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By Average Joe
Several months ago ironman decided to host a fishing trip on his home waters in upstate New York, and I was fortunate enough to receive an invitation.

The gathering was scheduled for the fourth week of May, and as instructed I spent some indoor-time during the winter months tying up a bunch of big March Browns.

The week before my flight I informed ironman that I might have to cancel, but things worked out for the best and I was able to make the trip.

I crawled out of bed at 2:30 AM the morning of my departure, and roughly twelve hours later ironman picked me up on the other side of the continent.

After loading my luggage into his car, he handed me a cigar and a large tumbler filled with brown water and ice. Then he smiled and said, "Welcome to New York!"

Roughly four hours later we stopped and picked up a pizza, and minutes after that we joined pxatim at ironman’s place on the river.

A late night of drinking and catching up followed before we all eventually turned in.

The next day I was the last one to wake.

Pxatim was already busy making bacon-wrapped pheasant breasts topped with some Kentucky BBQ sauce BM sent up.
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While pxatim tended the grill, ironman put together some homemade pastrami and cheese sandwiches.
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D-nymph and Porno Mike’s brother rolled in, and that afternoon we launched the boats.
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Ironman wasn’t happy with the flows or the weather - the river was up, rain and the subsequent runoff had hurt the clarity of the water, and more rain was on the way - yet he was justly rewarded after following a long cast with a perfect drift.
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When we got back to camp, Sakonnet greeted us with a cooler full of New England lobsters and clams.
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We followed that meal with yet another late night of drinking.

The next morning D-nymph and Porno Mike’s brother cooked up an excellent breakfast/brunch, and afterwards we hit the river.

Ironman went out with Porno Mike’s brother and D-nymph in D-nymph’s fancy new boat, and I went out with pxatim and Sakonnet in ironman’s boat.
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Sakonnet: ”What are you fishing?”

Jose: “March Brown.”

Sakonnet: ”You’d probably have more luck fishing streamers.”

Jose: “I didn’t bring any streamers.”

Sakonnet: ”Do you want one?”

Jose: “No.”

Sakonnet: ”Why not?”

Jose: “Because I didn’t bring a streamer rod.”

Sakonnet: ”Well then try fishing an olive.”

Jose: “I didn’t bring any olives.”

Sakonnet: ”Do you want one?”

Jose: “No.”

Sakonnet: ”Why not?”

Jose: “Because I won’t be able to see it.”

Sakonnet: ”I see some Hendricksons out there. Do you want a Hendrickson?”

Jose: “Listen. I was told that all I’d need are March Browns, a dry fly rod, and a floating line. That’s all I brought, and that’s all I intend to fish.”

Sakonnet: ”But I’ve got extra gear: rods, reels, lines, flies… just tell me what you need.”

Jose: “What I need right about now is a drink (at which point pxatim reflexively reached into the cooler and handed me a cold one) and for you to stop yammering on about how I should fish.”

Sakonnet spent the next couple of hours catching trout and muttering to himself while I enjoyed the peace and serenity that comes with sitting in the back of the boat.

I’d just fired up a cigar when Sakonnet caught something that wasn’t a trout, and as he got it closer to the boat I heard him say, ”What is that? Is that a bass?”

He followed that up with, “That’s a fucking walleye!”
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Not long afterwards he caught another one. Both were dispatched and then placed into ironman’s cooler.

I’d brought a pair of two-way radios, and before the float I’d given one to Porno Mike’s brother so that we could stay in touch during the day.

Porno Mike’s brother: “Radios! Cool! We should have code names, so that we can protect our true identities. I’m going to go with Rambo. What do you want yours to be?”

Jose: “Tiberius.”

After catching the walleye, I got on the radio and called out to Porno Mike’s brother.

Jose: “Sakonnet just boated two walleye.”

Porno Mike’s brother: “Rambo here. Copy that Tiberius.”

Ironman, yelling in background: "Give me that fucking radio.”

Ironman: “Make sure you keep those fish on a stringer outside the boat. I don't want any fucking fish in my cooler or fish blood on my boat. Got it?”

I sat there, holding the radio, and watched as Sakonnet and pxatim shrugged in unison.

Jose: “Uh... you’re breaking up... batteries must be low... see you at the takeout.”
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Later that week, pxatim transformed the dead walleye into delicious fish tacos.
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RockyMtHigh gave up some of his vacation time and spent several hours on the road in order to join us for a day. He was even kind enough to bring me a cooler full of beer. The rivers were blown, so he never got a chance to fish. Instead we spent the day sitting on the porch.
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The remainder of the week was a mix of good weather, bad weather, muddy water, and not-so muddy water, accompanied by one incredible meal after another, and some of the best company on earth.
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The March Browns I tied didn't catch shit, but I had a fabulous time.

Big thanks to ironman for hosting, and to all the exceptional cooks.
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By fatman
looks like a fine gathering
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By Average Joe
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User avatar
By LA Fly Guy
March browns in May? Sounds like you calendar needs to be re-calibrated.

Fine job Joe, Fine job.
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By Lando
I see you found your camera.....
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By pbrstreetgang
Jon wrote: Fri Jun 01, 2018 9:03 am You had me at dead walleye tacos.
yeah, this

trout are ghey
By chadroc
strong eats. ironman knows his meat. very nice, thank you.
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By Kfoxwyo
Mighty Nice. And yes a chainsaw and flip flops....
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