Some friends had planned camping at Butte La Rose for the 4th of July weekend, and I finally managed to go meet them Saturday afternoon. The water was high and the fish weren’t biting; it was hot and steamy, the mosquitoes and gnats were bad. Despite all that, the campground was full and everybody passed a good time. There was lots of talk, beer, music, dance, and food. I set a trotline and stayed out of the partying; every time I went to run my line, the festivities were still continuing. It had finally quieted down when I took up my lines at sunrise. I caught enough catfish for supper, but not enough to justify my four- dollar- a- gallon travel expense.
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