***Your Favorite Fishing Story***

[nighthawk]

[size 1] [/size] [left][font "Times New Roman"][size 3][size 1][unsure][unsure][unsure][/size]Colorado River Story[/size][/font] [unsure][unsure][unsure]

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[font "Times New Roman"][size 3]Well several years ago about 1980 while I lived in Riveria, AZ now Bullhead City, AZ the guys and I went fishing on my boat down the Colorado River, just below Play-A-Del Rio Golf Course. We intended to do some stripper fishing (stripped bass). The guys bought the anchovies and beer so we could have a great time fishing. We anchored the boat just above the Tri State area where Arizona, California and Nevada meet. We were having a great time fishing and caught several strippers. As the hours of darkness went we started to experience the beers taking grasp and didn’t care what was going on[pirate][]. Several of the guys acknowledged that the fishing wasn’t all that great any longer. I couldn’t comprehend why?[/size][/font][/left] [left][font "Times New Roman"][size 3][shocked][shocked]Have you ever seen a beached whale? [shocked][shocked][/size][/font]

[font "Times New Roman"][size 3]If any of you understand the water levels on the Colorado River you would know that is drops 20 to 30 feet in a few hours at night. Especially after Midnight![unsure][unsure][unsure] Well here are 4 [blush][][unsure][pirate] drunken guys in the middle or the river fishing from a beached boat that was casting their rods on a sand bar. Well to make things worse the company I was working for couldn’t understand why 3 of it workers were missing. 2 Mechanics, and a Lube man Tire man were not at work. That was the entire crew! To top it all off the owner of the company kept calling our supervisor. He never got a hold of him because he was with us! Needless to say it wasn’t until about 10 AM when the river started to raise enough to get my boat moving again. I would have loved to have a picture of us fishing off that beached boat. Well it was anchored well! [cool][cool][cool][/size][/font]

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[font "Times New Roman"][size 3]Here is a cartoon I did up. [/size][/font][/left]
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[TubeDude]

[cool]Reminds me of a past fishing buddy who also suffered certain beer-related problems when fishing. He was known to make errant casts, which often lit on the bank, rather than the water. When accused of fishing "too shallow", he would counter with "You don't know much about fishin' fer squirrels do ya?"

My best Nevada fishing story happened on the little island, just out from Boulder Beach. I had recently moved to Boulder City with my family and was still learning about the differences in Idaho trout and Nevada warm water fishes. I had just received a new baitcasting outfit for my 11'th birthday, which was better suited to bass and cats than was the old steel telescope pole with which I had walked stream banks in Idaho.

The family of one of my new friends invited me to come to the Lake with them. They were going waterskiing, but offered to drop me off on the island to fish while they played in the boat. I jumped all over that offer.

I was having fun catching bluegills near the shore, when I saw a couple of big largemouths come sweeping in to ambush the little tykes. I figured I would capitalize on that and tied on a bigger hook on my new baitcast rig, hooked one of my little bluegill in the snout and lobbed it out near where the bass had come from.

It wasn't a bass that accepted my offering, but a HUGE carp. In the clear water a saw a big shape swim over where the little bluegill had settled. Then, without even a munch or a nibble, my rod bent over and the battle was on. The carp angled in toward shore to my left, where I got a good look at how big he was, and then he powered out into the lake.

My cheapie casting reel was not made for handling heavyweights. In those days, there was no star drag. My thumb was the drag. As the surging carp hauled line off the reel, my thumb suffered a terrible "reel rash" and I let up on the pressure. That allowed the spool to overrun and a nasty backlash boiled up. I was almost hauled into the water as the fish was snubbed tight by the stuck reel.

Several things happened all at once. My little reel was ripped from the reel seat and stripped off a couple of guides on my flimsy rod, before the line cracked like a rifle shot. I was left with ringing ears, a badly burned thumb, a broken reel, a destroyed rod...and a healthy respect for old Mister Buglemouth.

I won't tell you that I stretched the truth a bit, when my neighbors came to pick me up off the island. I won't tell you that I claimed that a more glamorous bass had wreaked the damage on me and my system. You can imagine what you want.

TubeDude
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[southernman]

i liked that one!



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