I know some of you think it's silly, but I like fishing, so each year around this time I start getting prepared, a ritual that involves cleaning and oiling reels, then re-stringing with fresh line (yes, fishing line can become un-fresh)... cleaning out and re-arranging/re-stocking the tackle box.
This includes buying and admiring shiny new lures and reading the boxes they come in, much like some of you read your cereal boxes at breakfast. Did you know Rapala brand lures ('the original Finnish minnow') are assembled in Estonia? Well you do now! Cereal boxes are boring.
I've had a pile of new lures sitting on one of the couches for days, enjoying them each time I walk by, but today was the day to add them to the tackle box, for the weather is good and IT IS MARCH after all!
Amongst those new ones were two or three of last years' that I had cut off the poles when I was re-stringing, and well, one of those, a 'crankbait' (my favorite type) had become hooked into the fabric.
My girlfriend took note yesterday of the hooked crankbait situation and informed me. Yes, I already knew but am slow sometimes... to resolve such situations.
She fancies herself rather a McGyver type so I challenged her to get it free to which she informed me "you're gonna need some needlenose pliers" which I couldn't find because I am unorganized, hence part of the reason that it remained attached there for several days.
Well today I found those damned pliers!
-- Grabbed the treble hook using the proper tool held in my right hand (two of the three were embedded) and gave a good yank.
They popped out much easier than I expected, yes, the couch was free... or the lure was free. OK, both were free!
But not me.
The rear treble pierced into the palm of my left hand, and it hurt. One of those panic moments when you realize you've done something dumb that causes pain signals in the brain.
Brain to tr ig: "YOU DUMB ASS. Ouch! Now what you going to do genius? You do realize that hooks have what are known as barbs, right, and the only way they can be removed from human flesh is to push the barb on through, then cut the hook and pull the remains of it out, barb first."
To brain: "YES, yes I do. Shut up!"
So I tried doing the opposite. Backing it out. NO WAY NO HOW! But then, took what seemed the appropriate action in such an asinine situation- snapped a picture.
Great blogging opportunity!!
Another pic... gotta include doggie. Right.
Then, totally focused, I did what brain had told me... pulled the hook through to the other side.
THAT took, I'm guessing twenty minutes. I pushed and pulled, like really hard, trying to get it through, my hand skin distended until turning arctic white.
Not only was that painful, to say the least... I was afraid that if I push-pulled TOO hard that the whole thing would just rip out, involving MUCH MORE pain, and probably a hideous scar, but finally the point of the dull hook appeared.
Only ten or so more minutes later, much pressure applied, the barb itself finally popped out.
At that point I was having tunnel-vision.
Then, just another five or ten to get those same needlenosed pliers in a position where I could get the wire cutting portion onto the hook to cut it, without chopping my own flesh.
You may think I'm exaggerating.
No... not. Good timing though, as I was fresh out of blog topics.