This past weekend, while I was down on the farm working, I decided to go out one night and get a few frogs. We've got a 5 acre lake on the farm, with a small log cabin built right at the waters edge. When I go down there, it's usually a day trip to work, helping my mother out in whatever she needs done. This past weekend though I spent a couple of nights in the cabin.
A few weeks earlier I had gone around the lake getting the majority of the frogs off of it then. My brother came in from out of town a few weeks after that for some things and got a few more then. Friday night when I was down there, I could hear 5-6 bellowing around the lake, so I thought that I would try to get them Saturday night. I had a dual purpose in getting the frogs. I love good fresh frog legs, and I needed to take step by step pictures of the cleaning process to make into a tutorial to be posted on a web site I am a regular on (http://www.gutpilestyle.com/). The web master for the site is a sadistic slave driver, who doesn't let up until I get him more tutorials on cleaning different types of critters. LOL!
So anyway, Saturday night rolled around and I, with gig, bag, and flashlight in hand, head around the lake to collect the frogs. About half way around the lake, as I'm up to my waist in water, in a big weed bed trying to find the frog that I had heard in there bellowing. As I'm looking, I notice a piece of latice work floating in the water. "Well crap! The wind must have gotten ahold of this and tore it off above the swing." I grab the latice work and commence to dragging it out of the water. I found out something I hadn't realized before. Latice work, while rather light when dry, weights quite a bit when it's been soaking in water for at least a week! As I'm dragging the latice work out, I hear the frog that I was after jump in the water. CRAP! OK, so much for that frog. There was another one pretty close to that one, so I start looking for that one. I look and look, but can't find the frog through all of the weeds. As I'm looking for this one, I hear one bellow back about 50 yards in stuff that I had already covered. Since I can't find this one, I go back and try to find that one. Of course, no more bellowing from this one, so I can't pinpoint where he was. I look around a little more, but to no avail, so I head back in the direction I had been going to start with.
By now, I'm wet up to my waist, have had to drag very water-logged latice work out of the lake, still don't have any frogs, and need a dip, but realize that I had left my dip can back at the cabin. CRAP! I hear 3 other frogs bellowing so I mark where they are, and start honing in on them as I work my way around the lake. There's one that's been croaking steady for the last half an hour, but why should my luck change now. As I get to within about 30 feet of him, he shuts up. OK, I know he's in this weed bed somewhere close. I go wading off into the lake again into the weed bed. Since he's not making any more noise and I can't find him, I just shut my light off. "I'll wait him out" I think. WRONG! After about 10 minutes of standing there listening to the crickets chirping and the other frogs taunting me (3 back in the direction that I've already been), I've had enough. I take one more look around through the weed bed, but can't find the frog. I ease out of the water and go toward the next one. Not more than 2 minutes after I left the one, he starts bellowing again! I go back and ease around and through the weed bed again, but again, to no avail. On to the next one (after of course verbally assaulting the frog in my mind).
Another weed bed, another trip into waist deep water, another time of coming out empty handed. OK now, this isn't funny anymore! I'm 3/4 the way around the lake and I've yet to even SEE a frog! I can hear them. I know they're there. But I'll be danged if I can find any (guess this is why they haven't ended up on the dinner plate by now). Now, I hear another and he's close!!! What's even better is he's in a small, thin weed bed (finally a break!). There he is! Man, he's huge! A swift jab of the gig and he's stuck to the bottom of the lake. In the past, I'd heard of "ground shrink" with deer, and even experienced it a time or two. I found that it can also pertain to frogs..... I get this frog up and go to pull him off of the gig and he's about half the size I thought he was. OK, medium sized frog is OK. He'll still taste the same. I stuff him in the bag, my confidence renewed! I continue on around the lake (after a short bout of having to yell at momma's dogs and run them back up to the house), not seeing or hearing another frog.
Once I'm back at the cabin, the frogs really start singing then! Of course! I would expect nothing else by the way this night has been going! One measly little frog and a set of wet clothes is all I've got to show for almost 3 hours of being on the lake. Bedtime! As I'm laying there listening to the frogs taunt me, one starts croaking under the deck of the cabin. The next morning, I take pictures of the cleaning process, using my one frog as the star of the show.
Big58cal