Jan 16 2011 4:47 pm
brown trout, phone sex, beer
I was resigned. I fished this same run three days ago and hooked two fish in it. One was a big brown. Broke both off because I suck at fishing. Actually I think it was because I hadn’t tied a knot in like 18 days and when I tried to snell the hook with 8lb flouro I must have done it wrong. Twice. Then I fished it again a couple days later and didn’t touch a fish.
So there I was again, third day out of five.
I started at the top under the tree and swung through a few times then stepped down. When I finally got to the magic spot it happened. Exact same spot. Then I took about thirty absolutely terrible photographs of said fish.
I was sitting on the couch, fat, watching TV after overeating and over drinking and over chewing. The last thing I expected when the phone rang was to see her name. I almost didn’t pick up.
“Hello?” I said halfheartedly.
“Hey. I just sent you an email.”
“OK.” I check my email. She’s lifting her heel and looking over her shoulder. She’s about perfect.
“I had a dream about you last night. We were fucking.”
Victory’s Hop Wallop is just as hoppy as I remember it, but a lot sweeter. Still a bit of lingering, acrid bitterness, but a much better experience than the last time I had it. Then I worked on my SEO a little bit.
