Damn Frogs!

Well, I finally had it with the coastal fog, threw the dog in the bus, joined up with Ed and Suzanne and roared off to Dos Rios. As soon as we cleared the coast range the sun came out like it should on a typical August weekend.

We arrived alongside the Eel River, found our spot, circled the busses and set up camp. We slapped sun screen on our coastal pallor, dug out our respective novels and let boredom set in. It was great.

Boredom is a bit intimidating at first but we soon got the hang of it. As time went by we began to notice things; stuff you don't normally see during 'regular' life. I finally got out of my lawn chair, found a pencil and a piece of paper, and made a list. Here is what we noticed:

Four Golden Eagles. Some kind of scrub jay. A pair of Black Phoebes.
One Kestrel Hawk. Two snakes (Garder snake size), swimming. One Eureka Southern freight (short).
Fresh water clams (Penny size). Baby trout (Fingerlings). Some trout, six to seven inches long.
Red Dragon flies. May flies. - Damsel flies. Monarch butterflies.
House flies. One blue heron. One white goose.
One brown duck. A brown Towhee. White butterflies.
Several California vultures. One Osprey. Grasshoppers.

That's about it, except for the frogs. Damn frogs. Big hummers. Dark green/black with bright green heads, yellow throats and yellow rings around their eyes. Just sitting there in the weeds, across the swimming hole, staring at us.

At first we ignored them. We read our respective novels, drank our respective drinks, put on some more sun screen, but every now and then, one would croak, breaking our concentration. Damn frogs.

Finally Ed and I decided to do something about the situation. We slowly lowered ourselves into the water and with just our eyes and noses sticking out, made our stealthy approach. The frogs shut up and watched us come. Soon we were nose to nose with them. They never blinked. Ed and I retreated to ponder the situation.

After more liquid refreshment we decided the thing to do is catch one. That would put the fear of god into them!

Back into the water. Run silent, run deep. Slowly, slowly, make the final approach. I inch a hand forward through the water and up under a floating frog. I stop whenever the frog throat stops pulsing. I wait for it to resume breathing. Eye to unblinking eye. NOW!

Damn. The little buggers sure are quick.

We fall back and regroup.

"There they are, over there!"

Once again we approach the frogs. Less trust on both sides now. The buggers are getting wise. I try to fling my hat over one. No dice. No wonder us humans invented gun powder. All things being equal, we haven't got a chance.

Well, at least the frogs have moved on.

We resume reading our novels, free of their intimidating stare.

Finally it is time to break camp, pack up, and head home to the fog. Just before we start our engines we hear a tentative croak. As we drive away it becomes a full chorus.

Damn frogs.

On to the next travel story.

Back to travel stories.

Return to blabberon