Lonely Larry should have been an omen.
Not much water flowing today, despite the rain that chose to pound us nonstop the entire time we were on the water. Visibility at about 8ft, which is great for a semi-glacial river but sucks for trying to sneak up on fish, which is what Big B was trying to do to Lonely Larry.
Lonely Larry was on an inside seam in the most high-traffic hole on the entire creek...not that there was much competition today...and highly visible from the bridge, the parking lot, and probably most low-flying aircraft.
We threw the best at him. We threw the rest at him. Hell, we would have put on eggs just to make sure he wasn't going to eat them, too. After a bit, Larry had enough and drifted off to parts unknown, but the message was clear.
It's Over. Go Home.
The last fish came later, after a few too many holes and more than enough walking to determine that this particular equine was, in fact, deceased. We worked hard for it, so it was nice of the Daughter of Fog to give us a special Parting Gift.
Big B looking pensive, wondering if it is all really worth it...cold, raining, and the river we are in front of probably doesn't have any fish either.
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