" SOCKS B"
The morning of September 2nd, found me in the TRFA rookie cabin, discovering a dilemma. Figuring that I would be leaving the Togiak to head back to the BBL lodge, I had only packed 1 extra pair of socks, a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve T and a dress shirt for dinner. I had worn the sweats and the long sleeve shirt and T the day before fishing and as it was quite warm, now, they did not smell all that great. To start the day I had not much of a choice, so I donned the smelly gear and off I went. Did I mention that it was now raining?
Smitty at the helm we headed down stream, rain drops streaking the sunglasses. Down we went to the 3 fingers area. Pulled into a gravel bar and quickley got into salmon. As we had only kept one fish the previous day, we unleashed the dogs of war, and let the killing begin. Quickly we had 9 fish tied up to the boat with rope to bleed out. All died from blunt force trama. (a pipe to the head) The fish came fast and furious! So did the rain. It was hard to get the camera's out. but I still got a lot of footage on the new video recorder, and the trusty old Minolta. Rain or no rain, I captured the scene. Our Rods were bent constantly and my knuckles got seriously shredded by my fly reel and a really pissed off Silver. (it took a pipe to the head) Bastard!! Soaked and hurting Smitty and I headed home. Realizing we had not even taken time to eat lunch. We each had a can of root beer and that was it. We cleaned fish and packed them and I headed to the cabin to peel off my waders and my soaked shirts and the incredebly, nasty smelling sweats and of course "Socks B" A quick shower and into my pants and semi-cleanest shirt and well, commando all the way. Off to dinner! Then exhausted, into the rack, 9:15 pm. The sun still shining. How in the hell did I do this for 115 days straight? Man , I'm old.
The morning of September 2nd, found me in the TRFA rookie cabin, discovering a dilemma. Figuring that I would be leaving the Togiak to head back to the BBL lodge, I had only packed 1 extra pair of socks, a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve T and a dress shirt for dinner. I had worn the sweats and the long sleeve shirt and T the day before fishing and as it was quite warm, now, they did not smell all that great. To start the day I had not much of a choice, so I donned the smelly gear and off I went. Did I mention that it was now raining?
Smitty at the helm we headed down stream, rain drops streaking the sunglasses. Down we went to the 3 fingers area. Pulled into a gravel bar and quickley got into salmon. As we had only kept one fish the previous day, we unleashed the dogs of war, and let the killing begin. Quickly we had 9 fish tied up to the boat with rope to bleed out. All died from blunt force trama. (a pipe to the head) The fish came fast and furious! So did the rain. It was hard to get the camera's out. but I still got a lot of footage on the new video recorder, and the trusty old Minolta. Rain or no rain, I captured the scene. Our Rods were bent constantly and my knuckles got seriously shredded by my fly reel and a really pissed off Silver. (it took a pipe to the head) Bastard!! Soaked and hurting Smitty and I headed home. Realizing we had not even taken time to eat lunch. We each had a can of root beer and that was it. We cleaned fish and packed them and I headed to the cabin to peel off my waders and my soaked shirts and the incredebly, nasty smelling sweats and of course "Socks B" A quick shower and into my pants and semi-cleanest shirt and well, commando all the way. Off to dinner! Then exhausted, into the rack, 9:15 pm. The sun still shining. How in the hell did I do this for 115 days straight? Man , I'm old.
posted by Spike | 8:38 PM
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