What can I say, I'm a sucker for 80's pop song titles.
I left work a few minutes early this afternoon so I could go fishing with my younger son.
The big sissy balied on me (something about being tired after school), so I made a solo expedition to fish the South Hoosich - - more specifically, the flood control chute behind the Polanka Pavilion on Mill Street in Adams - - starting around 5 PM.
It was mostly sunny, and surprisingly warm (about 65 degrees).
When I arrived, I was surprised - - OK, shocked - - to see an otter swimming around in the flood control chute below me.
I've never seen an otter in the wild before - - and, indeed, didn't think they even lived around here.
The Hoosic is a pretty small stream as rivers go, and I wouldn't have expected it to be big enough to support an otter.
Yet the darn thing was swimming around like it didn't have a care in the world, and even grinned (or maybe it was grimaced) up at me.
Whatever the facial expression, the otter clearly wasn't worried about me.
Far from it. I was mainly concerned that I didn't want to hook an otter - - I had a traumatic enough (albeit exhiliarating) experience when a mink set off the flag on one of my tip ups when I was icefishing a few winters ago.
I cast well over where the otter was swimming around, toward the center of the stream, with a large sinker, and let my line sit while I picked some sorrel in the community garden for a new soup recipe that I'm eager to try.
When I came back to check my rod after about 15 minutes, I had a fish on, and reeled in a decent 13" rainbow, which I was able to release unharmed. A bit of an afterthought after my otter sighting, but pretty good nevertheless.
I fished for another 15 minutes without any more hits, so I called it a day, and returned home with my booty (i.e., the sorrel that I'd picked along with a remaining beefsteak tomato that I was able to scrounge).