Fish Like A Girl-WARNING fishing videos not suitable for some audiences!!!

It was around 9:00 pm on a rural road in southern North Dakota when I was asked, "You want to give up already???" after I had suggested that we turn back and just get a motel for the night upon discovering that the road to the campground we had chosen was covered in water. The Dakotas have received a high amount of rain fall this summer (unbeknownst to us who are currently melting in the 100 degree heat) so many of the rivers and reservoirs are flooded. The windshield was completely covered in dead bugs and it was very dark out, not quite dark enough though for me to miss the hundreds of hungry blood sucking mosquitoes that began to land on the windows of the Truckster as if to welcome us to this campground hell.

We agreed to disagree and I drove angrily into the blackness. Not without taking note that there are very few campgrounds in these parts because these people already live in the middle of frenching nowhere, why would they need to go camping?!?!

We found refuge at a small campground ran by the local Lyons Club in Carington, ND. They had power and water and, shocker, we were the only ones there. We left the next morning and headed directly to Devils Lake, or as we like to call it, Debils. I had already scoped out the board of tourism's website and it looked like there was loads to do there while we waited for Uncle Bob to get off work that evening and drive up. I was thrilled to learn that they had a municipal pool complete with water slide and intended on doing some swimming. Major props should be given to the web designer and ad execs who created the website as they certainly have the world fooled into thinking that the city of Devils Lake is awesome, when in fact, it is not. 

The main street was filled with empty store fronts and "for rent" signs. We had a hard time deciding where to eat as there were two whole choices. We ate a dismal lunch served to us by us even more dismal girl who did her best to feign interest in "how was everything?" The pool was closed for the season and there was nothing in town except a McDonalds packed to the gills with young Native American girls and their tweenage baby daddies. It was depressing.
In Debils we stopped at an RV dealer to purchase a replacement light for the van. Inside we found the most amazing bleached, permed mullet on a round woman with makeup that would make Tammy Faye look fresh faced. After buying the light, Kai asked the woman where one might get lunch in this town. "What kind of lunch?" she asked. "Oh just a sandwich place, you know?" "Like a sub sandwich?" she asked as her face lit up. We were hopeful and both replied with an adamant "yes". She then proceeded to give us incredibly painfully long directions back down the highway..."Well there's a Walmart you know, and just past the Walmart you'll turn left and then you'll turn right and then you'll see the Subway." It took everything in us to not burst into laughter then and there, but we managed to make it back to the Truckster. We had asked the woman for a good lunch place and after 8 minutes of detailed directions she had instructed us to a Subway chain. Classic.

Finally Bob arrived and we met up at the campground where hundreds of of people around the lake have hard-wired their fifth-wheel campers. We had plumbing and Direct TV and we had a ton of booze thanks to Jerry. I asked Bob if the town was hit hard by the recession hence the depressed downtown area, he said, "Nope, it's just Devils Lake."

We spent the next few days fishing for all that the lake had to offer, walleye, pike, and white bass. By night we partied with the locals Cokey, Swanny, Weiner, and The Indian. Clearly, no one here went by their real names. When we asked Uncle Bob what his name was, he replied, "Jerry's bitch." Jerry showed us the way of getting Rum Dumb- which was drinking several glasses full of Sailor Jerrys, Rondiaz coconut rum, and a wee splash of coke. Kai and Jerry proceeded to get Rum Dumb, while I maintained an even keel with red beers. We were given some valuable life lessons on marriage and life and Kai and Jerry both managed to stay alive despite the alcohol poisoning. We opted to not go for a drunken golf cart ride which was likely the safer choice and instead built a campfire and howled at the moon. It was becoming increasingly clear that the man who invented rum was trying to kill Jerry, and the man who invented Rum Dumb's was trying to kill Kai.

At the campfire we met neighbor Holly who shared her anxiety over a friend who was down a kidney and as her remaining kidney was not well she would likely be in need of a transplant. She was upset and nervous that if she donated her kidney to her friend that she wouldn't be able to provide a kidney to her children or grandchildren, heaven forbid they need one in the future. She was, perhaps, the nicest woman we had ever met. I couldn't help but laugh when she told me, "Well no, I don't know if I'm a match for any of them..." I suggested that she not worry about donating an organ until she knew that a) someone actually needed one, b) she was a match, and c) there was familial history of kidney disease in her family (which there wasn't). We had more to drink and moved on to lighter topics, leaving potential organ donation to another day.

After watching a fishing program back at the camper, I decided to give hosting my own show a try. It certainly could use some professional editing, and I clearly have a profanity problem, but other than that the boys here agree that I could probably get my own show on the Outdoor channel. 

 

                                          

Sunday we headed east to Grand Forks, ND where we got into some catfish on the Red River. I don't know why they call it the Red because it looked pretty brown to me... This day tried my patience to no end, I had already read my People and In Touch magazines from front to back- twice, and had only received a few  promising nibbles with no end result. I could hardly stand it. I whined, I complained, I even asked another boat if we could switch guides, they said no.

After firing my guide, Jason, twice, nearly dying of heat exhaustion, starvation, dehydration and sunburn I finally hooked into a catfish. I was so exhausted after 6 hours (felt like 18) on the river in the sun and with low blood sugar, I could barely reel the monster into the boat. Finally bruised and battered I got the fish into the vessel (with the help of my newly re-hired guide, Jason) and learned how to pick the beast up.  I tossed her back into the mighty Brown River and sat with trembling hands as my adrenaline slowed its pulse through my body. I came, I saw, I fished. My mother would be proud. 

Credits:

Videographer: Uncle Bob
Guide: Uncle Bob
Outfitter: Uncle Bob
Boat Captain: Uncle Bob
Worm Splitter: Uncle Bob

Up next, Chicago deep dish pizzas and the home of Ferris Bueller.