Size Matters

Anyone who has fished for any length of time knows size matters. Whether your quarry is stripped bass, large chrome, or freshwater bones stories are relived in inches, feet if the gods smile on you. The more I fish, the more I find myself chasing scenery. The quest for solitude will take you to some amazing places, and while the big browns are moving in the tailwaters, and rivers where the fishing is nut to butt… I’ve come to the conclusion that size, well… it really doesn’t matter.

J

Friday Cheer Through Pics...

Friday Cheer Through Pics...

Friday Cheer Through Pics...

Smoked Out...A High Country Ho'Down

I graciously excepted an invite Saturday (even though I had already promised the better half I would take the mascot and his suitors to doggie fun land) to join KPV and a friend (who will remain nameless due to legal issues) to hit the high county for a little wild trout'in. We met up early as hell and they followed the almighty Trout Slayer as I had to drive separate in order to return early to attend the afore mentioned doggie fun land. We decided to head over the mountain to save time and the drive in looked mostly like this...(See image right--->)                                                                    
We eventually made it through Cheech N' Chongs smoke cloud and down the mountain. The water was raging from the recent rain and I knew it was going to be a day of chucking lead and donating flies to the cause. We geard up, hit the water and within thirty minutes I was into my first fish. Nice 10" Bow gobbled down a black rubber legged stone and within a few more minutes I had another smaller wild bow on. I then look downstream and our friend who we will call Chief Numb Thumb had stuck one as well. At this point I'm thinking this is going to be an epic day and the only way I'm leaving early is from a sudden heart attack. Needless to say the bite shut off as quickly as it had started...we fished for another two hours without another bite before I had to bid my band of followers farewell.
YAY FOR ME I was going to be able to make it back in time to escort Cephus and his bitches after all. After waking up at the crack of dawn I had to watch Cephus hump every male dog senseless at the park like he just busted out of prison. I got a call from KPV and he said they hung around until three and in the end he resorted to flogging the head of a pool with a stick while Chief Numb Thumb hung out in the tail of the pool with a net trying to land the trout that where spooked by all the commotion. I advised them this is frowned upon by DNR but, was told to mind my own business. It's all good though twenty three days and counting until FLY makes their way to the Tar Heel state. Stay tuned...

 J