This Solar powered fisherman’s tackle box looks like the kind of thing that could be really useful at the fly-in lakes we go to in northern Quebec except for one tiny little problem: Every time we go fishing, it rains every day of our trip.
Every. Single. Time.
We’ve gotten off the plane at our outpost cabin and had the pilot warn us about the dangers of forest fire so be careful with our butts and campfires, etc. He kicks the ground and we witness a cloud of dust rising into the air. We nod our heads in agreement but stifle a smirk and a smile as he boards his plane to return to the main lodge. We know what’s about to happen. No sooner does the sound of the prop engine Beaver fade over the hills than the rain clouds emerge from hiding. The drought is over. (This has not occurred just once but multiple times. But do we get any thanks from our Canadian friends? Nooo.)
For the next six days we will have rain for at least four of them. Sometimes it will rain everywhere, sometimes only over our (my) boat. I’ve hunkered down against a typhoon with wind, torrential rain and even hail, only to look across the lake and see my buddy and his kids sitting in the sunshine less than a kilometer away.
I’m thinking of starting a second career as a rainmaker. For enough cash to cover the purchase of a boat, I’d pack up my gear and go to any area suffering from a bad case of dryness. As soon as I launch and get on the water—POOF—instant rain. I figure if Georgia had called me last summer, they wouldn’t e in such bad shape right now. And I know they have some pretty good bass lakes down there I could have helped refill.
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