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Fly Fishing

> Best of the Forum - most interesting quotes list, Page 2

However, grouping the members of this forum (or scientists, for that matter) into two different "sides" seems a bit too polarized to me. I think we share varying degrees of common ground, and this site is more like an intersection than a fault line. That's what makes it so unique and interesting.

I read an article some years ago by Ernie Schwiebert detailing (and providing separate patterns for) a number of species of black ants... minor variations in the patterns, of course, so the trout could tell which fake species they were being hooked on.....

Speaking of refusals… These are NOT unsophisticated mountain trout, like tend to exist in adjacent canyons. These little shts (I actually said that!) would inspect, refuse, and spook like crazy little banshees at too big an indicator dry, or tippet landing on em, or seeing the same “not food” pass by more than 3 times. In those unpredictable canyon breezes, and turbulence that too often took a cast or two to figure out, I’d finally get a “good drift”, you know the ones you EXPECT fish on, and the little ____ would say, “Nope!”

“NO!???”, I’d stammer.

“What, do we look stupid??” they’d reply.

Yes, I’ve been known to talk to fish, and have them answer. Haven’t you?

I can see the hit movie now! A passenger jet flies through a massive Hex hatch, and it's up to Samuel L. Jackson to save the passengers and the engines from millions of mayflies. Near the end of the movie he finally gets really angry and proclaims, I have had it with these dunner-shucking drakes on this dunner-shucking plane!

When fishing in bear country, always double up with a guy that runs slower than you.

Its just that I'm from the area originally and I get a giggle out of the notion of serious guys festooned in a 1000 bucks worth of gear standing in the same place in Elk Creek where my Dad used to net smelt, spear suckers and take his Plott hounds down for baths.

Speaking of coon dogs, if you go downstream around the first bend below what is now called Folly's End (used to be Bert Luther's place) you'll come to the high bank where my paternal grandfather made the mistake of inserting his foot into an argument between a couple of his Blue Ticks and a big ol' boar coon. The dogs and the coon were rolling around in a ball in the shallows making a hell of a commotion. So, the old man hauled off and kicked the coon in the slats. The coon came out of there with his teeth stuck in the toe of the old man's boot and on into his 2nd and 3rd toes as I recall. While the old man was never much on actual work (he got his screws turned in the Great War and to my knowledge never worked a day in his life on a regular job), he was very light on his feet for being 5'6", 205 lb. And never more so than when the coon had him by the toes. So, he's dancing around on the bank trying to shake him loose and after a few moments, pulled out a .22 pistolover and fed him 3 or 4 rounds. This relaxed the coon immensely and the old man got his foot back. My Dad (who was maybe 14 or so at the time, this was in the late 1930's) cut him a stick to use for a crutch and the old man went home, soaked his toe, smeared it with bag balm and taped it up. And was back out running them the next night, although I don't think he tried to referee any more coon/dog disagreements. He was a tough old b--t--d though. Once, when he was nearly 80, I saw him bite a chuck out of the side of a red delicious apple, with both his upper and lower full plates out. Try that...

But never mind me. I'm obviously getting old and cranky. Sorry for thread busting.