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OK, I'm bored... Everyone add a paragraph or two! Have fun, and let's see what we catch!
(keep it clean, please!)
:smile:

I got out of bed before 3 O'clock in the morning, tried my best to dress for the occasion, stumbled through the coffee making procedure, and jumped in the truck to go fishing.

The rain poured down in torrents as my windshield wipers were slappin time, but by the time I got to my destination, it had all settled down, and as I opened my truck door, all was quiet, except for an occasional drop from the overhanging leaves on the tree.

The wind was flat calm and the water was glassy. The sun hadn't entirely come up yet, so I poured myself a cup of coffee and tried to put my gear together by the overhead light in the truck.

????
 

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As I prepared my lines, I heard a splash down near the waters edge-

Lifting my head, and looking towards the water, I saw the ripples, remenent of the fish that had just jumped, slowly, they moved outward til spashing up on the shore.

With the lines ready, I opended the door and started to get out gear and coffee ready to go- but stopped, as I heard yet another noise--

[ 04-27-2003, 05:47 PM: Message edited by: snowball ]
 

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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
WHAT WAS IT??? :shocked:
 

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It was still too dark to fish, even though I legally could wet a line. I was getting anxious to get to the water and the sound of the fish hadn't made it any easier. I had my waders on, my belt cinched, my rod and reel ready and my bag'O'stuff over my shoulder. I knew it was too dark to start down the muddy bank, but I set off anyway. My premonition was correct and I took an otter-slide down to the water's edge on my back side, a little thankful that it was dark and I was alone, preserving a shred of dignity.

The steely gray reflection of the sky gave me enough sense of the river to know where to cast. I secured my footing and let my cast go ...
 

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It was a low gutteral bellow, an almost inhuman sound the pierced the darkness like a gunshot. The hair on the back of my neck began to stand on end and goose bumps began to form on my arm like clam dimples at low tide. Then off to my left in the dark forest I saw a movement.
 
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...it was that big blacktail buck that tried to take on Jennie's dog Kilchis. He apparently had come back looking to finish the job if that's possible. I looked at him closely and pondered what my next move would be when suddenly............
 

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I realized it was really Bait 'o Eggs, trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard at my antics getting down the bank. He choked and gurgled, making almost inhuman sounds...

[ 04-27-2003, 06:13 PM: Message edited by: skein ]
 

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I was startled at first... and then to my amazement Team Carrot Milk emerged! Obviously dressed for success, they approached the waters edge with confidence. 5-cents and XTC cast in unison mumbling something about their boat not starting...
 

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5-cents hung his rig up in a tree branch on the far bank and fishnxtc got the biggest backlash known to man. i chuckled under my breath as i applied some more marie's scent to my rig and cast again. as my rig hit the water, a hog of a springer jumped about 15 yards below where my cast had landed.
 

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Bobbers and Kwikfsih, Bobbers and Kwikfsih, Oh my , all wrapped with bacon strips, Ready to cast high in the sky.... :hoboy: Before we give then a good fling, let's put our special sauce on that kwidky thing. :grin:
 

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Watching intently, my gear was drifting perfectly to the spot I saw the fish jump. A small tug and the SLAM!! Fish on!!. Just at that moment I see a bunch of hardware come loose from a tree across the river and right across my line.....
 

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The K-16/bobber combo was supersonic as it struck my line, breaking it instantly. I lean the Loomis on a fallen tree and begin to retie. I realized it may become a long day when the dog stepped on the GL-3, snapping it faster than the line had moments before...

[ 04-27-2003, 08:05 PM: Message edited by: Flatfish ]
 

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All of the sudden, I heard a big splash in the water. Something was surfacing with my fish in it's mouth. At first I thought, "there can't be a seal this far from tidewater", when all of the sudden I realized it wasn't a seal, it was a Sasquatch that had my fish.....
 

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Suddenly I realized YOU CAN'T WEAR A DRESS when you go fishing. What was I thinking...even worse what will all the other fishermen think? What if they think I am OVERDRESSED. What am I supposed to do? I can't just pretend I'm not wearing a dress...someone is sure to notice...but on the other hand I'm not about to leave my spot on the riverbank just to change clothes. My hands are sweaty...my heart is pounding. I've never been in this fix before...
 

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My knees began to shake as the Sasquatch began making his way to the other shore. Fearing for the lives of the other fisherman present, I grabbed my pig sticker rod and tied on an 12 oz plunking sinker.
The ebony of the early morning turned to a low glow, and dress or no dress, I was going to do something.
I reached back, thumb secured on the line, the weight of those wonderful 12 ounces, hanging beneith my catapult tip, ready to launch. Then with out warning, all of sudden
 

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Someone appeared like a re occuring nightmare. He had snoopy rods rigged with K-16 wrapped with orange peels that he borrowed from WatrDog's most valued fishing gear. The carrot boys jumped into his 16 foot ocean vessel and proceeded to head to the nearest bar to tackle 28 foot swells with the skill of a Jedi. He made it to the first set of swells when....

[ 04-28-2003, 02:04 PM: Message edited by: Pete ]
 

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Their lighted k-13 broke, and they were force to fish with sandshrimp and a secret sauce.

That seemed ok though, as Team Carrot Milk was attempting to lure the sasquatch closer with the powerful scent of carrot juice.

As the creature emerged from the woods, and the shore grew further in the distance, the general consensus among the Carrot Milkers was that this was not one beast alone. This creature appeared to be more than that. It carried the shadow of what appeared to to be the unimistakeable tandem of Fission Mission and ******,with each figure carrying what appeared to be from the distance a crumpled set of papers.

Could these be the long lost diaries to the Mission zipperlip salmon holes, or just another ploy to direct the hungry masses towards Tillamook Springer heaven.............. :shocked: :hoboy: :grin: ????????????


Chris :cool:

[ 04-28-2003, 12:33 AM: Message edited by: FWF1 ]
 

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Or was just the list of were to pickup the baton. When a shriek was heard form the bank afar they went to see what could cause such a commotion. Walking with care they found jerramysgonefishing sulking and moaning that he will never get a springer.
 

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As he was saying "i never catch...." his rod doubled over and snapped in half. The mighty salmon ripped down river with a wake a Hanjin freighter would be proud of,still sizzling line from his now 2 foot long one eyed Kenai killer, jeremysgonefishing shreiked for help.
 
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