sometimes its the small shit

Release the kraken

monday dawn came early, i read the time on my phone with my eyes full of sleep and sand- 5:45am. layla (the boss and my bunk mate) growled and moaned and decided she drank too much water the night before and needed to empty the pipes. i burped and decided i drank too much whiskey the night before and could also use the release. out from the camper the stark reality hit my head like a hammer…”im on the deschutes, and there are goddamn fish here”.

john candy

salmon flies were all but gone, golden’s were strays and i only saw one green drake. don’t care. sprained/hyper extended elbow? don’t care. rain coming down and the only jacket i have still soaked from the night before? don’t care. i got my lumbering ass into the first run as fog was lifting and deer were grazing. “wow im not hungover” in my dictionary is usually defined as – “still drunk” but not today, i was 80% sharp-  like the knife i jabbed into my thumb as i picked dirt out of my fly eye.  first cast-nothing. X that by 5 or 6 and i was moving, as were the rafting hippies after their morning rabbit viewing/bong hitting party commenced. 10 minutes after they were out of view and i continued- snap t, cast-see ya normie, drift..drift..drift..boom- norm gets whacked..i mean WHACKED. line tightens, reel zings and i set the hook- thanks for playing, maybe next time…shit. whatever, that take fresh in my mind and my blood running faster than hell i realize i have to give the elbow a break, it gets worse…a lot worse-  i realized i was done at around 1pm when the pain being so intense that on my last line mend my arm went completely limp and the switch rod slipped out of my hand. yep all done. oh well, shannon made some killer lunch grub and pbr was had. the rest of the day consisted of perfecting my bald head sunburn and watching layla play in the water.

the river otter

so, two days on the deschutes, probably totaled 3 hours of casting. sound horrible? no fish brought to hand and ran out of ice on monday afternoon..bad news? the way my guts feel after eating deep fried mushrooms at the rainbow, wasted? my arm, now in a sling and throbbing like a hummingbirds heart, blasted?   Nope –  Good times with great friends will outweigh anything short of crashing planes or screwing a bees nest. Always remember kids, your time is what you make it and in the end, all we do is tell stories.

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2 Responses to “sometimes its the small shit”

  1. muscrat Says:

    WORD.

  2. Zorro Says:

    Well, we made it out of the rainbow alive but u failed to mention filling up ur wadders and ur dream girl sleeping next camp over inwhich u never talked to. I need money for those photos by the way!!!!

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