Slack line fishing: Great excuse to enjoy quiet time on lake
Spring had finally arrived and along with it came warm, sunny days that were perfect for after-school slack line fishing. Most of my afternoons were spent at my favorite fishing spot—a flat boathouse deck at Limekiln Lake.
On one particular day in 1976 my dog Mutt and I had found enough good-sized worms under an old wooden boat to fill my worm container.
Mutt was my lookout as I pulled up and rolled over rotting wood planks that I am sure made for a sturdy hull some 30 years prior.
Burrowed underneath in the darkness was a world of beetles, bugs, centipedes and worms that until now lived untouched.
The smell of the rotting wood and thick black earth were signs that this worm hunt would lead to a great slack line fishing experience.
I gathered up a canvas folding stool, my fish pole and an old military rucksack crammed with enough lures, hooks, bobbers and split shot for a small army of boys to fish for a week.
It was only a ten-minute walk from my house to my coveted fishing spot but it always seemed to take Mutt and me more than a half hour to make the trip.
Mutt begged me to toss sticks along the way. And I stopped at every culvert to take a peek inside and shout echoed hellos, and skip stones at the lakeshore along the trail.
Soon the squatty boathouse was in sight and our fishing could begin. Mutt knew the trip very well.
When we reached the open deck she ran ahead and sniffed it all over before bolting for the surrounding woods to do her own thing.
She knew I was going to be set up there for a while.
I rigged my pole with bobber, hook and worm—anxious to get that first long distance cast out into the dark lapping waters of the lake.
I called this type of fishing slack line because it would not take very long for my bobber to drift towards shore.
The line would make a long coil-like appearance as it drifted out the top eyelit of my pole.
More often than not it became the most slack when I put the pole down to see what was going on around me.
I would look for cool pebbles along the edge of the deck.
Or I would lay down on the dock and peer into the water to watch the smaller fish dart along the sandy bottom of the lake.
If the sun was just right I would lay on the dock and close my eyes to view the wild colors and shapes that appeared on the backs of my eyelids.
My slack line fishing was not so much about catching fish, though on occasion I had caught many.
It was more about getting out by myself to think and digest all that had happened that day.
Slack line fishing allowed me the freedom to enjoy the lake in my own way.
