Well, since this general area is about anything at all, I was wondering if there were any fishermen in this forum? If so, maybe there can be some fishing stories I hope! There are all kinds of stories that can be told such as the one that got away, or the biggest fish you caught, what you like about it, if you smoke your pipe, etc. Maybe you have a pipe or a blend that you bring fishing with you.
I suppose I should start. As a teenager my father and I would salmon fish in the fall. After two seasons of spending long hours in the cold casting spoons and getting skunked, I gave up. Years later I got the bug to salmon fish again one season, and I went every chance I got. There was one dam I fished that had a narrow spot behind a rail that some of us would cram into and look at all the salmon and large brown trout that were hardly biting. 50 percent of the time the fish were snagged, and then released. It was in the newspaper how bad the season was. I only brought home one big trout, and that was given to me by one of my buddies. I was thinking that my wife thought I was just a crappy outdoorsman.
So after getting skunked day after day, I went gung ho when it was pouring all day. There was only one other guy fishing with me, and another guy that didn't want to get soaked who sat in his car and watched us fish. He commended our spirits, and left us with all his bait, as he had given up. It got to the point that my fingers didn't want to move, I was soaked from head to toe, and all my gear was getting snagged on the rocks. I called it quits, threw my clothes in the dryer, and warmed up. Something inside me just didn't want to give up. I had spotted some chinook hanging out a few days before in the Jordan river where the water was clear and shallow. I was near the place my grandparents had a farm on a hill when I was growing up, and it was always a special place to me. I said screw it, and went back out in the rain to try the river. The rain this time was on and off, and not as heavy as earlier. When I got there I noticed the one chinook hanging out in the same area. I went at him for a few hours. Not being a fly fisherman, I had tried a small spoon because the water was so shallow and clear.
It was starting to get dark when he either bit, or I fowl hooked him. Nonetheless, I had him on. He had to be at least 15 pounds, and I held on to him in one spot for about ten minutes or more in attempt to tire him out. My heart was beating fast. It was my big moment, and my reputation with my wife was at stake. He started to take a little drag and pulled off to the side of the river tangling my line on a log. He was lost. My heart sank. I was a beaten dog.
Now speaking of dogs I have a slightly aggressive little guy who is an outdoorsman himself. For years he had been chasing squirrels with no success. That day was his day. He caught and killed a squirrel. My in-laws were there, and my wife kept going on about the squirrel. I tried to get people interested in the story, but they lost interest as soon as they saw there was no fish, and called me nuts for fishing 8 hours that day in the rain. On went my wife about the squirrel, proud of our little guy. I said something rude that I shouldn't have in front of anyone, slightly losing my temper, and my wife said, "I cannot believe you are jealous of a dog!" Well, I was, and she didn't understand anymore than she understands why a man just can't have enough knives or tobacco. :crying:
I suppose I should start. As a teenager my father and I would salmon fish in the fall. After two seasons of spending long hours in the cold casting spoons and getting skunked, I gave up. Years later I got the bug to salmon fish again one season, and I went every chance I got. There was one dam I fished that had a narrow spot behind a rail that some of us would cram into and look at all the salmon and large brown trout that were hardly biting. 50 percent of the time the fish were snagged, and then released. It was in the newspaper how bad the season was. I only brought home one big trout, and that was given to me by one of my buddies. I was thinking that my wife thought I was just a crappy outdoorsman.
So after getting skunked day after day, I went gung ho when it was pouring all day. There was only one other guy fishing with me, and another guy that didn't want to get soaked who sat in his car and watched us fish. He commended our spirits, and left us with all his bait, as he had given up. It got to the point that my fingers didn't want to move, I was soaked from head to toe, and all my gear was getting snagged on the rocks. I called it quits, threw my clothes in the dryer, and warmed up. Something inside me just didn't want to give up. I had spotted some chinook hanging out a few days before in the Jordan river where the water was clear and shallow. I was near the place my grandparents had a farm on a hill when I was growing up, and it was always a special place to me. I said screw it, and went back out in the rain to try the river. The rain this time was on and off, and not as heavy as earlier. When I got there I noticed the one chinook hanging out in the same area. I went at him for a few hours. Not being a fly fisherman, I had tried a small spoon because the water was so shallow and clear.
It was starting to get dark when he either bit, or I fowl hooked him. Nonetheless, I had him on. He had to be at least 15 pounds, and I held on to him in one spot for about ten minutes or more in attempt to tire him out. My heart was beating fast. It was my big moment, and my reputation with my wife was at stake. He started to take a little drag and pulled off to the side of the river tangling my line on a log. He was lost. My heart sank. I was a beaten dog.
Now speaking of dogs I have a slightly aggressive little guy who is an outdoorsman himself. For years he had been chasing squirrels with no success. That day was his day. He caught and killed a squirrel. My in-laws were there, and my wife kept going on about the squirrel. I tried to get people interested in the story, but they lost interest as soon as they saw there was no fish, and called me nuts for fishing 8 hours that day in the rain. On went my wife about the squirrel, proud of our little guy. I said something rude that I shouldn't have in front of anyone, slightly losing my temper, and my wife said, "I cannot believe you are jealous of a dog!" Well, I was, and she didn't understand anymore than she understands why a man just can't have enough knives or tobacco. :crying: