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By Deadwestern
The homestretch apparently has a shit load of big browns.
Guy doesn't buy that.
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Perfectly placed cast
Three strips before a short pause
Stripset and the fight
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As the tubers increased so did our stops.
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Some of the best parts of this trip began and ended at the tap room. The rest of the evening I watched the rain and thought of all my shit getting soaked back at the camp sight. It will be up to Guy to fill in the rest of the evening but I can tell you there was plenty of shit talking, cornhole, and beer pong. None of which am I any good at.
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By Deadwestern
Hungover. Wet. Hungry.

Sitting by the morning fire we realize that no one has any cook wear. Guys left on the counter at Frannys, T.X.s back home, Bammaboys left with his fly boxes. V Wake after cracking a beer "No problem I have mine... over...shit" Eggs, bacon, Sausage would be lost with out a bit of ingenuity.
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For the next few hours ever third conversation was about how we should head to the river as time is fleeting.
We end up at the river three hours before we are planning on heading home, and
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A few fish pulled from here and there but nothing to keep us longer than we had planned. We headed back to the truck for a beer and to pack up, but for what ever reason three of us decided to stay a bit longer and we were are glad we did.
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Because we stayed a bit later than expected we ate dinner on the road.
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By ncguy

I posted Todd Snider's story of K.K. Rider because this Bake was all about being in the right place at the right time, or depending on your world view, being in the wrong place at absolutely the wrong time. I tried briefly to come up with a name for this bake. Several that quicly came to mind were (in no particular order)[i]Where's Kyle Bake 2017[/i],[i]Vaku's Still Paying For His Kitchen[/i], [i]Bullship's and Socks Beach Trip[/i],and[i] WNC It's In My Other Streamer Box 2017 Bake[/i].After careful consideration I think I'll go with [b][i][color=#FFFFFF]You Get What You Need WNC 2017 Bake.[/color][/i][/b]

So my oldest was making the three hour drive to my house Friday night. The plan was for him to meet me at 6:15, when I should be arriving home from work. Unfortunately he ran into terrible traffic and arrived late. I of course wasn't even packed yet. He waited patiently for me to get my shit together (literally). After about an hour we hooked the trailer up and were walking to our vehicles when my wife pulled into the driveway.She was so thankful that we had waited to leave until she arrived back from her out of town trip with sisters. We told her it was a little bit of an imposition but we couldn't leave without telling her goodbye and that we loved her. [i]You Get What You Need #1.[/i] Ten minutes on the road I get a call from my wife. She's laughing saying I know you weren't waiting for me, the house was locked. [i]You Get What You Need #2.[/i] In this case a wife who knows my shenanigans, but loves me anyway.

We had about two hours ahead of us and during that time we ran into that '45 mph on the Interstate' rain about four times.
We finally arrived uneventfully. [i]You Get What You Need #3.[/i] My trailer lights were not working and our late departure and torrential rains meant it was dark most of the trip. No law enforcement entanglements. Patrick and I met everyone at the taproom which graciously stayed open late to accommodate us. Cora poured us beers and feigned interest in all manner of Drake stories, while we stratergized.
After numerous phone calls and checking water guages it appeared all the floatable water within a 90 minute radius was blown out. After more beers and further discussion, it was decided our only hope would be to go up high,fishing for brookies on Saturday. Then we had to leave, Bamaboy was acting like a dickhead. Excuse the SOBF quality of the picture. My fancy camera may have been set on the [i]face[/i], or the [i]flower[/i], instead of the [i]running stickman[/i] (did I mention Vaku wasn't there).Oh wait, I was using my phone. Did I mention we drank some beers?
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By ncguy
Saturday morning breaks and Patrick and I awake dry. You Get What You Need.Which in this case was a roof over our head.Thank you Chris and Jess! The forecast had been calling for rain all weekend, but the Sun was shining at 7:00 am. I get up cook some bacon and eggs and watch Waylon eat them. Every third bite he'd give a bite to the god.We eat and head to the shop to meet the group. On the way Patrick pulls over in front of me.
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With sunshine and a little good karma I feel A new lease on our weekend. With a little sleep and less inebriated we meet and of course our well laid plans from last night are questioned. More stratergizing ensues.
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You'd think sobriety would make it quicker to get on the water.You'd be wrong.
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Not everyone was enjoying themselves.The look of disgust and impatience. He wasn't even going.
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By ncguy
The consensus is that the water at our feet is perfect for floating. High enough to float, just dirty enough to throw streamers. Stories of big browns caught on Rapalas give us new hope that the weekend won't be a wash.
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We pounded the banks for an hour or so and saw nothing but tubers and kayakers. And this guy.
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We kept pounding with multiple fly changes and no change in results.
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The good news is the rain is holding off, the bad news I'm getting hot, not pallet fire hot but sweating a little. You Get What You Need.
A slight rain comes, not even enough to soak us.
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I may have broken the Four Roses Single Barrel out due to boredom. Again did I mention Vaku was not there, we didn't have cocktails. We were not civilised. We drank pulls straight from the bottle and it was good. Still no fish.
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The fly changes increase as do the safety meetings. We stratergize more. We are convinced Waderfunk has duped us to keep us away from his precious brookie water. We realize if we push through we will have time to go fish the spec water. We take a pull and discuss for another hour.
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What was that sound! A big brown slashing baitfish?
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It quickly becomes obvious that is the sound of a three hundred pound senior citizen, rolling out of a sit on top kayak, flailing in an ankle deep riffle, sounding like he is drowning. A little farther down stream there is a breeze that feels fabulous blowing through my hair. It takes me a second to realize I should not be feeling the breeze in my hair because I started the day wearing my favorite hat. I don't know when I lost my hat, I suspect it may have snuck away because I was neither living clean or good. We arrive at the take out safely. I am not allowed to drive shuttle.
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By ncguy
You Get What You Need. We headed back to the shop. While we are ordering our wood fire pizza from the food truck the bottom drops out.
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A quick PSA, if your local fly shop doesn't have taproom, regular food trucks and trout skin corn hole boards, you're behind the eight ball. Tell them they are playing catch up. So dinner was eaten and cornhole was played.
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Until it couldn't be.
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When it got too dark to see they started throwing ping pong balls.
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Probably some legality about playing in the taproom so water pong it was.
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Some where more serious than others
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Of course I missed the money shot.
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We retired to the campfire, with no more rain. You Get What You Need.
The campfire, the most important part of any bake. A place where we keep the stories of the Drake alive and learn who the people are, that we know through the interwebs.
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By vaku
I do truly regret not being there with the patagucci portable cocktail bar and civilized glassware. It is the true measure of a float when you can have a proper cocktail with proper ice in a proper glass with proper friends. But you are right the kitchen is still being paid for and i've avoided adding to that debt. Looks like a good time.

Good onya Patrick for saving the turtle. brought a smile to my face.

looks like a good time was had with some of my favorite people.
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By ncguy
I awake with a minimal hangover Sunday morning, thanks to Patrick making me pound water before I retired.
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Deadwestern says he slept in a puddle, not of his own making, but felt good (as long as he didn't move).
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Our lack of cooking utensils has been reported but we made due."That's not a knife."
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"This is a knife!"
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Pretty sure we would have scored a 7% on our sanitation grade but breakfast was great.
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Hit some beautiful water.
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Decided to head out
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Bamaboy gifted me one of CE's stickers
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Hit the food truck at the shop
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Headed home
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Thanks to Socks and Tx for pulling it together and Headwaters Outfitters and Forks of the River Taproom for the wonderful hospitality, shirts and stickers. We left as happy as a pig in a taproom.
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