
Deb and her father took me fishing with them this past weekend. It was the first time I've grabbed a pole (insert joke here) since I was a wee, pre-teen lad, and I'd never truly been on a fishing excursion. My past experience included throwing a line off a dock and...uh...that's about it.
This picture was taken on our first night, after a long day on the water. On this Friday, we slept in a bit, ate a big breakfast, purchased some minnows and a license, and put the boat out in Birch Lake. We motored for roughly seven seconds before the engine sput...sput...sputtered. Deb's dad pumped the gas line, shook the can, cleaned out the lines, checked the gas filter, cleaned out valves, cursed, and tried just about every trick he knew. No dice.
So, we headed to the Trading Post in Remer, MN for some advice from the local shopkeep/engineer. We systematically eliminated a number of issues and settled on buying a new hose from the gas tank to the engine.
Back to Birch Lake and sput...sput...sputter went the engine after about 14 seconds. Further on-lake inspection uncovered a problem with the tube/filter in the gas tank. Deb's dad stuck various objects into the tank in an effort to capture the missing piece, and after about 30 minutes, he pincered the piece and put all the parts back in place. And...we're off! At about 4:00, I figure.
Birch Lake proved to be windy, cold, and a bust for fishing - which stinks because getting to the lake involves navigating a shallow canal filled with logs and muck and weeds for about 20 minutes. We eventually switched over to another lake and nabbed 6 or 7 crappies for the Saturday night feast.