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First of all, I hope that all goes well with the surgery. Hurry home and heal up quick. Second, I saw Jeremah Jonhson try to do what you did, He didn't have near the sucess that you had though Again Good Luck LT
ex-lt...sorry, no such story here but I do want you to know I'm praying for you and I hope the surgery goes well and that you recover quickly so you can get back out on the ice!
Our prayers go out to you ex-lt.
when i was younger, say thirteen or so, my dad would occasionally take me on hiking trips into the various mountain ranges across wyoming. many times we would travel south to big piney, enter the wind rivers on one side, and take eight or ten days to hike, fish, and climb our way to the other. about halfway through one of these expeditions, we camped at the base of the cirque of the towers, a craggy arrangement of several vertically-sloped pinnacles rising about 1500 feet out of a lush, green basin at the bottom. under the shade of these monoliths is a tiny stream, at its widest maybe fifteen or twenty yards across. it winds its way through the high-country grasses and fallen boulders littering the landscape, sometimes falling in gently rushing waterfalls over the bare bedrock and into deeper pools filled to the brim with brook trout. for two days we stayed there, flyfishing our hearts out, catching one 8-12 inch brookie on almost every cast. my favorite fly to use was a small royal wulff. seemed like every time a could get it to stand still for just a moment in a little eddy or pool with a foot or more of depth, the fish would rise at it until i hooked one of them. on one cast, i hooked one of the brookies just at the bottom of the falls that washed into a larger pool, and like most brook-trout, he thrashed furiously at the line ensnaring him, tailwalking right into the dark blue pool. as he fought to throw the hook, i saw another flash, and bam, my flyrod doubled over with something that weighed many times more than the brookie that i had originally hooked. as i brought in the line slowly after the heavy attacker took a couple of quick runs to the other side of the pool, i saw that i had a huge cutthroat holding on to the brookie for dear life for the sake of a quick meal. well, the royal wulff hadn't dug through the brookie and into the far larger jaws of the cutt, so when he realized what he had gotten himself into, he spit the poor mutilated brook-trout and onto the bank it flew. the big fish swam off into the dark blue until i lost sight of him for what i thought would be the last time. later that day, after ranging around to different areas on the stream, i brought my dad back to where i had the big trout on my line, and began throwing an elk-hair caddis at the riffles above and below the pool. almost immediately, the cutthroat rose from beneath the shadows of a rock and slammed into the little fly, and i answered with a solid hookset. my dad freaked out at the size of this fish in this tiny stream surrounded by these tiny brookies, and after i had worked the cutt up into the shallows alongside the pool, we began to try to figure out the best way to land it. dad waded into the water and as he approached the nearly bested brute, the fish lunged away and around his ankles, wrapping the tippet two or three times, and with one last heave of his weight against my dad's fumbling, the tippet broke and the trophy cutthroat was free again to haunt the brook under the cirque of the towers.
Good to see you are back with the living. We had a great time without you on ocean . But the fish were hiding from us Anyhoo, glad to see you are recovering nicely. Will be thinking bout ya, as we are destroying some fish next week. Laters the cator.
I have a similar store as BottomDweller. I was fishing for perch late in the day at festo lake with my grandfather. I was fishing with worms on one rod and jigging with the other. I noticed that the rod with the worms had a fish on so i set the rod with the jig on it down. i then picked up the other rod and set the hook and started to reel in a nice sized perch. It was about 10-15 feet form the shore when my grandfather started to yell at me. I looked over at him and he was pointing toward the water, this huge wake was forming in the water and the fin of a very large tiger muskey was right at the beginning of it. I got so exited to see that (i was probably 10 or so) i forgot what i was doing with the perch. As i followed the tiger with my eyes he was headed right to my line. I then remembered that i had a fish on and started to reel in the perch and watched the tiger. As they got closer together the perch started to jump out of the water and the tiger just swam after it faster and faster when all of the sudden the tiger grabbed the perch and took off. I started to reel in both fish and my grandfather was yelling at me to get both to the shore. I kept on reeling with the rod just bent over like it was about to snap. When all of the sudden the line went limp and the rod shot back to strait. I figured that the tiger had stole both the perch and the line because i didn't have a mtl leader on. As the end of the line got closer i realized that i had the head of the perch still on the hook. I pulled it up and my grandfather saw what i had and started laughing so hard that he fell of his chair and rolled down into the water still laghing. As i stood stunned at what had just happened!