Our annual tradition of Smeltapolooza almost didn’t go off this year. Unusually warm weather in January was keeping the ice from getting a hold on the rivers and lakes, and the MOF member’s schedules were all askew for February this year. Fortunately, with 48 hrs to spare before our only weekend window, the word from the Smelt camps was “we have ice”. The MOF’s Smeltapolooza outing was on.
This year we had additional company with Monster Troy’s brother Todd and his friend Emily joining us. Todd had been on this adventure once before but Emily? well, we were certain she had no idea what she was about to be exposed to.
As usual, we didn’t catch any smelt and so remain quite consistant year over year. This year’s menu planning fell through the cracks and so ultimately everyone just brought stuff that didn’t need much prep or cooking on location. Bonus points to Troy for scoring us a big load of McRib sandwiches that we wrapped in foil and re-heated on the wood stove. Other items on the menu included a monster fiery chili by Todd, a bucket of fried chicken, cold cuts and lobster meat for sandwiches, slim jims, assorted nuts and potato chips, cheesy doodles, and a can of SPAM that somehow ended up falling unopened into the whole chili.
Todd’s friend Emily was a trooper and, aside from almost throwing up at the sight of the blood worms we use for bait and from being in a very confined space with five smelly guys, she managed to go toe-toe out there. She was a little annoyed that despite years of doing this, her guides were not producing a single smelt. She really wanted to see one, and had been made aware of the tradition that the first smelt caught must have its head bit off by the catcher. Well, someone from another shack down the way found out and brought up one of the only two smelts they had produced so she could see one. Don’t let the picture fool you, the head was off and it was already cleaned when given to Emily.
Oh, and with regards to the title of this post and the part about “Where’s My Phone?!” Well, as we were all sitting around the shack, there was suddenly a significant splash in one of the race holes that startled us all. For a second there was speculation that a big fish might have tried to jump up out of the hole and into the camp. Then conspiracy theories and accusations started flying that one of us has secretly tossed something in the water to get the rest all excited. Finally, someone uttered the words “cell phone?”
There was only one person sitting immediately beside the area of the race hole from where the splash had emanated. Troy, in his pimpin Santa hat, shoved his hand back into the right pocket of his fleece jacket and then hung his head low. We all knew. Not a word needed to be said. It was a good 15-20 minutes before we all caught our breath from laughing so hard. And we had immediately started calling Troy’s phone and leaving voicemails for him to report the underwater conditions down there, and was he seeing any smelts down there………… So for the remainder of Smeltapolooza 2013, from time to time someone would call out “Where’s My Phone?!” and we’d howl all over again.
There has been talk about retiring Smeltapolooza after these years. Been about eight or nine of them. Talk about going south for a few days fishing in February instead. Somewhere warm, with words like tarpon and bone-fish being tossed around. Could just be the winter doldrums causing a little delirium but, hey, you never know. Stay tuned……
Cheers,
MOF