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By kish
Eph has a tiny head. Or a huge hat.
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By Average Joe
My body has recently started to deteriorate at a noticeable rate.

I never fished much when I was healthy, but now I fish even less.

I caught up with eph, and together we made our way upriver.

Rather than blind cast to the point where I’d be unable to hold a fork at dinner, I looked for heads and limited my casts to the most promising spots.

I rigged up with a single dry fly, and eph was always kind enough to give me first shot at anything that looked promising.

Eph is a great angler and a wonderful human being, and we had a fabulous day together.

I’d tried to reach Mitch’s Uncle on the radio when we parked at the bluff, and I continued my efforts as we made our way upstream, but there was no response.

I was about to give up when I heard the the following words crackle over the speaker.

“Sorry! I forgot to turn on the radio!”

“Yeah, it doesn’t work so well if it’s not turned on.”

When the four of us met up on the road at the end of the afternoon, Mitch’s Uncle turned to me and said, “Do you have any pizza?”

“No, it’s in the cooler back at camp.”

“I could really go for some pizza.”

“I’m sure you could. My apologies, Your Worship, for not anticipating your needs.”

“So when are we going to have that pizza anyway?”

“Not tonight. Bruiser is cooking the evening meal, and I’m sure he has plenty of food.”

When we got back to camp, Bruiser started making dinner: pasta in a butter garlic sauce with fresh tomatoes, fried meatballs, and steamed broccoli.

While he worked on that, Mitch’s Uncle asked if there was any salad.

“There’s some leftover Caesar salad from last night,” I said.

“Is it wilted?”

“Well, it’s been languishing in a tepid, nearly ice-less cooler for nearly twenty-four hours now, so my guess is…. yes.”

“I won’t eat it if it’s wilted.”

“Nor would I expect you to, Your Highness.”

I turned to eph and Bruiser and asked, “Do either of you want this wilted, day-old, salmonella-infested Caesar salad?”

There were no takers, so we dumped it.

Mitch’s Uncle then asked, “Does anyone have a knife?”

This question truly caught me off guard, because I don’t know anyone who goes camping without a fucking knife. I’d brought five for this trip alone.

“I’ve three knives on me, a kitchen knife over on the picnic table, and a machete by the firewood. What do you need?”

“Can you cut these limes for me so I can squeeze them into my rum and coke?”

“My goal is to serve, Your Grace.”

Bruiser’s dinner was excellent, and he and Mitch’s Uncle turned in soon after the dishes were done.

Eph and I stayed up and waited for stratabass.

He’d heard we were meeting in Thredbo and decided to fly to the nearest airport, rent a car, drive for five hours, and spend a couple of days with us.

He arrived very, very late, and we ended up raiding the cooler for a post-midnight buffet of guacamole, chips, leftover tri tip, and pizza.

By the time we turned in it was nearly dawn.

We awoke to find this.

(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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Eph said, “That was kind of them, but I think I can do better.”

(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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After breakfast the three of us climbed into eph’s Jeep and headed to the river.

The wind was exceptionally fierce, so I soon headed back to the Jeep and spent the next several hours admiring the scenery.

Bruiser and Mitch’s Uncle found me in the Jeep later in the afternoon, and after eph and stratabass returned from fishing we all made our way back to camp.

I had another tri tip in the cooler, along with some leftover pico, guacamole, and meat and beans, so that’s what we had for dinner.
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Mitch’s Uncle couldn’t wait for the tri tip to cook and decided to make a meal out of the meat and beans and the last of the guacamole….
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… but stratabass is a patient man, and he knows how to make a sandwich.
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The next morning Bruiser and Mitch’s Uncle hit the river early and then returned to camp, packed up, and headed home.

After they left, eph and stratabass jumped in the Jeep and headed toward the river.

I needed a camp day, so after they left I settled into my foldy-chair and killed the last of the beer.

They returned a few hours later, and then stratabass headed back to the airport.

Eph and I gathered some wood for the evening fire and had pan fried pizza for dinner.

(Photo credit SOBF.)
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The next morning we packed up and headed back to eph’s place.

The Jeep started making a horrible racket during the drive home.

When we got back to the house, eph took it into the shop and had his wife follow him.

About an hour later he returned with the verdict: the engine had thrown a rod, and would need to be replaced. It was a shitty way to end the trip.

I know that some of you like to look at pictures of fish.

I rarely take such photos (for obvious reasons), but ephemeral and Mitch’s Uncle managed to get some really nice shots.

(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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(Photo credit Mitch’s Uncle.)
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(Photo credit Mitch’s Uncle.)
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(Photo credit Mitch’s Uncle.)
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(Photo credit Mitch’s Uncle.)
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(Photo credit Mitch’s Uncle.)
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(Photo credit Mitch’s Uncle.)
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Roo fight!
(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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Until next time.
(Photo credit ephemeral.)
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User avatar
By austrotard
[report]mtice went to thredbo.

he got there very late as he couldn't work out what state he was in.

canberra is not in nsw. satnav said yeah nah.

ate some edibles. and drove 6hrs for a 3hr drive. and didn't get lost.

drank some shit whisky beginning with a. auchesshit or some shit.

stayed in a shitty germanesque hotel.

saw some roos for reals.

caught some fish.

caught some rainbows.

caught some browns.
[attachment=10]thredbo cunts.jpeg[/attachment]

headed home.

wanks off a lot.
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By Lando
Mitch and Willi are peas in a pod.

(except Willi catches fish)
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By Redchaser
How many times did Mitch's Uncle say "Dere's One" just before catching some behemoth fish? He's accustomed to that.
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By Da Ax
That was awesome. Although, somehow I feel as if there are some pictures just not posted...
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