A Fishing Story
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June 11, 2007
Greer, Arizona (8-day fishing vacation in the White Mountains of Arizona)
I fished yesterday for two hours and caught six trout. Not bad for using earthworms and a two hook-leader-weight fishing rig I've never used before.
It took me thirty minutes to tie the fishing rig (gotta know the bowline from the surgeon's knot) and less than two minutes to catch two trout. It was a mixed feeling to pull the two trout from the ebbing Tunnel Reservior, then set them free without harm.
My red "I don't care" chair was a lucky fetish as I caught my largest trout by using someone else's long forgotten fishing line and plastic worm. As I drug my two hook rig through the lake grass, the first hook grabbed the tangled mess of forgotten line and worm and caused its enticing wobble to be swallowed by a keyboard-length trout.
The size of the trout and my endeavors to release it caused a nearby fisherman to ask about my bait. Such is the fate of those who win by luck and not by skill.
I gave the other three fish I caught to a teenage girl who was fishing nearby. She was dressed all in pink, from her hat, to her shoes, to her braces. She thanked me and walked away with a good-sized dinner for her family.
By 2 o'clock, I was done with fishing. The sun was burning the only exposed part of my hands and I was tired of releasing fish. On my way to the truck, I asked those along the shore about their luck. One of the men was quite proud of his catch and displayed a trout a tad smaller than my largest trout.
As I marveled at his catch, the fellow who had seen my trout was walking past us. He smiled at the story and tipped his hat to me. I returned it and went back to listening to a proud man talk about his biggest catch of the season.
--
June 11, 2007
Greer, Arizona (8-day fishing vacation in the White Mountains of Arizona)
I fished yesterday for two hours and caught six trout. Not bad for using earthworms and a two hook-leader-weight fishing rig I've never used before.
It took me thirty minutes to tie the fishing rig (gotta know the bowline from the surgeon's knot) and less than two minutes to catch two trout. It was a mixed feeling to pull the two trout from the ebbing Tunnel Reservior, then set them free without harm.
My red "I don't care" chair was a lucky fetish as I caught my largest trout by using someone else's long forgotten fishing line and plastic worm. As I drug my two hook rig through the lake grass, the first hook grabbed the tangled mess of forgotten line and worm and caused its enticing wobble to be swallowed by a keyboard-length trout.
The size of the trout and my endeavors to release it caused a nearby fisherman to ask about my bait. Such is the fate of those who win by luck and not by skill.
I gave the other three fish I caught to a teenage girl who was fishing nearby. She was dressed all in pink, from her hat, to her shoes, to her braces. She thanked me and walked away with a good-sized dinner for her family.
By 2 o'clock, I was done with fishing. The sun was burning the only exposed part of my hands and I was tired of releasing fish. On my way to the truck, I asked those along the shore about their luck. One of the men was quite proud of his catch and displayed a trout a tad smaller than my largest trout.
As I marveled at his catch, the fellow who had seen my trout was walking past us. He smiled at the story and tipped his hat to me. I returned it and went back to listening to a proud man talk about his biggest catch of the season.
--
posted by Mike Chandler | 2:37 PM
1 Comments:
Mike,
I only read a few of your stories, but enjoyed them very much. I'll be back.
Jim
www.jimsjourney.wordpress.com/
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