A funny thing happened on the way to the fishing hole over the weekend.

Oh, I caught a few fish - nothing to write home about - but I also found a major flaw in one of my most important pieces of gear.

I began the day fishing for bass at Nelson Lake, and after losing a Rattlin' Rap, decided to head off for the other side of the lake.

About that time, a group of young men pulled up and threw in their lines. First cast with a slip bobber rig, bass. Second cast, bass. You get the idea.

So I headed out to a favorite spot on the other side of the lake and strapped on the old waders - old being the key word here - thinking there would be a fish or two lurking in the cattails.

There were, but what I didn't count on was the fact that those "old waders" were a bit more, shall we say, ventilated than I remember. I haven't used them in a few years because, face it, there hasn't been enough water around in recent years to mess with them during duck season.

So after tying on a shallow-running-shad-rap, Iwaded past the reeds and first noticed a trickle once I got in past my knees.

Well, the long and short of it was after about a half-hour or so, I was soaked from the thighs down.

Fortunately, it's Nelson and the water is pretty warm, but it does make for an interesting experience when your boots are full. Not that I'm a superstitious guy - well, maybe a little - but I thought it didn't bode well for the day.

First, losing one of my favorite lures, then this. I get that way about some of my lures.

I used to have this old no. 11 floater, black and silver, that I caught a pile of walleyes on at the Tailrace. One of the tips on the back treble hook had long since broken off after a battle with a pike, but it kept producing long afterward. Somewhere along the way, I began saying a short gratitude every time I pulled on the waders, saying a quick "thank you" for being able to get out and fish.

It seemed more appropriate this past weekend as we remembered those who have sacrificed so much so we can experience all our nation has to offer.

After a couple small bass and my limit of wet drawers, I figured I had given enough and pulled up.

Maybe the one place I'd rather fish from shore than any other is the Tailrace. When I first moved up to the area, about a half-hour drive away, I could go down to the rocks and walleyes nearly every night.

Over the years, the fish have gotten farther and fewer between, but I can still manage to catch one here and there.

There have been times I've laid the rod down, poured a cup of coffee and watched the world go by. Bald eagles, pelicans, mink, beaver, deer, turkeys - a smorgasbord of wildlife. The wildlife viewing opportunities are as much a fixture at the Tailrace as the dam itself.

Then there is Nick.

He's down there most nights when I am, and those nights when I'm not. He gets his share of fish, but even if he doesn't, it's not a bad way to spend a few hours. And if you think of it when you run into him, ask him about his favorite lure and the beaver.

It's a good story.

(Reach reporter Brian Gehring 250-8254 or brian.gehring@;bismarcktribune.com.)