Typical Question on a local board

This forum is for general topics. Keep all posts, images, etc safe for those who read the forum at work. Post only that content that you'd want your mama to read. Violators will be banned.
DayTripper
Posts: 2041
Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2007 1:01 am
Location: northern mi

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by DayTripper » Wed Mar 02, 2016 8:39 pm

There is so much here, I don't even know where to start...

A hot cup of coffee steams up the windows as I pull off the side of the road and listen to the snow crunch under my tires. My head spinning while I dream of what the near future holds for me. Today, I hope the conditions are right. "Please, let the water have a little murk, but not too much. Give me a current that flows just enough, but not too strong." With growing concern that perhaps the overnight temperatures placed a layer of razor-sharp shelf ice along my favorite holes, I ponder: "What if I'm unable to get the proper drifts with my float? Do I have an alternate plan in mind? What other creeks or rivers may be right if this one fails? Do I stay and risk not catching anything if I don't hook a fish in the first hour? I don't want to commit too much to an area if the bite isn't on."

Steelhead fishing will drive you insane. Fished them before? Yeah, you understand. The ghosts of the waters. The fish we spend years and years trying to understand, just to go out and get skunked after we think we have them figured out. What an incredible target. What a desirable goal. It doesn't matter how many we have caught in the past; it only takes a drop of the float or the wiggle of the rod tip to get our blood pressure sky high. Return with me to my morning...

I quickly put my waders on (thinking I can beat the cold) and reach for my coffee to warm my insides. Ahhh. That's it. With rod in hand, and a quick swing of the net and backpack, it's down the dark trail, careful not to trip over the numerous fallen trees that have succumb to winter's treachery. Pressure is building. The excitement is like no other. Guiding my way through the darkness, I feel like I would imagine these steelhead do after a warm spring rain; eager to make it to gravel, they push relentlessly, putting aside the threat of predators, yet maintaining a stealthy and ghastly existence. I do the same this morning. Regardless of the exposed roots and the icy embankments, I trudge on at an unnatural rate almost recklessly. Tripping and slipping, racing to my destination.

This is how it works every time I steelhead fish. It's funny. My other hobbies, they come, they go, but this one is different. It's adrenaline only comparable to the thought of winning the Powerball after purchasing a ticket. I've been steelhead fishing for about 11 years now and can't imagine life without these moments anymore. It's my drug. We continue...

Finally, as not to disturb the edge of the creek, I slowly lower myself into the water and await the sunrise. At the first possible moment, when my eyes begin to adjust slightly to my surroundings, I cast. It's dead still. Silent. The float, the sinker, the bait of choice. All three hit the water independently and begin their trip down the creek. The first cast is always the most exciting. Be it the first of a particular hole, or the first cast in two weeks, they are equal in value. I reel in and cast once again. This time, bobber down! The hookset tells me I've found myself an unwanted catch. A log. My mind returns to panic, "If my line snaps, I have to waste this perfect moment re-tying, or worse yet, it may create a disturbance and spook a fish." SNAP! I reel in what is left. I re-tie and consider a color change. "No, I'm sticking with this one."

Five or six casts go by, each targeting a different seam, or a different part of the run. I cast the line to the front of the run and it drifts over a spot already targeted another time. I know this run. If the float drops here, it's a fish for sure! It travels another two feet and vanishes beneath the surface. I swing the rod to set the hook and immediately am gifted with a flash of silver at the other end. It's on!

The head shakes begin slow and after a few seconds, this fish realizes that he is in a fight for his life. He darts and jumps! After giving me a show he returns to the depths of the run and begins coiling in the murky water. Forward and back, he thrashes and spins to release the meal he now regrets having eaten. However, I am just as nervous. Making certain to not allow this beast to push me into a log jam or snap the line on a screaming run. I check my drag; perfect. Over the next 5 minutes he rolls and kicks until finally, the struggle slows and I coax him toward me with net in hand. As I slide it beneath his body, relief runs over me. It's done. Just one fight and my day is made. An opportunity, a challenge, an unrelenting desire; fulfilled.

Get out and feel the power. The serenity of the winter is breathtaking. Add a steelhead to your morning, and the addiction will fuel you time and time again.

User avatar
austrotard
Posts: 9998
Joined: Thu Dec 06, 2012 2:24 am
Location: the austrocity exhibition
Contact:

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by austrotard » Wed Mar 02, 2016 9:01 pm

how can this be a fishing story when I can't seem to find the part about gerry adams et al?

it's totally incomplete.
no durries either. gay.




between you and I: you nicked this off family guy, didn't you?
I'm fairly certain brian writes this when he finds a love for two dogs proudfoot (voiced by april vokey).

I know what goes on.
we'll always have buffalo, sweet josh.

-mtice

Heero[CntRmbrPwd]
Posts: 3363
Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2011 9:49 am

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by Heero[CntRmbrPwd] » Wed Mar 02, 2016 9:06 pm

When the bobber goes down the music goes up.

User avatar
austrotard
Posts: 9998
Joined: Thu Dec 06, 2012 2:24 am
Location: the austrocity exhibition
Contact:

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by austrotard » Wed Mar 02, 2016 9:24 pm

and it was then, when I realised... a bad day of fishing is better than a good day at work.

the end.





books are available at $60 after I get them back from google publishing.
bob, your order has been added.

like me on facebook.
tight lines and god bless.

-travis clayton buckingham sr.
we'll always have buffalo, sweet josh.

-mtice

User avatar
-G-
Posts: 595
Joined: Tue Nov 17, 2015 4:31 pm

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by -G- » Wed Mar 02, 2016 10:31 pm

DayTripper wrote: I check my drag; perfect.
Which is of utmost importance when fighting a steelhead out of 34 degree water.
DayTripper wrote:Do I stay and risk not catching anything if I don't hook a fish in the first hour?
Yeah that'd be a slow morning 'wudden it'. Worse is when you catch a 20 inch brown and watch the 'sumbitch' flop on the gravel only to kick it back home wishin' he were a 'steelie'.
DayTripper wrote:the bait of choice
Aka spawn from the hen he caught last weekend tied in yellow, pink, and chartreuse bags all in labeled mason jars that smell a little like last years samin spawn he ran out of by now.
Maybe we haven't drank enough Busch- Nolan

User avatar
upshitscreek
Posts: 994
Joined: Fri Apr 03, 2009 8:44 pm
Location: lost and found bin

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by upshitscreek » Thu Mar 03, 2016 7:27 am

I like his technique of randomly hitting the "enter" button to start a new paragraph.

User avatar
Redchaser
Posts: 6032
Joined: Fri Jun 16, 2006 1:01 am
Location: Lafayette, La
Contact:

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by Redchaser » Thu Mar 03, 2016 8:24 am

DayTripper wrote:There is so much here, I don't even know where to start...

A hot cup of coffee steams up the windows as I pull off the side of the road and listen to the snow crunch under my tires. My head spinning while I dream of what the near future holds for me. Today, I hope the conditions are right. "Please, let the water have a little murk, but not too much. Give me a current that flows just enough, but not too strong." With growing concern that perhaps the overnight temperatures placed a layer of razor-sharp shelf ice along my favorite holes, I ponder: "What if I'm unable to get the proper drifts with my float? Do I have an alternate plan in mind? What other creeks or rivers may be right if this one fails? Do I stay and risk not catching anything if I don't hook a fish in the first hour? I don't want to commit too much to an area if the bite isn't on."

Steelhead fishing will drive you insane. Fished them before? Yeah, you understand. The ghosts of the waters. The fish we spend years and years trying to understand, just to go out and get skunked after we think we have them figured out. What an incredible target. What a desirable goal. It doesn't matter how many we have caught in the past; it only takes a drop of the float or the wiggle of the rod tip to get our blood pressure sky high. Return with me to my morning...

I quickly put my waders on (thinking I can beat the cold) and reach for my coffee to warm my insides. Ahhh. That's it. With rod in hand, and a quick swing of the net and backpack, it's down the dark trail, careful not to trip over the numerous fallen trees that have succumb to winter's treachery. Pressure is building. The excitement is like no other. Guiding my way through the darkness, I feel like I would imagine these steelhead do after a warm spring rain; eager to make it to gravel, they push relentlessly, putting aside the threat of predators, yet maintaining a stealthy and ghastly existence. I do the same this morning. Regardless of the exposed roots and the icy embankments, I trudge on at an unnatural rate almost recklessly. Tripping and slipping, racing to my destination.

This is how it works every time I steelhead fish. It's funny. My other hobbies, they come, they go, but this one is different. It's adrenaline only comparable to the thought of winning the Powerball after purchasing a ticket. I've been steelhead fishing for about 11 years now and can't imagine life without these moments anymore. It's my drug. We continue...

Finally, as not to disturb the edge of the creek, I slowly lower myself into the water and await the sunrise. At the first possible moment, when my eyes begin to adjust slightly to my surroundings, I cast. It's dead still. Silent. The float, the sinker, the bait of choice. All three hit the water independently and begin their trip down the creek. The first cast is always the most exciting. Be it the first of a particular hole, or the first cast in two weeks, they are equal in value. I reel in and cast once again. This time, bobber down! The hookset tells me I've found myself an unwanted catch. A log. My mind returns to panic, "If my line snaps, I have to waste this perfect moment re-tying, or worse yet, it may create a disturbance and spook a fish." SNAP! I reel in what is left. I re-tie and consider a color change. "No, I'm sticking with this one."

Five or six casts go by, each targeting a different seam, or a different part of the run. I cast the line to the front of the run and it drifts over a spot already targeted another time. I know this run. If the float drops here, it's a fish for sure! It travels another two feet and vanishes beneath the surface. I swing the rod to set the hook and immediately am gifted with a flash of silver at the other end. It's on!

The head shakes begin slow and after a few seconds, this fish realizes that he is in a fight for his life. He darts and jumps! After giving me a show he returns to the depths of the run and begins coiling in the murky water. Forward and back, he thrashes and spins to release the meal he now regrets having eaten. However, I am just as nervous. Making certain to not allow this beast to push me into a log jam or snap the line on a screaming run. I check my drag; perfect. Over the next 5 minutes he rolls and kicks until finally, the struggle slows and I coax him toward me with net in hand. As I slide it beneath his body, relief runs over me. It's done. Just one fight and my day is made. An opportunity, a challenge, an unrelenting desire; fulfilled.

Get out and feel the power. The serenity of the winter is breathtaking. Add a steelhead to your morning, and the addiction will fuel you time and time again.
So should this be titled "Pinners Poetry" ?
"... don’t let your life become the sloppy leftovers of your work" Jim Harrison

"Put in the effort and good things happen"... Hogleg

"Salinity is proportional to sanity for sure" ..The Volfish

Redchaser.com, all about Louisiana Fly Fishing

User avatar
dolomieu
Posts: 38
Joined: Thu Jan 30, 2014 8:19 am
Location: banks of where the st croix falls

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by dolomieu » Thu Mar 03, 2016 8:26 am

"Ahhh. That's it. With rod in hand"


It's not that bad. For example, this line with no other context sets a pretty good scene

User avatar
Average Joe
Posts: 2728
Joined: Mon Feb 27, 2012 3:04 pm
Location: Where they rip out the trees and name streets after them.

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by Average Joe » Fri Mar 04, 2016 12:08 am

I set up my foldy-chair and settle back on the bank with a cigar and a breakfast beer.

Suddenly and without warning a jackass who has no fucking clue how a window defroster works nearly drives his Ford Pinto into a ditch.

The jackass stumbles out of his car and immediately starts talking to himself.

"Please, let the water have a little murk, but not too much. Give me a current that flows just enough, but not too strong."

What the fuck is he going on about?

"What if I'm unable to get the proper drifts with my float? Do I have an alternate plan in mind? What other creeks or rivers may be right if this one fails? Do I stay and risk not catching anything if I don't hook a fish in the first hour? I don't want to commit too much to an area if the bite isn't on."

Holy shit. This guy is a loon.

I watch him open the hatchback, put on his neoprenes, and then reach for a cup of 7-11 coffee. He's failed to properly secure the lid, and as he brings it to his lips hot coffee runs down the side of the Syrofoam cup and burns his fingers. He instinctively drops the cup, and the entire contents spill into his waders. I watch his eyes roll into the back of his head as he tilts his face towards the sky and moans, "Ahhhh."

jfc

He grabs an ugly stick, a nylon net, and a Hello Kitty napsack from the back of the Pinto and then stumbles down the trail towards the river.

I watch him as he falls once.

Twice.

And then a third time.

"Jackass must have started before I did," I mumble before I pop another top.

He falls one last time and then slides on his ass, feet first, directly into the creek.

He stands there for a moment or two, somewhat shocked that he managed to stay upright after hitting the water, and then recovers.

I watch as he reaches into the napsack and pulls out a gob of rainbow-colored Powerbait.

He squeezes it onto the treble hook, licks his fingers, and then opens the bail on his reel and flicks his wrist.

The float, sinker, treble and bait sail through the air, like drunken comets with shimmering, fluorocarbon tails, and I watch as the entire mess lands no less than two feet from where pbr is standing.

And then a thought crosses my mind.

This will not end well.

Pbr thinks it's me throwing rocks at him, and is too busy concentrating on his drift to pay much notice to anything else.

Our intrepid angler makes another cast. This time it lands upstream of pbr, behind his back, and then quickly gets hung up on a log.

Without turning around pbr spits the following words through his teeth.

"The next rock you throw my way is going to end up in your fucking ass AJ."

I smile, drain my beer, and reply, "The fellow fishing downstream could use a little help."

My words hang in the air for a moment, and then I watch as pbr slowly swivels his head.

Our intrepid angler waves to him, smiles, and says, "Would you mind pulling my hook out of the log? If my line snaps, I have to waste this perfect moment re-tying, or worse yet, it may create a disturbance and spook a fish."

Without saying a word, pbr grabs the line, puts it between his teeth, and gives it a sharp tug.

SNAP!

Our intrepid angler reels in what is left. I watch him re-tie and consider a color change, then hear him say, "No, I'm sticking with this one."

Pbr then reels in his line and climbs back onto the shore.

He sits down on the bank next to me and says, "Let me see your flask."

I watch our intrepid angler make five or six casts, each targeting a different seam, or a different part of the run. He casts the line to the front of the run and it drifts over a spot already targeted another time.

Once again, we hear him talking to himself.

"I know this run. If the float drops here, it's a fish for sure!"

The float travels another two feet and vanishes beneath the surface. He swings the rod to set the hook and is immediately gifted with a flash of silver at the other end.

"It's on!" he screams.

The head shakes begin slow and after a few seconds, this fish realizes that he is in a fight for his life. He darts and jumps! After giving us a show he returns to the depths of the run and begins coiling in the murky water. Forward and back, he thrashes and spins to release the meal he now regrets having eaten. However, we are just as nervous.

Well, maybe one of us is.

Making certain to not allow this beast to push him into a log jam or snap the line on a screaming run, our intrepid angler checks his drag.

"Perfect" he says.

I watch as pbr takes another long swig from the flask. Then he hands it to me and jumps to his feet.

I take a swig as well, and then crack open another beer as pbr strides into the creek and starts beating the shit out of our intrepid angler.

Over the next 5 minutes our intrepid angler rolls and kicks until finally, the struggle slows and pbr coaxes him toward me with net in hand. As I slide the net over his head and push it below the surface, relief runs over me. It's done. Just one fight and my day is made. An opportunity, a challenge, an unrelenting desire; fulfilled.

Get out and feel the power. The serenity of the winter is breathtaking. Add the drowning of a jackass to your morning, and the addiction will fuel you time and time again.

User avatar
Lando
Posts: 4732
Joined: Mon Dec 10, 2007 1:01 am
Location: Out West

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by Lando » Fri Mar 04, 2016 2:33 am

#fishn'withfranzen
If my tombstone reads, "He never ate sushi." it won't be a lie, and I'll be OK with that.

~Average Joe

User avatar
flybug.pa.
Posts: 6940
Joined: Sun Nov 05, 2006 1:01 am
Location: Snitz Crick

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by flybug.pa. » Fri Mar 04, 2016 4:36 am

my addiction has fueled my strife . may 19 and its over. sometimes i fall like pbr, slipping away,hardly a splash.
If you end up with a boring miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.
- Frank Zappa

User avatar
austrotard
Posts: 9998
Joined: Thu Dec 06, 2012 2:24 am
Location: the austrocity exhibition
Contact:

Re: Typical Question on a local board

Post by austrotard » Fri Mar 04, 2016 5:07 am

austrotard wrote:
between you and I
Payment Method:
Instant Bank Transfer: mitchell Savings (Confirmed) x-2222 $7.04 AUD


dude...I thought we were mates.



disclaimer: I always knew this was going to bite me in the ass.
we'll always have buffalo, sweet josh.

-mtice

Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: FredA, GStyler, Junkin, Majestic-12 [Bot], Redchaser, The Wandering Blues and 190 guests