Thaaaaat's right, kids.
It's officially bead season...sorry, D. We know you are probably being resolute about this whole "no bead" thing you and the boys got goin', but...We just don't have that kind of time to play around on the creek. This summer thingy only lasts a few weeks here in the rainforest, so we take advantage wherever we find it.
Got a reprieve from slave labor yesterday, so we decided to use our time wisely. We picked up a sixpack of tallboys and headed on down to the farm to see if the dollies were in yet.
The Narwhal is in town on a "working vacation" from Los Anchorage, so we punched him up on the mobby and gave him directions to the farm. A quick switch of business attires and we were ready for the day...
...Except that we brought the flybox, not the beadbox. There were a few fish to be had on the darts, and one on a slider, but something seemed...off. We retreated to the safety of the parking lot and more beer, and there we dug through the Narwhal's stuff until we found the bead we were looking for - round, egg-colored, sorta small.
In case you haven't experienced it, early bead season fish are not that picky. We bet you could probably paint a bowling ball with Revlon 162, add a dash of nude, and roll it down the creek during early bead and you would still get a few takers. It's nice to fish for aggressive fish when the senses are rusty from a winter of misuse, lets a fella get the machine all tuned up and dialed in.
At any rate, we beaded up a few from the tideline before the Narwhal had to go back to work. After he left, we hit the midstretch and found a whole pile of staged fish keyed in on a few lonely chums. The fish were in a good mood, and soon we were slipping over the edge into summer, finally.
We stayed about an hour and a half more than we wanted to, but bead season dollies make us do dumb stuff like that. Upon arrival at the Neil Creek estate, we made all the necessary preparations - 2 dozen new bead rigs, pack up the bead bag, teach the dog how to use the can opener, give the neighbors $50 to look after the place...
It's Game on, fisha.
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4 comments:
call me next time you bitch
The other day I found a bead rolling around in the pack. The big drop is right around the corner and I'm like a fat kid pressed up against the window at Krispy Kreme. Cover your eyes boy...but it's too late. I can already see what's inside. -D
D-
Yeah, you got a tough row to hoe, mang. Kinda hard to spey when the river is full of reds.
Stay strong, Fisha. Use the force...and a sculpin.
Junior-
What, we gotta hold your hand, lead you around, tell you when things are goin off in your hometown?
I do not understand your written.
Prefer pictures! 王を持つ魚!
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