Man’s escape to the fishing hole
By m storyman x – listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I pushed the boat away and motored almost silently down about half the length of the lake to a nice weed bed, and started to work a small fly along the edges of the weeds.
The rain started less than two hours later, but I was ready for it, mostly. I pulled on the rain suit I'd taken along to fend off the ice cold drops. The cold began to seep through the light weight rain suit as the temperature dropped precipitously, easily down over a dozen degrees in the first twenty minutes. This storm had all the earmarks of one intending to stay for a while. It was late summer, which meant that the temperatures could easily reach up to ninety if it was clear, but it could also get uncomfortably cold at these altitudes.