Summer in the midwest: a user's guide

May:  Summer begins in May when the last exams are graded and final grades have been submitted.  This summer, I prepared for three in anticipation of Jonny's and Zakur's visit.

With foam all things are possible

I did a little point hunting before the corn got high.  May was rainy, so fishing was difficult.

Scouted for carp, largely to no avail.  The few I saw did not play nice.

Carp proved challenging.

Explored a bit in the new kayak on those rare occasions when the river was navigable.

Navigable water: rare for this spring

Got the boy out a couple times.

Attended a minor league game on a beautiful summer evening.

Sport

She let the boys eat ballpark junk food, a minor miracle and they knew it.

June:  Like May, June was wet.  Real wet.  Second wettest June on record.

To put it in perspective: I like to fish this water at about 350 CFS.  May and June are dead to me.

All plans to float for smallmouth had to be nixed.  Instead, when EJ and Z arrived we headed to the lake country for a bit of camping and, hopefully, some quality largemouth bass fishing.

EJ and Z set up camp.  I've lived in apartments smaller than this tent.

Rain.  The boats were there in case we needed to escape.

Photographing a frog early in the trip; enthusiasm still high.

Still raining.  EJ pores over a vintage Gray's Sporting Journal, circa 1978 (which is also when he bought those socks.)

Morning breaks moderately clear.  EJ fries bagels in leftover bacon grease.  Pure genius.

Our evening ritual: three casts and you're out.

Shoving off the first morning; manageable drizzle.

Small, but an honest-to-God fish, dammit.

Skies clear; fishing becomes tough.

We load for another lake.

It begins to rain again.

The weather on the lakes was unpredictable.  The fishing was, unfortunately, quite predictable.  We managed a few small fish and decided we'd had enough.

We leave the lakes, defeated.

We stopped at a small stream that had dropped to wadable levels, but it was still off-color and largely non-cooperative.

Z works the fast stuff.

EJ works the slow.

Only fish from the small stream: a straggling white bass.  Jonny adds a new fish to his life list.

Jonny and Z left to chase eastern trout, and I started to explore some other local waters.

I found a beautiful little stream, near to home and with enough willing fish that I can probably say it saved my mind.

Did a bit more point hunting with a friend.

One field gave up six cups of these black raspberries.  This is summer in Indiana.

July:  Rivers were still moody, but I found time to get some fish on waters familiar and new.

First gar: a strange and interesting fish.

Aftermath of a whitefly (Ephoron species) hatch.  I wish I'd been there yesterday.

Ben took me to one of his locals, just a trickle but full of small willing smallmouth, and a few bigger ones as it turns out…

We knew it was big at this point.

My turn.

August:  By now, the tomatoes in the garden were pure perfection and for reasons unknown, a pond that I had written off started producing largemouth again.

Ben and I floated a long stretch of new river, reputed to be one of the best smallmouth rivers in the state.  It was a challenging river to fish, but worth it in the end.

The home river continues to be fickle, but gives in now and then.

Tricos, I think.

And the pond…well, she and I both do our best to squeeze out the last of summer…