This is NOT a fishing blog site.
You want fish stories, go someplace else.
Like http://singlebarbed.com, for instance. His stories are certainly fishy. Funny fishy sometimes.
But while this is not a fishing blog, it’s hard not to notice when a two-foot long fish jumps clean out of the creek a few feet away.
Today was Day Two of the three-day Creek Walk.(http://sanddollaradventures.wordpress.com/2008/05/12/bullets-and-beer-what-could-go-wrong/)
In addition to publishing this highly professional, award winning blog site, since I want to be a “real writer” when I grow up, I was tickled when I got a couple of newspaper pieces published on this Creek Walk event. (http://www.dailydemocrat.com/ci_9489062?IADID=Search-www.dailydemocrat.com-www.dailydemocrat.com)
Today, our morning briefing included an admonition to watch for snakes.
Rattlesnakes.
So, I start walking next to a guy named Jeff, who says, “I hope I see snakes today.”
Jeff, you see, really likes snakes.
Indiana Jones, obviously he’s not.
Indiana: There’s a big snake in the plane, Jock.
Jock: Oh, that’s just my pet snake Reggie.
Indiana: I hate snakes, Jock. I hate ‘em.
Jock: C’mon, show a little backbone, will ya?
Upon opening the Well of the Souls and peering down into it]
Sallah: Indy, why does the floor move?
Indiana: Give me your torch.
[Sallah does, and Indy drops it in]
Indiana: Snakes. Why’d it have to be snakes?
Sallah: Asps. Very dangerous. You go first.
So, funny thing; we hadn’t gone 100 feet from the road and there was a rattlesnake crossing the trail.
(So why DOES a rattlesnake cross the trail?)
Needless to say, Jeff was happy.
And that we saw more snakes made Jeff even happier.
It wasn’t just snakes and large fish jumping clean out of the water (maybe they were being chased by the snakes) that we saw.
There was that itty, bitty, little frog pictured above.
And the air show along the creek almost rivaled the WW II planes I spoke of in my last post, with flocks of flying denizens of the sky: massive blue herons; snow white snow egrets; streaking Osprey; circling Swainson hawks, just to name a few.
The last picture I will offer is a cute critter that was found (and replaced) in a quiet section of the creek that formed a placid pool off the main channel.
You know the story of the tortoise and the hare and the hare is supposed to be the fast one?
When the turtle was placed back at water’s edge I expected the guy to slowly stroll back into the water.
Silly me. One minute he (or she?) was safely ensconced within its shell and the next she (he?) was doing a Michael Phelps imitation, leaving a trail of bubbles.
It wasn’t exactly a rooster tail, but what would you expect from a turtle?
I went fishing in Thailand once….old school style. string and hook. I caught something but the line cut my hand and the local took it from me so we could get the fish and eat dinner. nasty gash.
NM,
You neglected to mention two important items:
1. Did the local land the lunker?
2. How did it cook up?
As we sailed down the coast of Baja last fall, we were line fishing off the stern; I was scared as hell we might catch a big one and have to haul it in, hand-over-hand.
Hey, Matt – you are officially only the second travel site I have added to my blogroll (since I noticed you were nice enough to list mine).
What do you mean this isn’t a fishing blog? Aren’t they all?
Just like all paths lead to the great path, all blogs eventually lead to fishing. That’s zen stuff if you didn’t know.
Turtles are fast, and since you’ll be traveling a lot (and making millions doing so), remember that snapping turtles are damned fast. And when you think about it, turtles are pretty zen too.
Ummmmmmmm…there.; I’m one with the river now.
When you say fishing, do you speak of the process, including the appurtenant futzing involved, such as retrieving one’s hook from the local flora—or my own arse—or do you speak to the ultimate satiation that ends with a picture of a trophy specimen, suitable for mounting in one’s den, if had not been released?
I have spent countless hours with the former but must live vicariously through your well written site (http://troutunderground.com/) to appreciate the latter.
If only I had someone nearby who could be my Zen master…
1. Yes, he did.
2. He cooked it up over a fire on the beach.
and thanks for the blogroll add!
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