Went fishing at Lake Orange, got there around 5, took the canoe off the roof, and a thunderstorm hit.
I took refuge and waited out the storm. By the time I put in finally it was about quarter 'til 7. Of course, not 15 minutes after I put in, another storm blew in, and I took shelter in a cove, tied up the canoe, and sat under the canopy, watching the rain fall on the water. While I sat there, I cast a curly tail into the cove, and caught what I believe is a warmouth.
I took refuge and waited out the storm. By the time I put in finally it was about quarter 'til 7. Of course, not 15 minutes after I put in, another storm blew in, and I took shelter in a cove, tied up the canoe, and sat under the canopy, watching the rain fall on the water. While I sat there, I cast a curly tail into the cove, and caught what I believe is a warmouth.
As I took out, I saw a toad sitting there at my car, who hopped away. I should've realized then what was to come, but I don't have the gift of foresight. Driving along the road, hundreds of toads were hopping around on the asphalt. Stupid creatures, not realizing the import of a 16 foot strip of mysterious black rock running through the woods. And of course, me, in a 4000 pound car, bearing down on them, engine racing, exhaust spewing unburned hydrocarbons and monoxide, tires inexorably turning over and over again, squishing toads by the gross.
Actually, I drove slowly, hoping to give the toads time to hop out of the way, but I must have run over at least 10 despite my precautions.
Which leads to the title of this post. When I was younger, american toads were in the genus Bufo, but according to wikipedia, they are now apparently in the genus Anaxyrus. Consequently, my title is taxonomically incorrect. I wish scientists would leave well enough alone; don't we have enough science by now?
