Trout Whisperer posted on July 30, 2009 15:28 :: 3320 Views
As a bachelor that has empty nested, if I want to go fishing, I go. Trying to line up with everybody else gets tough. First you plan the eventual day, and then we decide on a stream I hope is ripe for the pickens. Sometimes it takes more than an act of congress to pull it off, but if we do, we fish, catch fish, cook fish and finally eat fish.
This evening, it’s all here; finally, this all came together. We even have a few extra itches around the picnic table tonight. The brook trout were big this time, maybe abit spaced along the creeks so we adjusted and fished in wider gaps. Now with all the extra hiking, one in the crowd just had to complain about how far we trekked, it was so hot like scorched earth, the bugs, even how heavy his fish was, you just can’t please everybody.
Gleaned fish bones, empty tumblers and corn cobs are all that’s left on these dinner plates. We ended up on empty plates, one fish at a time. I got to replay my only keeper during the ears of corn course. The others were busy munching so I could actually get a word in edge wise because I had to keep my mouth shut for so long during the main entree, not to mention salad, and dessert.
They as a group hit the mother load and I heard about it from every quadrant. One quadrangle was extremely proud of a fourteen incher. Mr. Complainer, who hardly ever catches anything, for the first time in recorded history, had top trout for the day. For the rest of us that was pretty hard to swallow.
We shoulda fished under the banks better. If I woulda tried the head of the crawler in the rapids, instead of the tail, like in the pools, then I wouldn’t have had so much lettuce tonight. Oh the laughter of best friends, when a man known to us all as “Earthburner” bellows to me, "pass the shortcake will you, since you’re done with your one fish."
Our hook size must have been off. Did we by any chance get bug dope on our fingers before we baited up? Let’s just say there wasn’t much left on the bones after it was all chewed mashed and regurgitated by earthburner.
The meal is over. Amazingly colored trout grilled atop the flames have been reduced to fumes, but for one solid hour during a twilight of summer fireflies flickering up here and then there, we fought those digested fish over and over again. The meal was great. The talking about them after was even better, and that still allows for my meager share.
We got up to clear the dishes, all except earthburner, see there is one half a piece of cake left, Earthburner wants to know if everyone else is full, we said yeah E-B, once again, we’ve had enough.
The trout whisperer
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