Jumping puddles

Last weekend I thought it would be a good idea to go for a hike with the dogs.  Of course, this wasn't really about the hike or the dogs.  It was a thinly veiled excuse to go scouting a new place to fish.  Of course.  My research told me there are exactly 8 million lakes and rivers in Oregon to fish, but I slowly came to a consensus on a certain pair of lakes that were quite a long ways up a forest road and a couple miles into the woods.  Why these? Mainly because the fishing wasn't touted as being great (limited competition for my mediocre skills), and because it was far enough off the beaten path that I didn't expect many other people to be out there, and I could get some much needed solitude after two months of nearly nonstop travels, work, and socializing; all things I enjoy in moderation.

So I took the trip up to Pansy and Dickie lakes, and no I didn't choose them for the names.  Although the goofiness of those names may have made me slightly more likely to choose them.  What did I find?  Well, I have this huge Oregon fisheries book that pretty much covers any lake or river or pond, and it said that both lakes are very shallow but get stocked in odd years.  It's not an odd year, and very shallow was very accurate.  If you were to wade either lake you probably wouldn't get past knee deep, and if you did you certainly couldn't go past your belly button without sitting down, which you could probably get away with.  That's not so good for fish populations and I didn't see a single fish.

Of course it wasn't time wasted.  I now know not to go there again and I got in an enjoyable hike.

The following Monday I found a glimmer of humor when I went to the airport and got on a tiny turbo prop plane to go down to the bay area.  

Puddle jumping in both instances.