Thursday, August 25, 2016

And now, the rest of the story

I thought it would be only right that I let all of my good friends know what's being going on around Windknots headquarters since our ill-fated trip to the Blue River.  BUT, before I do, I would highly recommend you rub the charm on the lady's necklace before we start.  I'm not exactly superstitious but...just in case.

Runaway truck ramp on I-70
So anyway, after exiting the highway, we rolled into Silverthorne, Colorado...literally, because our brakes went out.  We were lucky that we weren't still on highway which has a grade that causes semi trucks to burn their brakes out. It was Sunday so we couldn't find any help. Luckily, we were close to a motel and checked in for the night, all along hoping that it wasn't too serious or expensive to fix.   

To make a long story short, after a really restless night we arranged for the local Ford dealership to pick up the dead Mariner and begin whatever work needed to be done. One of my brothers came to pick us up (bless you Mike!) and is letting me borrow his truck until we get the Mariner back.  Right now we are sitting at $1300 and still no word whether it's done yet.

And, as if that isn't enough for you...

I took my wife's Honda to the store yesterday afternoon to pick up some medicine.  I locked the keys in the car and we don't have a spare.  Oops!  Luckily We found an inexpensive company to come out and unlock the car.  Uh...you might want to rub that charm again.

Anyway, we're fine and I'm sure looking forward to driving back up to pick up the car whenever it's ready.  Down below you'll find a post from about 5 years ago about superstition if you care to read it.

Windknots Rerun

I was having breakfast a few days ago with a bunch of fly fishers. Guys that I've been meeting and fishing with for a number of years. Our gang meets once a month at a local restaurant to cuss and discuss all the latest in sports. Of course some fun bantering between us and the waitresses is all part of the attraction. Our gang consists of four middle-aged men in various states of disrepair who are well past their prime as far as looks and attractablilty to the fairer sex and more importantly, their fly fishing abilities. Mo is the oldest and so named because according to Mo, if you haven't fished the Mighty Missouri, you've never really fished. Max is the gourmet cook and in charge of meals on our trips. Max was an army cook and doesn't prepare anything without adding 200 pounds of flour, water and then deep frying. La-La is originally from Los Angeles and signs autographed photos of himself holding a very large fish of some type that he once caught off the coast. La's one claim to fame is that he once met the hairdresser of Clark Gable's stand-in for Gone with the Wind. Then there's your's truly. You know me as cofisher, they called me Broyhill-decorator of trees and shrubs from sea to shining sea.  There is a fifth member that we haven't seen for awhile who we will call Rubio. Rubio's probation officer refuses to let him meet the gang any more until his probation is up in two years. Anyway, the gang was sipping coffee and having breakfast at the local Village Inn and talking about superstitions. We came to an immediate consensus that Roxie, our buxom waitress would in fact look better with a girdle under her frock. After that it was every man for himself. My cohorts are convinced that the only reason I wear my Tilley is that I caught a few fish while wearing it. I say hogwash! I'm not superstitious. The best reason to wear a Tilley is it catches more errant flies than the trees around me and they're easier to reach. Max is convinced that his bad fishing luck is due to lack of companionship...he's been trying to get Roxie in his sleeping bag for a year. Coincidentally the same amount of time it has been since he broke up with his last girlfriend or caught a fish.  Mo is different. He's caught fish. I personally have never caught a sucker on a fly before and I don't know how he does it. Mo says if we were fishing the Mighty Missouri that we'd be catching huge trout by the buckets. The discussion then centers around whether Mo is baiting his fly with pork rinds, accounting for his fish count. La-La is another story. He's convinced that the only problem with going fishing is that we do it on the wrong phase of the moon. Pushed for more information, La is hard pressed to explain except to say something like, when the moon is in it's second quarter and the moonbeams reflect off Ted Danson's bald head, it's time to go fishing! I don't see any signs of superstition here...just good practical fishing stuff old guys learn after years of fumbling around at night when the moon is in the second quarter and you step on a bag of pork rinds.

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