Lighter Side

What is life if there is not laughter? Welcome to the lighter side of flyfishing! We welcome your stories here!
January 27th, 2003

Watch Out for the Guys in the Grass
Bob Lawless, Port Ludlow, WA

This epistle is meant to warn all of you, my dearest and only friends, of the dangers of crawling through grass to get the drop on some big Brown Trout and finding someone else crawling beside you, intent upon the same fish.

Somehow when I am crawling like this, I get the feeling that I'm a bad person, sneaky, dishonest, thief-like, certainly a jerkwater.

And so this is how I felt when I spotted George (this is an AKA because his real name is William, but his friends all call him Nancy, and I've taken to referring to him as Phil). My pet vest parrot, "Oleander" calls him sewer ears and smolt, my tiny vest dog, just calls him woof (it's all you can do when you have no human vocal cords and your brain somehow got dropped on the floor when God made you).

Now Phil is ok as far it goes, sneaking, as we were, toward the same objective, the big bad brown. I tried my best to be friendly but I found this difficult because a sharp rock was digging into my elephant and I thought he should move over a bit because only a few strands of grass separated us, and this is way too close when crawling along together after fish.

He said he hoped he would not disturb the pool too much seeing as how he would fish it first. I told him to "HOLD IT" because I thought I was slightly ahead of him. He then pointed to the rods we were poking along ahead of us. "I see you have an 8 1/2' 3-4 weight rod; notice that mine is a 5-6 wt. and is 9' in length. I think that settles it," he concluded. "I'm more than six inches out in front," he said with authority.

So I then unleased my fly from the keeper and banjoed a small cast forward, enough to give me the lead. Then Phil jumps up and starts flailing the air to get line out and makes a ridiculous, sloppy cast, landing with a huge splash in front of the fish, the fly having a bit of weed snagged on the hook. Brown gone.

So I hit him.

He then started to chase me and I could see our friendship was not progressing as it should. I ran out into the river and swam for it.

Phil was in hot pursuit. When I touched bottom on the other side, I grabbed a nice, mossy rock and beaned him. He floated off face down. I think you could safely say that our friendship was now on the rocks.

But I dragged him out after I was sure he was mostly drowned and would not punch me. Remember here that by doing so, I had saved his life. And I told him so.

He said, "Yeah, but you started it."

We waded back across the stream together, arm in arm, to fight off the mossy rocks and heavy current.

After we had used each other thusly, I told him to never let me find him again on the river or I would kick his caddis. Now he starts chasing me again.

I got away. But what is the lesson here? I thinks it's don't wear waders when fishing, but get yourself a good pair of track shoes. What do you think? ~ BOBLAWLESS

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