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By fishskibum
[quote=sarmulminnow post_id=694917 time=1565100964 user_id=9110]
Luau tease

spoiler alert, a girl showed up



Til she got on the river



Thanks for taking us along in the mothership!

dude rowing abidements one of me life skills

I like to employ mur so for non financial gains


YouTube link

and gunwale to gunwale girls always welcome

[report]not to sure bout the night before I think braincells got sacrificed

5 star vodka bramble and zuke boat apps

the inability to crank out 20 minute entrees or even put our order in the time a competent foodservice team should need for such and raw bugers not so much win

and i think there were mhlf's and hagen didnt git up for company that wasn't, that night

woke up to another gourgie day


the crew ran our shuttles and bucked camp so we could stick a few




moved the party to landos after they gots hungoverhagen on his jet

and well yeah there were sammies and a boat floating beverage choices


put in tailwater like with jose up front in the moship and saul and fidget god in the lando ship


endoured a bit of weather



cleared up and floated on


safty whistle blew and wando hand modeled hagens gloves


pretty sure lou dog told everyone to fuck off


and got in on the goddy mayhem




I think this one may have gotten into the safety stash


floated on down some sweet river miles





lips were ripped






comunication devices ended upon the river bottom

mur good god stuffs




floated by dwellings of og locals


not sure if he changes the name back to west camp and moves the luau to there what would happen but

i make it a point to attempt attendance where and whatevars it is

jose comtemplates redoing his back deck




floated on in the fading light to the takeout


and back to the casadelando

and moosh friends[IMG][/IMG]

where above average chez jose whipped up sum bluecheese burger pots pies things that were delicious and i dont even like blue cheese

and the bestest homemade midnight meatloaf ive ever had


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By Ajax
Average Joe wrote: Wed Aug 14, 2019 12:09 am Nobody reads this shit anyway.
I do, religiously. And I weep bitter tears.
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By BigTimber
I took but one picture:
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Lando kept us all very busy, "mend that shit here", "set the hook there", "unfuck your flies". Barely had time enuff to drink a beer or smoke a cigarette. There was also shuttles to run, wood to gather, beer and ice to buy....and watch melt, food to eat, camp to make and camp to clean, spey casts to cast, trailers to hook up, shits to take, playing frisbee and stick with Louie, horseshoes to play with Hagen, videos of Hagen's wife's tits, and so on. Really quite exhausting.
User avatar
By Average Joe
Timber's photo brings to mind something Hagen said during this trip.

"The first time I came out here I thought, 'How could anyone live in such a desolate place?' But now that I look around, it's actually not that bad."


Sorry for the delay.

I've had things to deal with.

Chauncey is dead.

My wife is getting a new pup that I'll need to sort out come Labor Day weekend.

And the Old Man cracked his spine while in my care, and is undergoing surgery while I type this.

Enough of that.

Back to our story.

The next day FSB and sarmulminnow went for an early morning float while Lando, Timber and I cleaned up camp.

Lando hooked Ian’s trailer up to the back of his truck, and then someone took Hagen shopping for a hairbrush and a bottle of “No More Tangles” hair spray.

I didn’t even know such a product existed.

Afterwards Lando, Hagen, Timber and I all met back at Lando’s place.

Hagen kept complaining that his hair had turned into dreadlocks, so he used the entire bottle of detangling spray and then took a shower.

We said our good-byes, and then Timber took Hagen to a bar and burger joint before dropping him off at the airport.

Lando and I dropped the trailer off at Ian’s place and interrupted him while he was trying to teach his wife how to cast a fly rod.

Upon seeing this I had but one thought:

“If there was ever someone who needed some Average Life Coach advice right about now…”

By the time we got back to camp, FSB and sarmulminnow had finished their float and were packing up their stuff, and once camp was more or less the way we found it, we went back to Lando’s place.
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Sheldon had some trouble with Louie’s dog door.
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That afternoon we put in at a spot popular with the rafters.
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Lando found a local to run our shuttle for $20 and a case of beer that Hagen left behind.

Everyone was feeling festive...
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… but I’ll admit that at this point, I was beat. That being said, FSB had agreed to row my sorry-ass down this river, and so even though all I really wanted to do was take a nap, I rigged up and told myself to fish as hard as I could.

The USS FishSkiBum, in all of her glory.
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Our mascot, Sheldon.

Must have been 4:20 when this photo was taken.
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One of FSB’s fly boxes.
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And the captain himself.

I love this guy.

(No homo.)

He’s one of the most caring, honest, and generous souls I’ve ever met.
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Before we got started Lando turned to me and said, “It’s going to rain. Take this jacket.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Take it.”


I soon discovered why this river is so popular with the rafters...
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… and once it started raining I was grateful that Lando had lent me his jacket.

With the rain came the bugs, and with the bugs came rising fish.

I cut off my nymph rig and tied on two dry flies, but by the time I finished smearing them with floatant, the rain had stopped.

And then the bugs stopped popping.

And the fish stopped rising.

I was tired, and so I said to myself, “Fuck it. I’m just going to fish this until I break it off.”

At some point someone blew a saf-tee whistle, so we all pulled over for a meeting.
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FSB tried to jump from his boat to the bank, and in doing so sacrificed his phone and eyeglasses to the river gods.

He rowed his ass off until well after dark wearing his prescription sunglasses, and then found his eyeglasses at the takeout.

Unfortunately he had no such luck with the phone.

He was bummed about it, but put it into perspective by saying, “I’d rather lose a phone than my dog.”

Then he grabbed his rod, swung a streamer, and stuck a fish.
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We floated some more and then stopped for another meeting, at which point Lando turned to me and said, “Are you happy with what you’ve got on, or do you want to catch fish?”

“I’m OK.”

He said, “Give me that rod,” re-rigged it, and made a cast.


Fish on.

He handed me the rod and said, “There should be one right there.”

I made the cast.


It’s not the arrow.

We continued our float, and I managed to hook a small brown not much bigger than this one.
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It was the only fish I landed that afternoon, but it made FSB happy, and that made me happy.

We passed a fair amount of desolation on our way to the take out.
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Afterwards we stopped for groceries.

And drive-in margaritas.
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That night I made blue cheese hamburger muffins, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and gravy.

The previous evening I’d discovered that sarmulminnow had worked for years as a chef, and I was somewhat concerned that he’d find my culinary skills lacking. If that was the case he proved himself to be a true gentleman and kept it to himself.

I hope to wrap this up by the end of the week.
User avatar
By mitch aka 2 fish
sorry to hear about maggio, mate.
if there's a dog heaven (which there isn't) he's driving someone around the bend (which he isn't).
hopefully this little bit of innernet horseshit makes you feel better (which it won't).

and stop making out youse all went away for like three fucking weeks or some shit.
User avatar
By fishskibum
ifin i didn't no's better youd swears I was a adhd laden stoner slob softy
but you know
give the mrs. a 8 second chaperoning the rainbow bridge journies is the shitiest part of the unconditional luvs dealio hug from hr puppystuffs and I
and next year ifin the new furkid wants to luau well take 3 weeks and drive out to gits ya
and 3 months to do the tr
User avatar
By Lando
User avatar
By fishskibum
heres a few k words worth
i forgets how the thc ladened drivein smoothies tied the holes culinary experiance togather
i hopes her tootsies better


User avatar
By Average Joe
The next morning sarluminnow noticed that his dog was suffering from a foot injury, so he packed up his belongings and we bid him farewell and safe travels.

Lando had talked about doing a walk and wade all week, and now that there were only three of us left it seemed an opportune time to make the attempt.

Unfortunately I only had one wading boot in my possession, having lost the other back in June.

More info about that here for those who care. ... 3&start=48

We led FSB to the local Verizon store so he could purchase a new phone and then headed to the shop.

We still had a cooler full of cheap beer, so we loaded up the shop fridge with all of the Natty Light, Coors Light, and Bud tall boys that Hagen somehow didn’t drink.

After that I approached the proprietor and said, “I need some felt -bottomed wet wading boots. Size ten.”

“We don’t carry felt.”

“OK. What do you recommend?”

Lando then interjected with, “Well, since you seem to have trouble tying your shoelaces, I’d recommend these.”
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“Fine. I’ll take them.”

The proprietor then screwed a bunch of bling into the soles and said, “Trust me. These are better than felt.”
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FSB joined us at the shop, and we decided to go in search of the roller that had disengaged from Lando's trailer earlier in the trip.
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Along the way we stopped at this lake and had meatloaf sandwiches while Sheldon and Louie did some swimming, and then continued on our journey.
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Afterwards Lando gave FSB directions to a good spot where he could throw streamers while we went hunting for the roller.

The roller wasn’t where Lando thought he’d lost it, but he found it just the same.
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We caught up with FSB and then despaired at the desolation surrounding us while we waited for Heero.
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Heero never showed.

FSB really wanted to spend another day with us but he had other commitments, so we caravanned to a spot near the Montana border where even I could catch a fish if I so desired.
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Lando said, “We need to see if those new boots work,” so he took me to a river full of mossy rocks and I waded in.

I didn’t fall down, which is good, but I also contaminated the boots with a communicable fish disease.

Not so good.

FSB knew better than to get wet.
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After a bit of casting practice we said goodbye to FSB and Sheldon and made a promise to see them again sooner rather than later.

Once we were in the truck I said to Lando, “It’s getting late, so I can either join you on a walk and wade, or I can make pizza.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Make pizza.”

We headed back to town and stopped at a grocery store.

I still had the new boots on when I entered the store, and as I walked the aisles the noise of the studs making contact with the floor made it sound like a high-heeled hooker was pushing the cart.

We got back to the house, Ian came over, margaritas were made, and that night we dined on Thai chicken pizza, Chicago deep dish, and Ian's favorite dessert: angel-pussy-drippings-something-or-other.
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I had a (*) Caesar salad in the fridge, but nobody wanted it.

The next morning I packed up my shit and then Lando and I had some breakfast and went to the shop.

The shop was packed.

Mostly with customers, but also with a couple of characters sprawled on the couch enjoying Natty Lights for breakfast.

Lando then took me to the airport, and we vowed to do it again next year.

Side Note From Debbie Downer:

Before I left for the luau my wife’s dog stopped eating.

Never a good sign.

My wife brought him to the local animal hospital while I was away.

The diagnosis was cancer, and he was suffering.

I arrived home Tuesday evening, and the next day we took the dog back to the animal hospital and paid a vet to kill him.

He had a good life - better than most of the people on this planet - and that's really the best I can do for any animal I take into my home.

I’ll end this with some random photos of Louie and Hagen.
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Many thanks to Lando for hosting, and to FSB for rowing, and to Louie for playing Frisbee with me, and to Sheldon for not breaking my shit, and to Hagen for being Hagen and picking up the tab just about every place we went.

If Lando agrees to host this again next year, do your best to make it out.

Cheers boys.
User avatar
By fatman
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By Lando
Next year’s dates are:

July 23-26th.

Get your tickets early and they are a lot cheaper.

Oh, and Hagen wants to play “What’s Whiter??”

His ass or Joe’s legs.
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RIP Croaker.

Damn. Sip to be poured.

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