Southern Belle Hell
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A Southern WarmingChapter 29 free porn video
"I'll take a look," I said, as I opened the door of the van. I discovered about six inches of snow around the back tire, but it didn't look that bad.
"Do you have any sand?" I asked my brother.
"No I don't. I used it up a week ago. I don't have any idea where a person could even find sand around here," he replied.
We tried shoveling the snow out from around the tires and pushing the vehicle, but it wouldn't budge. My brother spotted some other guys on the lake and suggested approaching them on the snowmobile and asking if they could help. We unloaded one of the snowmobiles and he headed off to make contact.
Meanwhile, I tried my best to make a clear path in the snow. It didn't take long before my brother returned.
"They are busy helping a pickup that is stuck in the slush. One of the guys has a four wheeler and they mentioned that they might come over if they get the truck free. It could be a while," he added.
"Let's see if we can unhitch the trailer and then try to move the van with the snowmobile," I suggested.
I had no idea if it would work but figured it was worth a try.
We unhooked the trailer and moved it out of the way. Then my brother hopped on the snowmobile and hooked it up to the tow hitch of the van. I tried to drive the van out of our little trap while he pulled it with his machine. It wouldn't budge.
"Hook the trailer up to the snowmobile and take it back to shore," I said. "Then all we need to deal with is the van."
My brother did as I suggested and discovered it was rather easy to pull the trailer back to land. When he returned, we continued to attempt to free the van. We tried putting carpets under the tires and tried rocking the vehicle. None of the normal methods we had used in the past seemed to work. My brother rode over to check with the truck guys again, but soon came back to inform me that one of the cables on their four wheeler had broken. That meant that they would be out of commission for a while.
"We can do this," my brother said. "I know we can get out of this predicament."
I suggested jacking up one side and putting a section of a metal bar, from the trailer, under the tire.
"If we can just get it moving a few feet, we should be ok," I commented.
I wedged the jack under the van and proceeded to begin raising the vehicle. The jack was the scissor type, so it took a few minutes to crank it up. Once the tire was off the ice, we slid the bar under and lowered the vehicle back onto the heavy piece of metal.
"Give it a try," I said, as I moved out of the way.
For a second, it looked like the van would move, but then it just shot the piece of metal out and remained in place. Everything seemed to point to the fact that the vehicle should have gotten free, but it just stayed there. Just then, a stranger rode up on a four wheeler.
"You guys having some problems? I've been watching you from the warmth of my cabin. Figured I'd better get up off my bum and see if I could help."
"Here, hook this tow strap to your vehicle and I'll see if I can get you moving again."
I shot a look of relief to my brother. He gave me the same look back.
We tied the strap to the hitch of the van and then I gave the signal. The guy started pulling with his machine and my brother tried to drive the van.
It didn't budge an inch.
"Let's try the bar under the tire once more," I suggested. "At least we will have the tire above that slight depression."
It was probably less than an inch deep ... but it was, by now, very polished ice.
I jacked up the van and placed the metal under the tire. The van was lowered again and everyone went to their places. This time the van began to move. The tires were spinning on both vehicles, and the van was sliding into the deeper snow, but it was moving. At least it was out of the hole.
"Stop!" I yelled.
"We've got to get you back onto the path," our new friend commented.
We proceeded to dig away the snow from around the tires and shoveled a path toward the ice road. Then the guy angled his vehicle so that it would pull the van in the right direction.
This time it worked. The van was pulled for about thirty feet before it stopped. It was centered on the path and it looked like the only problem would be the task of backing all the way to shore. Turning around was out of the question.
I tried to give our new friend some money, but he refused.
"I'm glad to be of help," he said. "You guys go catch some fish."
"What a great guy," I said to my brother, as he motored off. "It's nice to know there are still men around who are willing to help others."
I remembered a story one of my old bosses had relayed to me during a lunch meeting one day. It had taken place in the fall. He had been sitting in his warm cabin looking out over the large lake his place was located on. He told me it was one of those days when you wanted to stay inside. The air was saturated with a damp mist and a cold wind was blowing from the north. It was a miserable day to be out in the elements.
Looking across the lake, he spotted a boat that appeared to be in trouble. After grabbing his binoculars, he saw that the guy was having problems with his motor. My boss's main boat was out of the water, but he did still have his small fishing boat tied up to the dock.
Despite the fact that he didn't really want to go out, he got up, threw on his rain gear, and headed out to rescue the guy. After throwing him a rope and towing him back to shore, he asked the man if he would like to come in and warm up. The guy agreed and my friend made him some coffee while they talked.
It eventually came out that the guy was the county tax assessor. My boss had cringed at the time. He knew his cabin was very nice and he figured that his taxes would probably go up the next year. He began to have some doubts about the wisdom of asking the guy into his cabin.
Much to his surprise, when he received his tax evaluation the next year, his found that his taxes had instead gone down. He told me that getting out of his comfortable chair had been worth it after all.
We drove the van back to shore and parked it in the parking lot. My brother unloaded the other snowmobile and I proceeded to get our fishing gear ready.
Once everything was packed on the sled, we headed out across the lake. We slowed down when we came near a high ridge that had been made by a snowplow while plowing the ice road. I watched as our sled went up and over the pile of snow. Fortunately, everything stayed in the sled and we proceeded over to a group of ice houses where we wanted to fish.
For a short time, we continued to follow the road. We eventually veered off again onto the unplowed surface. It was definitely less bumpy and we had to keep our speed up to prevent bogging down into the deeper snow.
Once we had located what we thought would be a good fishing spot, we unloaded our gear and proceeded to drill several holes. The previous year, the ice had been about eighteen inches thick. As I drilled, the auger continued to go down.
The next thing I knew, the auger was within inches of the handle and I still hadn't broken through. That meant the ice was almost thirty-four inches thick. Then the auger got stuck.
"Now what do we do," I said.
"We might have a problem," my brother replied. "I have heard of guys removing the auger from the motor and just leaving them stuck in the ice. It's not like we can just dig a hole in the ground to get it out."
"I suppose we could start chipping around the hole with something," he added.
Warm weather fishing was beginning to look much more appealing.
"Well, I'm not going to do that," I replied.
I moved the throttle and pushed down on the handles. After wiggling it back and forth, the blade started spinning and finally cut through the remaining ice. I had to back up as water gushed up through the hole. My brother cleared out the ice and snow while I headed over to make the next hole.
I set up several tip-ups for passing Northern Pike, while my brother set up his portable fish house. Once we were ready, I opted to sit outside in the wide open while my brother sat in his cozy little place. I planned on heading inside later if the weather became too cold.
As the sun set, I was treated to a brilliant sky of purples and various shades of reds and blues. The sun became a fiery ball, before it began to sink behind the hills in the distance. Darkness gradually covered the lake and the lights from cozy homes on the shore started to become visible.
There I sat, on a bucket, in spot where the waves had gently rocked me only a few months before. The landscape around me had completely changed and I could have been on almost any of the larger lakes in the winter. Snow and ice were everywhere. I seemed so insignificant on that wide open expanse.
I checked my Vexilar, (a radar that indicates whether there are any fish in the vicinity), and thought I saw some activity near the bottom. Occasionally, I would see a blimp move past that was about six feet down. I tried my best to attract the fish to my line, but nothing seemed interested in biting.
I looked around and spotted a cabin on a bluff in the distance. Behind me was the field where the cows would graze in the summer. Up in the sky, I spotted Orion the Hunter and other stars that were beginning to twinkle in the darkness of the night.
"This is really amazing," I said to myself. "I would not even know this was going on if I had been sitting in my cozy chair at home." Despite all the complications, I was indeed a man experiencing what it was like to be out in the elements.
"You should be out here instead of sitting inside your shelter," I yelled to my brother.
"I'm just fine," he replied. "I'm beginning to see some activity on the screen ... dang; I just lost a nice one."
Just then I noticed one of the flags on a tip-up had gone up. I rushed over to the hole to see that the line was moving. For a moment it stopped, and then it began to move again. I gave it a little more time before I set the hook.
Right away I knew I had a nice one. As I reeled in the line, I would occasionally see something big move past the hole. I wondered how I would ever get its head to point upward through the opening at the bottom of the ice. Losing a fish near the lower edge is often a problem.
Josephina
- 15.01.2021
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