Catfishing

Well, as I absorb more and more of the culture of the Natives, I decided to go catfishing. I know, catfish live in the Great Peninsulas, too, but with such a diverse piscine population, I always went for the sunfish, bass, trout, etc. Now, here in Little Egypt, far from the Great Lakes, oceans, etc., I have to rely on rivers, man-made lakes, and reservoirs. I chose the latter, heading a few miles northwest to where the city water comes from: Harrisburg New City Reservoir. At first, I thought it was odd to fish in the water supply, but then I remembered fishing Lake St. Clair (i.e. Detroit's main water supply). So, I picked up some worms at the local ROC One Stop, headed up IL-34, through the levee, onto the Reservoir.

Just a few folks out, and no tasties on the road. You see, Little Egypt's man-made lakes tend to have a road built on an artificial land bar that cuts the lake in two, with a short bridge somewhere in the land bar to allow recreational navigation between the two halves. At the Reservoir (also called Harrisburg Lake, depending on your source), most of the shore line is private property, including a sizable Boy Scout camp. The only places for the public to fish are on the Lakervoir in a boat (there's a short boat ramp from the land bar), or from land bar road. So, I parked and tried my luck. I guess even the herons weren't having luck, either, though, since I didn't see them pull any snacks out. After I'd gone through 5 or 6 worms, I decided to head home.

Fishing isn't like most other activities, though. Even when you haven't succeeded, or really accomplished anything tangible, it's still a good use of time. Plenty of quiet and peace, closeness to nature, etc. Time to think, organize my thoughts, but sometimes I think a little too much. Women often drift into my mind when I think too much, especially with all of the relationship -> fishing analogies. Oh well, time to reel in and find a new spot.