The perfect lure

Aug 20th
Posted by shambo  as fishing


Let me say this about that.

Anybody¬†who knows me knows that I love to go fishing.¬† There is something intrinsically magnificent about a sport¬†in which one can participate while drinking a beer.¬† After all, I am a guy and I am an American.¬† However, it has only been recently that I have taken up ‘fly fishing’.¬† Fly fishing, I have learned, is a lot like golf.¬† In other words, it requires¬†very expensive equipment, it requires that you get up at the crack of dawn, it’s nearly impossible to master, and requires that you¬†learn an entirely new repertoire of four-letter expletives.

Recently, my cousin invited me to go fly fishing for rainbow trout in a cold mountain river near a cabin he has in western North Carolina.  I was very excited to learn the intricacies of this new sport from a professional guide my cousin had arranged.

We arrived at the river at ’0-dark-thirty’ where we met the guide.¬† The guide immediately suggested that we…¬†¬†¬† “dress-out” and handed me a pair of rubber pants.¬† Rubber pants.¬† Now, I have not worn rubber pants since I was a toddler – unless you count that time at the sorority houseparty during my college days when the girls served some of their “special” brownies.¬† You can hardly count this time since I would have never even recalled the incident – save for the pictures.¬† But, I digress.

So, I put on the rubber pants and wade out into the river.¬† The guide informs me that¬†I will be fishing with a special lure called a “Black Woolly-Booger.”

Shambo:¬† “Whoa there now,¬†¬†Ranger Rick.¬† The mental image of a Black Woolly Booger is almost more that I can stomach.¬† I mean, watching a fish eat a booger is bad enough without feeding them one with hair on it.”

Guide:¬† “No problem.¬† Would you rather have a green one?”

Shambo:¬† “A GREEN Woolly Booger?¬† I’m gonna hurl!”

So, I’m fishing away and not catching diddly-squat, while my cousin, 100 yards upstream, is catching¬†fish like he is the Pied Piper of Trout¬†.¬† I call the guide over and ask for help.

Guide:¬† “Don’t look like the trout find the Woolly Boogers too appetizing this morning.”

Shambo:¬† “Ya think?”

Guide:¬† “Your cousin seems to be doing OK, but he has a ‘dry fly’. “

Shambo:¬† “Ain’t gonna be dry too much¬†longer if he keeps drinking beer like that.”

Guide:¬† “Let’s try another lure.¬† This is a new fly I just tied this morning.¬† It’s called a¬†‘Horse Hair Scrotum Scratcher’.¬† Go ahead and try it.”

Shambo:¬† ” I will do no such thing!¬† There’s a Boy Scout camp a mile upstream.¬† What if one of those¬†guys comes floating down the river and catches me using¬†that thing?”

Guide:¬† “OK, OK, forget it.¬† I have another lure I developed¬†myself.¬† I call it the ‘Bangkok Night Crawler’.”

Shambo:¬† “Whoa,¬†been there – done that.¬† But I had a bad experience and swore I’d never try it again.”

Guide:¬† “Perhaps you should take up bowling.”

True, I may never become a great fly fisherman, but I have become fascinated with tying my own flies.¬† My lastest creation is a masterpiece.¬† I call¬†this lure¬†the ‘Cracker Whacker Snapper Slapper’.

And, that’s all I have to say about that.




Leave a Reply

Copyright 2013 - 2009, All Rights Reserved - Powered By Wordpress || Designed By Ridgey