Thread: Grandpamac Discovers a Bog

Greetings All,
Went for a short walk to the Kuripapango Lakes today, looking for a few spots an old fudd could have a little hunt now that the temperature has dropped a little. The lakes were formed some time by with an earthquake slip and were stocked with eels to the larger one and native fish to the other in pre European times. The eels failed as the larger lake was land locked and was stocked with brown trout, by air, in the 1950's. These do not get much bigger than a well fed sardine. It's still a nice place to go for a wander so off I went.
The lake level varies a great deal but is low at the moment so I thought I would wander around the shore, poking my nose into the nooks and crannies on the way around. All went well until I got to the north end where a small stream flows into the lake, The ground had been a little soft but I picked my way across to the stream edge. There was a little bit of gravel in the stream bed so I stepped onto it thinking it was solid. Big mistake. My foot sunk into the bed up to my knee. Needing to take a step to steady myself, well past my knee this time. Bugger. If I wasn't careful I could find myself covered with dark and not at all fragrant mud from head to toe. I put my rifle on the bank to keep it getting any more mud than it already had on it and managed to extricate myself. Somehow the other side of the lake didn't seem all that appealing so I headed back whence I came. As I sogged along I thought I heard a soft voice from behind my left shoulder. Whether it was Charley Jane's Murphy or my rifle I don't know. I thought I may have heard the words Old Fart but perhaps I imagined the whole thing.
Grandpamac.