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By Brookwookie
Originally posted by fyshnutz:n I could call my home base the section from Swan Creek to the Big Sky turn off, more often the lower part because I'm usually to impatient to drive any further.
I'd just like to take this opportunity to say that I hate you Montana guys with every fiber of my small-eastern-creek-fishing soul. OK, not really (as far as you know).To anyone who's passing through central NY for the holidays: I've got a decent stretch of freestone water here that's open all year, and I'll be happy to show you around. Bring longjohns and your own damn streamers, and make sure you get a license, because poaching sucks worse than The Drake.
I kinduv only told half the story. The reason I'm so pissed is due in no small part to my own experiences with the Jones ranch security, but more so with the Summit Co. Sherrifs dept. It all happened back in august. I wanted tpo get one more float down the lower Blue with a couple of buddies before the flows petered out and the floating season ended. As it was we were taking a calculated risk going downriver that day. If I recall the flow was somewhere around 400 cfs which is right around the minnimum flow at which you can expect to clear those weirs. Having an inflatable raft that floats pretty high and manuevers well I thought nothing of it. All was fine and dandy till we reached the second weir on the property. I could be wrong but it looked as if the rocks on this particular weir had been recently been rearanged to present a more substantial obstacle. I back paddled for awhile to examine my line and decided that no matter what I was in for some contact with the rocks. One rock in particular worried me because it came to a sharp point right at the point where theres no going back. I tried to hold as far left and away from that rock as possible, but to no avail. I'll never forget that sound as the rock tore the right side of my boat and the air rushed out. I wasn't quite sunk, having three air chambers down each side, only one of which was torn. We did have to take out asap and repair the outer bladder to go on. I knew that taking out on the jones ranch would invite trouble but had no choice as the next four miles or so are "their" river. To make a long story short I picked a spot where we wouldn't likely be spotted, took out, repaired the gaping hole in record time and went about my way. Incidently, the day wasn't all bad as after the calamity I hooked and landed a 26 inch bow (on the jones property I might add!). The real fun began at the takeout though, as we were met by a representative of jones security and to summit co sherrifs. Having seen the situation unfold from about a quarter mile upriver I grabbed my cell and called my wife (she's an attorney, and I half expected to need bail that night) With no choice but to face the music I beached the raft and approached the cops to ask if anything was wrong. Before the sherrifs deputies could respond the jones guy fingered me and said "thats the guy, go ahead and cite him." This got me pissed and I asked one of the deputies somewhat indignatley "so you guys work for the joneses now too?", and just then I remembered that the takeout lies within Grand county, not Summit. Well being the smartass that I proceded to give a sermon that would have done the Rev Jesse Jackson proud. If i remember right I promised them that I'd have them charged with official misconduct if they dared write me up for tresspassing, that my wife would have both their badges and balls on a silver platter, and that we'd be dining at judge Ruckreigle's that evening and that I'd be sure to discuss this matter as well as the troubling lack of respect to jurisdiction, over goose live pate' and a fine Rioja. The last part was total bullshit, but I was on a roll, and the judge does adore my wife (as do most male judges in the state, not just because she's a fine attorney, but also it's not everyday they get to have a 6 foot tall blonde with double d's lean over their bench to argue the finer points of the law.) Well this kinda put them off balance for a minute. They had a group huddle, and thenm turned to leave. Just as the were about to drive off and I was about to proclaim my superiority over all that I survey, one of the Sherrifs turned and said "see you an the put in"n Shit!!!! Now this was a real problem. The put in lies well within the borders of Summit Co, and I had no choice but to go there as it was my brand new truck parked at the put in. To complicate the matter there's a gate on the road leading to the put in below the dam that is closed at seven every night, and any vehicles left there past seven are towed and impounded. It was just about six o clock by now so we didn't have much time for covert tactics and stealth maneuvers, and besides it's the only road in or out, so things were looking pretty grim. By the time we got there the cop was waiting for us, and had my summons all filled out. Without gloating he handed me my ticket and we went our seperate ways. I got the ticket dismissed because the cop failed to show for court, which was a shame because I came to court loaded for bear with 200 years worth of legal precedents in hand. I guess what really rubbs me most is the entire notion that some of these landowners posess that they can own a river. I wonder if the people who own property alond the Mississippi river think of it as "their" river or if beachfront property owners think of it as "their" beach or for that matter "their" ocean. It seems to me one must posess a huge ego to view the world in that respect.
By coolconman
fyshnutz,I can't say for sure as to the location of this land, or for that matter the accuracy of the statement. For all I know it's just an urban legend started by landowners to discourage sneaky, fence crossing fishermen as myself. I have a couple friends who were edumacated at MSU who swear its true and that they know people who have been cited using photographic evidence. I never fished the gallatin enough for it to worry me too much. Sorry for the fear-mongering... :p
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By fallen513

Need an update.
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By fallen513

Well find something interesting and bring it to the top, eh.
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blow all of it in place. let me know.
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By Bruiser
Update: Paul Tudor Jones is still a P-Rick
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By Bobwhite
Bruiser wrote:Update: Paul Tudor Jones is still a P-Rick
Hell, I'd be a prick too if my mommy and daddy gave me a middle name like "Tudor".

Poor little kid was probably picked-on and teased unmercifully.


That shit will mess you up!
Last edited by Bobwhite on Sun Nov 30, 2014 6:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Bruiser wrote:Update: Paul Tudor Jones is still a P-Rick
I object to this abomination of my name. … like it didn't hear in about 6,578,614 times in junior high.
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By Bruiser
Whoops sorry SC-Rick

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