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Started by Sedition and Pockets, July 24, 2021, 01:00:18 AM
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I know you some of you stubborn fuckers can do the same thing over and over and still find the time to love it, but I get bored a little too easy, and somewhere along the way, I just got bored of trout. It's been nearly a year since I left the house looking for one, but a new comrade had expressed interest in learning to fly fish, and something something absence and fonder growing hearts or some such bullshit. A few days later, a wild Saffa, returning from a Western Odyssey, darkened my door. Ya girl is kinda results oriented, so sorry in advance for the shitty and sparse B-roll.
The new comrade is gonna have a lot of work to do, but he's got a good foundation. I took him out on a old standby. He obviously spent some time in Fungoland learning to cast a little, because he was miles ahead of where I was when I started. He seems to get line handling and how to get a clean drift. Hooksets are gonna take some work. He had at least a dozen solid eats on dries and never even pricked a fish. Such is life. I didn't fish a ton, but I connected on a few with hoppers and inch worm droppers.
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Got a call from the Saffa on Saturday morning, looking for a place to crash for the night. Trannies gotta stick together, so I told him, "Pull in, bru." The next morning, we set out to find some native punes. Unfortunately piss poor water levels in the intended drainages made it clear this was Mission: Unpossible. We called an audible and headed for a little undesignated stretch that always has good flows. Success was attained.
(There are no fish here)
Foreigners are a funny lot sometimes, and Bray Piece insisted on dry or die (straight, no dropper), but he did some damage.
(Look who joined the Fiberglass Mafia)
Sometimes, you find a real one, and it reminds you why you do this.
Nice brown you got there.
Nice fish and all that, but particularly enjoyed your music selection. 👍. Took me back about 45 yrs to the first time I heard that tune during some labor strife in an earlier life.
Thanks for no saffa mug pics.
Nice brown trout
Commie shit ate up my morning. Didn't make it to my chosen 'line until 11, with the rain already pelting down. BTFO by 11:45. Popped one and then bounced.
Hung up in a sweeper, I found incontrovertible proof that fucking bros have been tramping my beat. Fortunately, the creek taxed and redistributed their wealth (to a broke ass trans girl).
Fish to the Pond.