A bad case of fishing fever

The bug has bitten, and I’m getting itchy.

A few days of mild weather soothes all winter weary souls, but they also infect us anglers with crazy cases of fishing fever. The temperature topped 50 in the past week, and I’m showing all the symptoms of a fellow sick and tired of wiling away the time wishing I could get to the water.

The symptoms?

Scanning the Ranger Boats catalog to gaze at the 2009 models as though they are featured in Sports Illustrated’s Swimsuit Issue.

When I see the word “mercury” in print, my first thought isn’t about thermometers. It’s about a big, black outboard hanging off the back of my boat.

My reels were cleaned and oiled months ago, but I go to the basement bench and add another couple drips of lubricant to each of them.

I stroll the aisles at Dick’s Sporting Goods like a carnivore paces the meat counter at Rulli Brothers.

The proprietor of All Pro Fisher in Poland, Dave Untch, is beginning to think I’m a stalker because I stop in even when I have nothing I need to buy.

But I buy anyway, to prepare for the inevitable day when I’ll run short of soft plastics, although that day is likely five years in the future, considering the inventory I’ve accumulated.

I get dreamy when I think about Mosquito, while most people get irritated. They’re wrong. Mosquito isn’t an insect, after all.

My truck automatically slows down when I drive across the bridges on Berlin and Lake Milton. Maybe I need to have the Chevy mechanics look under the hood.

I sandpaper the cork grips on my collection of rods whenever I get an hour of idle time.

Yes, I did this before I stowed them in the basement in November, but they can always use a little more cleaning.

As I drive to and from the office every day, the miles fly while I daydream about flipping flooded willows for spring largemouths. Traffic? What traffic?

I yearn for that day when I can slog through greasy mud, the soft remains of the long winter’s accumulation of snow and rain.

No problem, as I can always clean the muck from the boots after I’ve spent several hours casting jigs for early-season walleyes.

Those TV shows on ESPN2, Fox Sports, the Outdoor Channel and Versus just don’t get the job done any more.

Vicarious fishing thrills are OK in January, but by the end of February, the fishing bug is so severe that only the real thing will cure me.

And finally, I begin planning for the day when I pull the Ranger out of storage and can uncover the glittery red and black fiberglass for another season of action.

Soon enough these symptoms will disappear. That first cast is just a couple of weeks away.

jack@innismaggiore.com