a bear of a few weeks
June 22nd, 2009
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The last few weeks have been nothing but go-go-go for me (and there doesn’t look to be a change in plans anytime soon). It has been nice to be able and take a break from everything and see all that has been happening here with all of you. Keep it up guys.
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I have gotten to fish the 3wt a few evenings since the river opened less then a month ago. And it has been fun watching the progression of phenomenal hatches that have been popping off despite the recent cooler weather. The May flies don’t seem to mind the fact it is June and they are out in force on any-give-evening.
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This was the case last week. After putting the little ladies to bed I quickly threw a couple of cold ones in my back pockets, grabbed the little stick, just a couple bugs and strolled down by the riverside with a pinner to do a little wet wading.
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The river was hopping with life and I was pleased – so much so I didn’t even crack open a beer. Rather it was right to business casting bugs to fish that almost would meet it half way in the air just to say to the other fish that he got it first.
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That’s when things took an unexpected turn. I could hear some rustling behind me thru the one ear that I had left free of the ipod. Not thinking much I casually bent around half heartedly expecting to see a local neighbor who will often come just to shoot the shit or even better just one of the neighborhood dogs (the dogs actually bug me less then Smokey Joe does, though Joe usually brings pinners so). To my surprise it was neither, and in retort of self preservation without contemplation I seam to be gifted.
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You see what I did see as I was turning was a bear. Now it wasn’t Ben from Black
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And that is when my self preservation went into auto pilot causing my pivot foot (the only one currently in contact with the earth via slippery river bolder) to slide out from under me leaving me to flutter like a brick back onto said slippery rock landing squarely on my ass with the only thing to break my fall being the full silver bullet can in my back pocket.
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Mind you this all took place in a split second. But during that split second I thought, and in this order, don’t break your rod, but grab the 9, ohhh shit this is going to hurt.
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And then it did.
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Granted im not sure I actually physically moved in any coherent manner as to not break the rod or grab for the 9 but I thunk it. And that’s got to be half the battle.
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Landing on the unopened beer in my back pocket, crushing it, sending rockey mountain freshness up and down my backside only stayed relevant for a few seconds as I quickly sprung to my feet while turning mid air to face my advancing attacker. To my surprise all that was to be seen was the backside of the bear doing an impressive clip down river, even taking out some sapling in the process.
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Now im not sure if it was my display of aerial Kung Fu or the fact I was able to crush mettle with my butt or a combination of the two, frankly I could care less I was just happy that he was retreating – though I do need to restock my bear hair for fly tying. But I will be more then happy to just pay for some and not be mauled.
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As for fishing it wasn’t more then 10min before I cracked open the other beer for drinking and started to catch fish again. This time no ipod and just a tad more mindful of what was behind me.
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Meskel
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