Saturday, September 13, 2008

Decompression stop

Four days went by waaay too fast, but we had a feeling that the first trip would be a blur.

The Narwhal showed us his fine river from his fine craft, and the Drifter the wonderdog kept us company in our lonely backseat while FishEye, Bobber, Big Al and Flyboy held down the bow in recombinant duos for every float.

This was merely a teaser, though. This trip took the edge off, let us feel the weight of the flow and the size of the fish. Now that we know what lives there, and now that we found the super-secret river decoder ring in our breakfast cereal, we're gonna raise up next week with D and cause mass panic among the trout population.

At least, that is the game plan. But knowing just how fickle these fish are helps us get ready for the beating if it comes. If we steal a game or two, mebbe get a shot at the title, we're good with that.

On the topic of pain and suffering, we also sustained wounds this week, and only some that have the potential to heal. For 2 consecutive days we were taunted by a pair of huuuge fish in the same run, one at top and one at bottom. Both days we got fin in large amounts until we got to the color that they wanted right that minute, and when the spray and waves cleared, both were still finning free and happy in the river while we sobbed quietly in the grass, wondering if we would ever again get a shot at trout that big. We actually held fast to one of the behemoth twins for more than 10 seconds on friday, but he quickly tired of the game and made a run for his pet logjam. Snap. Sigh. Sob.

The only physical wounds we sustained were from our brand spankin' new SA Sharkskin Magnum Taper line. Doin' the extended drift thing with bobbercators means a lot of stripping, and when you have a set of mitts that lose feeling when they get cold, there is potential for some pretty gnarly lineburn...

At any rate, we are now on the clock. We have writing deadlines to meet, beads to paint, super-secret rituals to perform, and mad superpowers to wish for...all in just 6 days.

144 hours until the next road trip.

We can't wait for the plane.

1 comment:

Reel Pure said...

OK G. I'm officially horny. Everything in my power will be done to be your wingman. Westbound on the Seward Highway? We'll know if I'm in soon. Mrs. Rathbun is rarely a tough close, but this will take some work. Work I'm willing to do.