A four by two by two trough, two bags of charcoal, one fishing boat, three fishermen, and eighteen degree weather. Me and a couple of friends decided to go fishing in the river. We even had a good idea to keep warm in the ice cold weather. We placed a water trough in the boat and filled it half way with some charcoal, lit it and set on our way with fishing. Fishing licenses in our pockets and poles and tackle in tow. 

We roared up and down that river in the freezing weather, perfectly warm and content. One of my buds theorized that the fish enjoyed the warmth that our boat had and that is why we caught so many of them. Catfish and trout, bluegill and crappies, there was seemingly no end to the fish that were caught. 

About four hours into our trip we noticed another little boat creeping past us. The two men in it looked to be as official as all heck. They wore hats and jackets that read wildlife management. As we passed them by, ever so slowly, we thought that we were in the clear. 

The roar of their engine probably scared all the fish that had been warm next to our little boat. The management roared back toward us with a speed that I thought to be the most impressive for such a little dingy boat. Their boat was coming at us so fast that they didn’t have time to stop and they rammed into us and nearly tipped over our boat with the hot coals. When our boats clashed together, one of the officers had jumped into our boat and nearly jumped into the fire himself.

They demanded to see our fishing licenses, which they had every right to do. Then they demanded to know where all the fish that we caught were. We asked if they knew about catch and release. They said that they did and that they had been watching us for about two hours and that we had caught a whole slew of fish. We said that we had released every single one of them except for one that had gotten its gills hooked instead of its lips.

Satisfied with our claim or merely lack of evidence, the officers left us in peace.

I caught some catfish on the way back to the dock, and pulling out my grill top, I killed and cleaned the catfish as quick as anything. I treated myself and my friends to some grilled catfish over hot coals. If those officers had stuck around a bit longer, they could have had some too.