Sometimes in life, if we are fortunate, certain people come along who make us better by multiplying our own strengths and filling our gaps with their own talents. These friends have a way of adding elements to our life that enrich the experience of living. Mike Weakland is one of those uncommon individuals who adds humor, stability and a deliberate cadence to my often serious and fast paced controlled crash of a life. I turned 53 on Tuesday, and this 3 day sojourn to Trout Lodge was just what we both needed after putting the trip off for several years. The excitement began when the Stealthcraft came unbuttoned from the hitch at the intersection of 31st and Haskel, a stout deadlift to re-engage the lift jack and a set of long nosed pliers as a makeshift hitch pin and we were back in business. Where the hitch pin got off to is still a mystery. Aside from a divot in the bumper and a tight back, no harm done.
We arrived in Branson before lunch time and were on the first tee taking in a sunny 65 degree December afternoon, we played at a relaxed pace and alternated good shots with some we weren’t too proud of, shared some great laughs and finished with a pair of birdies on 18 to cap off an unexpected gem of a day.
Mike and I on the 15th Tee at Pointe Royale
Mikes rainbow trout at Flat Rock Hole.
The close proximity of the 19th Hole Grill to our lodgings is part of the charm of Trout Lodge, every man should have a reliable diner where familiar surroundings and a utilitarian menu can be had. The bacon and eggs, crispy hash browns and mid weight diner coffee fortified us for an afternoon on the river. We loaded the boat with cooler, Lebanon bologna sandwiches that Mike artfully fabricated the night before, rods and warm layers of clothes. On a Tuesday in December you will not be fighting a crowd on the upper reaches of Tanney, full throttle most of the way and we were soon rigging up our gear in a heavy 5000 Cfs flow. Our stop to see Chuck at the fly shop paid off when Mike hooked his first ever fly rod trout, #16 brown scud anchored neatly in the corner of its mouth. We mostly drifted the Flat Rock hole on a dropping flow, 5 rainbows to the boat on brown scuds. Mike boated 2 nice fish, had full command of the tackle and is now a fly fisherman of the first order. One of the great joys in my life is sharing and handing down the gift my grandpa gave me as a young man, to see the excitement in the eyes of others as a trout dances on the end of the line.
We made our way home on Wednesday, a trip we will not soon forget.
