My good friend Brooke had been trying for months to take us to dinner at the Lake Mansfield Trout Club in Stowe, and his efforts were finally paid off last Saturday. He’s been a member of the club since his kids were little. Although he’s never particularly been an avid fisherman, he pays the dues so that he can just go there and take advantage of the beauty, peace, and charm that the place exudes. Now he was going to share that magic with us.
I didn’t know what to expect. I’ve never been to a trout club. But I figured it would be similar to a country club, only with people carrying rods instead of clubs, rowing boats instead of driving carts, yelling “Twitch it!” instead of “Fore!” and instead of making birds, everyone would be catching fish. As it turned out the place has about as much in common with a country club as a bowling alley.
Dinner was promptly served at 6:30 and was prime rib. If you wanted roast duck at 8:00 you were out of luck. Alcohol was not allowed in the dining area, so we had a few drinks in the adjoining room beforehand. Brooke made up some vodka tonics. I had a glass of juice. For the month of September, alcohol and I are doing a trial separation. It’s going well and we’re making progress. As part of the separation, alcohol is allowed to see other people and I am free to see other beverages. So far I’ve become quite fond of tea and seltzer.
We shared a large table with a bunch of people we had never met before. I’m usually not a big fan of this sort of arrangement, but it turned out to be quite nice. People who fish are very friendly, and getting to know friendly people you’ll never see again is an interesting social activity, like chatting with a fellow passenger on an airplane. One of the fellows I spoke with was a cabinet maker. Another was an investment banker. You can guess which one I had an easier time talking to.
After dinner we sat in rocking chairs on a large porch overlooking the lake. It was a great way to wind down the very pleasant evening that we all shared together. Brooke is adamant about taking us there again, when the lake isn’t drained as it was on this particular occasion. The fact that we were unable to row around the lake after dinner had no effect on our good time, but to Brooke that didn’t matter. He was disappointed that we weren’t given the full experience, and so we’re going to try again. Maybe this time we’ll sit at a table with a bike mechanic.
I didn’t know what to expect. I’ve never been to a trout club. But I figured it would be similar to a country club, only with people carrying rods instead of clubs, rowing boats instead of driving carts, yelling “Twitch it!” instead of “Fore!” and instead of making birds, everyone would be catching fish. As it turned out the place has about as much in common with a country club as a bowling alley.
Dinner was promptly served at 6:30 and was prime rib. If you wanted roast duck at 8:00 you were out of luck. Alcohol was not allowed in the dining area, so we had a few drinks in the adjoining room beforehand. Brooke made up some vodka tonics. I had a glass of juice. For the month of September, alcohol and I are doing a trial separation. It’s going well and we’re making progress. As part of the separation, alcohol is allowed to see other people and I am free to see other beverages. So far I’ve become quite fond of tea and seltzer.
We shared a large table with a bunch of people we had never met before. I’m usually not a big fan of this sort of arrangement, but it turned out to be quite nice. People who fish are very friendly, and getting to know friendly people you’ll never see again is an interesting social activity, like chatting with a fellow passenger on an airplane. One of the fellows I spoke with was a cabinet maker. Another was an investment banker. You can guess which one I had an easier time talking to.
After dinner we sat in rocking chairs on a large porch overlooking the lake. It was a great way to wind down the very pleasant evening that we all shared together. Brooke is adamant about taking us there again, when the lake isn’t drained as it was on this particular occasion. The fact that we were unable to row around the lake after dinner had no effect on our good time, but to Brooke that didn’t matter. He was disappointed that we weren’t given the full experience, and so we’re going to try again. Maybe this time we’ll sit at a table with a bike mechanic.
1 comment:
You're becoming so burgoious. I didn't even know of such things, and I'm a fisherman.
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