Sunday, November 5, 2017

Last trip of the year

I'm back!

I had some good news this week from my cardiologist.  Everything is still working as it's supposed to. It's a little nerve wracking when you get a recall notice on your pacemaker and the doctor calls you in to have your 10,000 mile checkup a few years early.  After being released from the shop, I decided to celebrate.  I called my buddy Mark to ask this half of the Goober brothers to go fishing.

I'd been in a bit of a funk due to the recall notice, but now I was once again free to get out and scare some fish.  The first decision had been made, I needed someone with me that is fun to fish with but not nearly as good a fisherman as I am.  Check.

Next, I need to go somewhere that meets the strict standards I have for a fishing trip.  There has got to be water and at least the appearance of having fish in it. Check.



I know what you're thinking.  That's a stinkin' mud hole!  And you'd be right!  When Mark suggested we go to the Stinkin' Mud hole, this is where we ended up.  But it does have water, a blue sky, mountains in the background and trees. Only the fish were questionable.

Despite it's looks, it did indeed have fish swimming in it or at least they looked like fish.. At that point I half expected the "fish" to sprout legs and walk out of the water. While I was surveying the water, Mark pulled out his waders and started pulling them on.  Mark believes that in order to really call it fly fishing you need to dress the part, so there he was standing in maybe three feet of water on a stream you could comfortably jump across in all his fly fishing glory.

At this point I probably need to mention that there is an improved walking path that runs to and along this gem.  Here in Colorado we believe in inclusion of anyone that wants to do anything in the outdoors; hike, bike or let your dog $**t in the woods.  And since it was a nice day, out they were...doing all of the above.

Well, to make a long story short, before I could even cast once, Mark hooked a nice one.  It just so happened to be a fancy French bicycle that happened by at the time. This is Boulder County after all. Mark had him hooked good.  There was yelling in English, cursing in French and dogs barking in Dog.

As Mark waddled over to retrieve his fly, line and rod from the quickly disappearing bicyclist, he was bitten by a French poodle named FiFi.  We did eventually get Mark's rod back (Minus most of the line and fly) and after some medical attention, Mark is now resting comfortably at home.

Get well wishes can be sent to Mark via your comments here.  I'm done fishing for the year.