Near Baptism River, MN – August 15, 2012

A lot of things go through your head when you’ve got a decapitated fish in one hand, a bloody knife soaked in entrails in the other, a rod swinging around the deck with the fish’s head still hooked, your paddle across your lap, waves flooding over the boat, rocks rushing toward you, and a thunderstorm flashing along the horizon.

Can I hold a paddle and a fish in one hand? Which is more important if I can’t? Weren’t those rocks far away a moment ago? Is that fish head looking at me? Try not to stab yourself with that knife, please. Eew, what is that oozing? That’s gross. This looks so much cleaner in a tuna packet. Wow, those rocks are close. That wasn’t lightning, was it? How the hell am I going to cook this thing? Cook it? How am I going to get to shore? Probably should have thought this through a bit better. Where’d my paddle go? I can’t believe I caught a fish! This is awesome! There’s the paddle. So about those rocks?

But the best thought, the one that rang out over all the others, was that Neal, Brian, and Bog Man would laugh about this over beers one night. It may have taken me two months to do it, but I finally caught that fish they promised me.

That’s Unga Munga.