WTB: Time out of mind - (4/4)

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Redchaser
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (2/4)

Post by Redchaser » Fri Sep 30, 2016 7:59 am

Awesome so far, please continue
"... 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

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Lurgee
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (2/4)

Post by Lurgee » Fri Sep 30, 2016 9:06 am

I like how you roll....err tumble/fall.

When walking down scree in the dark or visiting Lando in Cody always remember to relax, duck and cover.
"Fried Chicken for President!" Trucha del Mar

"Sweet Jesus... untold hundreds of linear miles of pristine trout water within pissing distance, and you cocksuckers went fishing for carp?
What's next? A Wang Chung show? Ajax

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Redchaser
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (2/4)

Post by Redchaser » Fri Sep 30, 2016 10:19 am

Lurgee wrote:I like how you roll....err tumble/fall.

When walking down scree in the dark or visiting Lando in Cody always remember to relax, duck and cover.
Lurgee, you should come with training wheels.
"... 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

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Lurgee
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (2/4)

Post by Lurgee » Sat Oct 01, 2016 8:56 pm

Redchaser wrote:
Lurgee wrote:I like how you roll....err tumble/fall.

When walking down scree in the dark or visiting Lando in Cody always remember to relax, duck and cover.
Lurgee, you should come with training wheels.
Helmet and ibuprofen would be more appropriate
"Fried Chicken for President!" Trucha del Mar

"Sweet Jesus... untold hundreds of linear miles of pristine trout water within pissing distance, and you cocksuckers went fishing for carp?
What's next? A Wang Chung show? Ajax

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stillsteamin
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by stillsteamin » Tue Oct 11, 2016 10:17 pm

[report]

Montana.

Crossing back over the border the long-haired dude in front of us got hauled out of his car, cuffed, and pulled inside so I wasn’t surprised when the border patrol officer wasn’t in a great mood. Yoga pants was driving, and she does poorly when confronted by someone who is “mean” - this guy fit soundly into that box of crayons. I started wondering what it would feel like to be cuffed and slammed face first into the hood of a rental car as she stumbled through his questions about how much booze, ammunition, and dead hookers were in our trunk.

We had a few days before I would be making another airport run to trade for my lurker friends Bear and Travis, who would undoubtedly insist on fishing, so we did some other stuff.

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I've been traveling to Montana almost every summer since about the age of 12, and in that time I've been fortunate enough to see a lot of the state. Still, when I'm back home in the flat land and Montana crosses my mind, as she does regularly, the first thought is never about some grand vista in Glacier park, shoving off in a raft on the North Fork, nor is it a handful of a cutthroat appearing out of nowhere to eagerly swipe at a hopper pattern. My mind always starts at my aunt and uncle's cedar sided home with a red steel roof - the "Rollins Marriott" as bear calls it. It's just dawn, earlier than I'd normally be up without a purpose. The weather's broken for the first time in late summer or early fall. Heavy, dark clouds hang on the ridge to the southwest but the wind they rode in on passed yesterday, any remnants that may kick up later in the morning haven't yet spoiled the hundred thousand acre mirror stretching out to the south and east. My aunt's been up already, she's out somewhere walking their red siberian, Sam. Coffee is on, and her cinnamon donuts are warmed and wrapped on the counter. I find my mug in the cupboard, the one with the dancing bears, fill it with proper black Montanan coffee and make for the back deck, slamming the door behind me as I step outside.

First day back, the rodeo was in town.
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Mutton bustin' was one of the funniest things I've ever seen, little kids hanging onto a sheep for as long as they can. Of course the kid that won it was the son of the one of the bull riders. Kid jumped on with sneakers and rode the thing around the arena in a victory lap.
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The clown drove a bath tub through a flaming hoop.
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Like many other places in the west, some dude moved out there from somewhere farther east decades ago and decided a perfectly pristine lake filled with thriving populations of native species was useless to him and dumped in a few fish he liked to catch back home, in this case it was lake trout and whitefish. That subject always results in a lengthy and oft heated debate about things we cannot change, like girth vs length or a fubar political system. Love them or hate them at least the bastard children of a generation of insolent amateur biologists are typically tasty.
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My aunt's angel food cake with cream and huckleberry sauce. She has to fend off bears and local hill people with a stick for the privilege of climbing all over a mountain for a few cups of those sweet little bastards. One time I told my uncle that huckleberries taste like blueberries and I think he wanted to tell me to get out of his house.

Two days well spent, we made for the hills down Missouli-way.
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There were tricos but the big greasers in that creek don't lime small gay bugs.
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Yoga pants was having troubles casting into the wind. My brother was cleaning house. She said "maybe today isn't my day"

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and do better"

"hmphhh"

"...fine let me try again"
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All was well in stretchy black pants land.
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At cocktail hour we discussed plans for the second half of the second half. I was out of my knee immobilizer because it was annoying and had taken to limping around with one crutch but we still wouldn't be doing any of the hikes we had planned. More fishing would be fine.
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When my aunt says "picnic dinner" she means she's bringing half her kitchen to make fettuccine alfredo from scratch on the shore of a high mountain lake.
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After dinner the trout were eating stupid small flies. I'd almost rather not fish than fish anything smaller than 18ish but the spunky bastards were a maddening combination of tempting yet arrogantly specific.

Last day was my brother's 21st.
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My aunt was insistent we eat cake BEFORE going to the bar because she said we'd forget about it later. More likely she didn't want us remembering it later and rummaging around in her fridge at 2am. She knows what goes on.

When we were planning I'd asked him if he was sure he wouldn't rather be home with his friends for his birthday but he didn't hesitate to choose a crappy bar just northwest of nowhere, Montana for his first legal shot of well tequila. Head on straight, that one.
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On the way to the airport the next day we stopped at the local.
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Yoga pants fights fish like a dickhead. She latched onto Bear's gospel of "get em in or break em off" but takes it from funny to next-level frustrating. Every now and then you'll luck into a donkey of a cuttbow in the stream. I watched from a distance as she made a great cast that placed her foam bug neatly into a bubble seam beneath a grass overhang. Just where you'd expect came the slow, deliberate slurp of an experienced trout. It was what happened next that I'd never seen before.

Before I could manage anything more than a choked yell of excitement, whatever she'd hooked in the maw took off upstream. When I say "took off upstream" I mean like a bonefish takes off across a flat. No head shake, no pause as it figured out what the hell was going on. Just straight up, balls to the walls, line zipping, if-the-slack's-wrapped-around-the-reel-handle-you're-fucked, hot, nasty, bad-ass speed. That said, she did herself no favors by clamping down on the line and pointing the rod so directly at the fish it was either going to launch itself up out of the water like a dog hitting the end of its rope at full speed, or it was going to snap the 4x dismissively the way you swat away a cob web in a cellar - which of course it did.

I was mad so I yelled, and swore, until the ridiculousness and insignificance of what I was mad about dawned on me and I apologized. She said she was sorry and she didn't know it was going to do that and why did it do that. I said I wasn't sure because I wasn't and that it was fine because it was.

The past couple of weeks had been everything I could've possibly ever wanted it to be, and the ride to the airport was more depressing than usual.

Part 4 has more fish if you're into that type of thing.[/report]
I still like to explore new water, but these holes and drifts and slots are like the books and records I have carried around for decades. They are not only places of affection - they are the fabric of my life. - Doug Rose

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SLSS
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by SLSS » Wed Oct 12, 2016 12:24 am

No crying in baseball, no yelling in fishing. You want YP to keep fishing with you, be nice.

Good stuff. Great way to break in the little brother. :cool

More please.
It's lime the battles between sperm whales and giant squid half a mile below the surface of the ocean. Only it happens in the palm I your hand.- thndr

when I fall, I am still cold and wet, but much more stylishly dressed. as my hat disappears in the riffle- flybug.pa


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Lando
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by Lando » Wed Oct 12, 2016 8:40 am

You sound like a dick. Stop yelling at your girlfriend..........they are only stupid fish, and there will be plenty more. Something tells me that you outkicked your coverage with that one, so you should really try hard not to be a total douche to her.

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

~Average Joe

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stillsteamin
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by stillsteamin » Wed Oct 12, 2016 9:45 am

Lando wrote:You sound like a dick
Yes the inappropriateness was not lost on this asshole - hence the quick embarrassment and apology. She is most definitely better than me, which includes an ability to simply roll her eyes when I lose perspective and behave like a child.

I had to drag her out of the river at dusk after her tenth last cast and on the walk back to the car she said "wanna know the funniest part about losing that fish?"

"What's that"

"That was your last pink hopper"

:gun
I still like to explore new water, but these holes and drifts and slots are like the books and records I have carried around for decades. They are not only places of affection - they are the fabric of my life. - Doug Rose

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Redchaser
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by Redchaser » Wed Oct 12, 2016 3:55 pm

Lando wrote:Y. Something tells me that you outkicked your coverage with that one, so you should really try hard not to be a total douche to her.

Oh, and nice pictures.
He's definitely playing out of his depth, but he's really done a good job of brigning the goods between this report and his Mexican adventure.
"... 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

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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by Hogleg » Wed Oct 12, 2016 9:22 pm

Coleman stove is too clean. This is obviously a scam.
"girls with eating disorders will usually let you come in there in butt." -Jhnnythndr
"...my grandmother’s Tang always tasted like rusty water and dirty socks." - Average Joe
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by fatman » Wed Oct 12, 2016 9:37 pm

good. expecting better later.

Bulls tend to get all the press these days. Up in that cunt'ry they take their buckin' horses serious.

Poetry :smile
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SLSS
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Re: WTB: Time out of mind (3/4)

Post by SLSS » Wed Oct 12, 2016 9:57 pm

Lando wrote:You sound like a dick. Stop yelling at your girlfriend..........they are only stupid fish, and there will be plenty more. Something tells me that you outkicked your coverage with that one, so you should really try hard not to be a total douche to her.
Lando and me. We'd rather fish with wimmens than all'o you any day. :cool
It's lime the battles between sperm whales and giant squid half a mile below the surface of the ocean. Only it happens in the palm I your hand.- thndr

when I fall, I am still cold and wet, but much more stylishly dressed. as my hat disappears in the riffle- flybug.pa


"Sugar? No thank you Turkish, I'm sweet enough."

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