reeled faster. It dipped again. He pulled up again.

“What is it? What is it?” Pike asked, rushing with Gil to peer over the wall.

“Keep reeling, but keep it in the water,” Uncle Dell instructed. “You don’t want to break your line.”

Griffy reeled and reeled until he finally brought the fighting fish to the surface. It was huge and ugly with large, gray scales and a lily-white belly. “Ugh! What is it?” Griffy asked.

“You caught a sucker,” Pike answered, “the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”