First Southern Baptist Church, Gore

While living in southwest Arkansas, one of my friends called and asked if I wanted to go fishing. This trip totally rede fined the mean ing of the word friend. I said yes to the invite and the next morning I was up at daylight, gathered all the gear and met him at the dock to head out.

The first obstacle we encounter was the lake level is low and where we want to put in, it is too low so we have to go to another location up river. After about an hour of driving we get to the ramp and successfully launch the boat and we’re heading to the fishing hole.

We stop at one place, Horseshoe Lake, and begin fishing in the lily pads using a top water lure with a colored worm and skirt. Usually very effective, and was for Roger, my friend. He lands a 4-4½# bass. I catch a couple of the lily pads. But that is all we caught. So…we move upstream to another inlet and have no luck.

We end up going upriver to the place where we originally wanted to fish. Roger wants to put out some yo-yo’s for some catfish. To do this he needs some bait. He grabs the throw net and goes after some shad. This is the second obstacle because Roger is coming up empty on his netting any bait and I feel the need to help him with some friendly encouragement. “Maybe you’re throwing where the shad aren’t at? Try over there.” Then I decide this is not such a good idea as he may, like a good friend, hand the net to me and let me show him. This would result in him pulling me out of the water and untangling me and the net. He makes a few changes and next thing I know we are picking up shad from the floor of the boat.

We go on a little further into the channel and put out some yo-yo’s then commence in doing some more fishing. We switch to a crank bait fishing about 6-8 feet deep. Roger catches a few more, 2 keepers and I catch nothing. Roger reminds me of the score card: Roger 3, Preacher 0.

Next obstacle, I’ve got to catch some fish. And…all at once I do. I just had to drop my crappie rig into the riv-er and watch it quickly sink to the bottom of the river never to be seen again. After that, I start catching fish, 3 or 4 white bass and a couple of large mouth and Roger can’t even get a bite. Amazing and fun for me. For Roger, well, he finally catches one just a little bigger than his lure. However he did manage to catch a couple of calls from his wife and his right leg.

Morning now gone and we need to head back in, fish quit bighting anyway. We take up the yo-yo’s (no fish), lay the poles on the side of the boat (this comes in to play later) and we’re homeward bound. Then the third obstacle arrives. After conversing about the lures, double hooks, colors and the like, Roger notices the gas gauge. He mentions he did not plan of the trip having to start an hour downstream. “Hope we have enough gas to make it back home!” Me too! I am not pulling a boat in a lake with alligators! So, we decide to go until we run out and play it by ear then.

As we get closer to the landing and decide we will probably make it, Roger notices another boat and we recognize the guy fishing. It’s Bill, one of my deacons. We troll over to him and discuss his venture. After all, if we run out of gas, he can give us a tow back to the dock. He asks how we did. Roger and I shuffle around so he can show the prized catch. I sit on the side of the boat and Roger shows the catch of the day.

I answer a call on my phone and it is then I realize that I am sitting on the poles we laid on the side of the boat. Roger is telling Bill good luck, putting up the catch and looks over at me. I am standing up and the pole is coming with me.

Yep, it seems that I am the biggest catch of the day and in a very indiscreet place making this the final obstacle for the day. I realize the double treble hook is imbedded and when I move it causes pain (indicative of the howling sound I am making).

Roger is doubled over laughing, Bill is trying to figure out what happened and I’m trying to figure out how to get this hook out. I am not going the hospital ER to have this removed. I know way too many people to let this get out. Roger manages to cut the lure loose but is still laughing so hard he is of no help. Bill comes over to our boat and is prepared to do a lureechtomy with his knife and plyers.

It is at that moment that Roger takes out his phone, starts taking pictures while Bill is performing surgery. After a few cuts, snips, clips and what seemed like eternity (and a whole lot of howling), I am free, losing the lure and any dignity I had. Then Roger realizes he has video capability on his phone and said he could have made a movie and a lot of money.

Friends – you have to love them. Jesus reminded us of this too in 1 John 3:16. (Sure glad Roger believed in the catch and release program!)