Then there are those hookups where the "big" one doesn't get away.
|scooping a mouse-eating brown|
Several weeks ago now I was driving down a dirt two-track road in the dark after a late season deer hunt. A storm was coming. Although the weather was calm and eerily still right then - and golden sunlight had just finished bathing the sagebrush-covered landscape in setting sun like a summer post card - it was December and snow would soon be falling. That night in fact.
Mice were everywhere it seemed. Scurrying and bustling in preparation. Shooting across the tire ruts in the headlights. They appeared to know that this could be the end - the last chance to get around from bush to bush without tunnels under the snow until spring thaw. The fact that snow wasn't already piled over them was just good fortune on their part.
Of course I instantly thought of trout sucking them down - imagining a big whoosh of white foam when one swam out into the stream...... well, ran across the jeep trail. They were all standard field mice. I'd spotted about half a dozen of them in the last mile when suddenly I saw a whopper. It was a kangaroo rat. Twice the size of the other mice I was seeing, with a super long tail. A very defined tuft was at the end. It was in no hurry to escape the headlights but evaded me when I got out to take a picture. My first thought was "Man! I need to fish mice with longer tails!" And then I began to imagine the monster brown that would eat this giant. I chuckled because I figured it probably didn't matter - it'd get smacked by a 14-incher. Which reminded me of a hot July night that'd I'd been fooled.