I was in the Savemart the other day reading a Flyfishing magazine when I saw an article about a guy that got a "Sierra Grand Slam" which after further reading I discovered that he caught a Rainbow, a Brown, a Brook and a Golden Trout all in one day.
Big fucking deal. I did the same thing once except I was using spinning gear, it took me an entire weekend, and I shot the Brown with my 41 magnum when I couldn't get him any other way. And I also didn't set out for a so called Grand Slam, I was just fishing my ass off and that's the way it rolled.
As I was reading the article, I could just imagine this fucker. He's probably rich, sitting in his den with a white turtleneck sweater and pipe, roaring fire, dead animals all over his walls, his faithful Irish Setter at his side and his lovely trophy wife bringing him a martini.
Then I pictured my "den" (my spare bedroom with all my fishing and reloading shit in it) - Me in a pair of Wranglers and a ratty ol' T-shirt trying to run Punkindog out of my cat clawed recliner, a couple of Bud bottles laying on their side on the cable reel that serves as an end table, fishing rods thrown in the corner, and the only thing hanging on my walls is a pair of insulated bibs with last winter's fish blood still on them. And the wife? I'm still expecting a lawsuit from her, wherever she may be.
Fuck that Elitist cocksucker.
I decided I was going to set my own record today.
I was going to see how many different rivers and streams I could fish in one day without catching a fucking thing.
While it sounds easy, I laid out some rules last night:
1) I had to actually try to catch fish.
Anybody can chuck a rock or burn off a couple of rounds into a pool and then make a few casts. That's cheating. Fun, but cheating.
2) I had to fish each body of water for at least 1/2 hour and no more than 1 hour.
If I don't catch something within an hour, I usually move on anyway.
3) I had to fish water that I had actually caught fish in during the middle of the day.
Anybody can fish dead water and get skunked. I myself fished a stretch of flooded freeway once and didn't catch shit. The middle of the day requirement comes in because..... well, I'm going to be fishing some waters in the middle of the day.
4) I had to fish at least 150 yards away from any road.
The stretch closest to a road is the most heavily fished because Californians are lazy. I wanted productive water. Besides, I didn't want a bunch of people standing around laughing their asses off while I was trying to cast my flyrod.
5) I couldn't fish in water that requires barbless hooks.
This is because it's easier for a fish to throw a barbless hook. That, and I didn't want to fuck up my meager collection of flies by having to mash the barb down.
6) A fish caught is defined as a fish in the net or if I have to remove the hook.
7) No shooting at fish to scare them away from the fly.
Now, in spite of all this I was pretty damned convinced that I could fish all day in several rivers and streams without catching a fucking thing. As I stated in earlier posts, my flyrod casting is downright comical.
Okay, I start out on the North Fork of the Tuolumne. My first cast was typical, splashing down about 4 feet in front of me. My second cast was perfect, the line shooting out about 30 feet with the fly settling gently on the water. What the fuck? How did that happen? So I tried again. Another perfect cast! Then I decided to try more than one false cast and really try for distance. Perfect cast.
The rest of my day went like that, dammit. At one point, on the Middle Fork of the Stanislaus, I actually had somebody shooting video. Now, while I had a rule against shooting towards fish, I had no such rule against shooting in the general direction of nosey fuckers. My hour was almost up anyway so I popped one off into a tree behind me and when I turned around, Mr Video had vacated the area, the pussy.
Now I could tell you a bit about every stretch of water I fished, but other than me slipping and falling in a couple of times, it's pretty boring.
I will say this: I fished the North Fork of the Tuolumne, the South and Middle Fork of the Stanislaus, Eagle Creek, Mill Creek, Cascade Creek and Deadman's Creek, all without a single fucking fish. I did get a take on Deadman's but he spit the fly as fast as he took it.
Seven bodies of water in one day and not a single solitary fish.
Now while I figured I would eventually fish every river and stream between Long Barn and Sonora Pass without catching anything, never in my wildest dreams did I expect it to happen the first time I tried it.
It just goes to show that practice makes perfect.
Fuck you, Mr. Grand Slam!