Son of a Fish

Trout Whisperer

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  • Prostaff Member Trout Whisperer

Most of nature is pretty pristine. Things get kinda murky in the verbiage department when what seems easy or obvious suddenly goes awry. I stop speaking clearly and use words that really don't add to the ethereal outdoor experience. Words that upon calmer reflection were used in oral haste.

Kinda makes ya wonder doesn't it, you scout for a month solid. Tracks as regular as my eight hour work day past my stand. The buck is gone one day before deer season. One day after deer season the neighbor comes over with the buck in a photo at his house four miles away swinging from his meat pole.

I request my vacation from said work schedule months in advance to catch the annual spring steelhead run. I get my time off and the bullet nosed trout run starts one day after I’m back at the grind.

Four guys ice fishing in something close to seventeen below zero, and were sharing shacks, two guys per shack. The guy I team up with ate chili for lunch today. He apologizes about every four minutes and I have three hours to go in this aromatic ice palace.

Ever show up at the brookie stream and you remember setting the fresh bought crawlers on the bumper of your pickup truck forty five graveled miles behind you. I was just saying hi to a fellow bait box patron and forgot to tuck them away.

. Neighbor borrows boat on Wednesday afternoon, then the following Saturday morning I think to myself, who on Gods green earth untied my anchor line from the boat as the line sinks away into the depths.

When I hit mid life I had to have glasses to tie on fish hooks or read maps. I’m in the river upright and dry. I put on my new one hundred forty dollar prescription spectacles and proceed to tie on a fly. Something crashes through the brush on the river bank, I jerk my head quickly to see what happened and my glasses fall into the river and wash down stream.

I can't find my camping headlamp flashlight. Im sure somebody borrowed it for a girl's sleepover at the home I reside in. I run into the superstore and grab a flashlight kit on the way out of town. (Flashlight, batteries, bulb, and lanyard). That first evening of a four day trip, get out of tent at midnight to answer natures call, and the brand new flashlight has brand new never been used dead batteries. Store clerk when I try to return it. “Do you have your receipt”?

Some of my less favorite outdoor sentences, heard by me.
“Say, do you have another tent? “No I don't, why”? “I think the fire got too close to the tent when I set it up”. “Im not saying were lost, but do you have any idea where we are”? “This water is so clear”, “I can see your fillet knife all the way down on the lake bottom”
“That's your dog?” “We watched it roll in that for almost fifteen minutes”.

There is a correct way to end any sentence, especially if you count to ten, first, before responding. My daughter started charging me a quarter every time I cussed, so now I just end them all with “son of a fish”, it's cheaper.

Posted by Trout Whisperer under Hunting Stories on March 16, 09 07:58 AM | Permalink

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