While we were slaving away in the room of despair all last week, the Wife was deep in the Dirty Souf, gettin' in touch with her Inner Redneck. Armed with an airboat, a half-rack of Miller Lite and a few seedy relatives, she went to get her noodle on.
After toolin' around in this bad larry, the wife has declared that our RedNeck Ride just isn't redneck enough, and we need one of these. What for, we'll never know, but if we remember correctly, they're fun as hell. Maybe we could noodle for moose...
They may be loud and they may be redneck, but you gotta respect anything that runs in the mere suggestion of water.
Apparently, no one here is concerned about what else may be living in that hole.
With Uncle K kibitzing, the wife makes her move.
Bro-in-law, gettin it done.
Fixin' to get et, directly.
Done got et.
Except for sticking your hands in a dark hole looking to get bit, the whole noodlin' thing looks like fun. Probably wouldn't work for steelhead, but mebbe we'll give it a try next spring.