Where are the tout !!!!!

[letumgo]

"why I aughta..."

[willowhead]

here's two fingers in your eyes. BOINK!

[Otter]

If looks could kill then Dubbn would surely have been turned to stone with the look he received from Hank. Digging deep Hank turned to William, “looks lovely William, where will I get in”. Taking Hank down to the old footbridge, he advised him to get in there and wade slowly up to the inside riffle keeping as low a profile as possible. Hank slid down the bank carefully and slowly made his way upstream trying to concentrate as best he could under the circumstances. The inside riffle looked nothing like what Otter described and the water barely reached his ankles. Getting within casting distance Hank tried to envisage what was required but his heart was not in it. The cast was over estimated and the P&O landed in the bush. He could hear Doudgsen laughing upstream and with his tail between his legs he waded across and retrieved his fly. “If there was a trout there he is long gone” said William, “bad luck , you are probably a bit stiff from the long trip”.
“6000 miles “squeaked Dubbn, “6000 miles and you catch a bush ,”

Come lads, we will head downstream, there’s a nice pool for you to see if you can do any better Dubbn announced William. Hank put the P&O back in the keeper ring, scrambled up the bank and followed on downstream. Dejected at not alone the river but his failure to make a simple cast he decided that he was going to make the best of things even if the catch of a trout was an unlikely event. Rounding a bend, William took them well back from the river , then rejoined it some 100 yards downstream. Looking upstream William pointed to a nice looking pool some 20 yards long. Nice looking if you were a goldfish thought Dougsden. There Dubbn, this is one of the best pools on this stretch. The three amigo’s all sighed quietly, their enthusiasm evaporating with each passing moment.

“Wow”, said Dubbn, “that sure is one heck of a pool William, how would you fish it”. William looked at Dubbn and in a very serious manner he suggested that he try a nymph under a dry New Zealand style. Good idea said Hank, “Hey Dubby, make sure the nymph is well weighted, a three or four millimetre bead should do the trick”. Dougsden whispered to Hank, “ 3 or 4mm , that would pull the arse out of the river”. Hank smirked and shouted, “Dubby, make sure you duck on the forward cast, we don’t want you knocking yourself out with that bead. “All right Hank, bushmaster san , I get the message, I can’t do any worse than you, can I ?”

Dubby, formely know as Dubbn tied up his cast, selecting a Deer Hair Caddis as the dry and a very subtly weighted hare’s ear nymph size 16. Dubby climbed down and silently entered the water and commenced casting with no more than 5 yards of line outside the top ring. Covering the water very carefully with short drifts he worked the dry instilling subtle life into the nymph. So impressed were Hank and Dougsden at the obvious control that they soon actually believed that he would catch a trout, silently they watched his progress upstream, all eyes on the dry.



On what would be nearly his final cast on the pool the dry twitched ever so slighty, Dubby raised his rod simultaneously as Hank screamed in total excitement “ take Dubby, you got a take”. The rod bent solidly , soon however the pressure began to tell and his catch slowly yielded and came to the surface. “ Damn fine piece of stick said Doudsgen laughing uncontrollably, “ looks like the branch master has an apprentice”. William helped Dubby out of the stream, patted him on the back and genuinely told him that no one could have fished that pool any better. “Let’s go lads, time to find Dougsden a trout” said William, “ I know just the spot”.
“Bet he does “, whispered Hank to Dubby, “but not on this bloody excuse for a river.” A rabbit eyed them from the edge of his burrow, Hank could have sworn that the son of a b was giggling.

TBC

[willowhead]

As Lawrence Welk used to say....."wonnerful wonnerful wonnerful".....

[Otter]

They followed the river downstream for nearly a quarter mile over some tricky terrain , very tricky in the case of the three amigos whose tempers were quite frayed. Dougsden was lost in thought, trying to remember all that yoga stuff he had tried all those years ago. He tried some breathing exercises but had to cease when Hank told him he sounded like a dog in heat. Dougsden stopped dead in his tracks, he looked straight at Hank and said " hey Bushy, if i fail at the next pool take your best shot, in the mean time keep your woody mouth zipped.". William , allthough a short distance ahead grimaced as he listened to the turmoil of the three amigos. He wondered how much more they could take, still it was not his fault , it was the lying paddy's exagerations that had enticed them to make the trip, Looking back he said " not far now Dougsden , we will soon get your waders wet". " They are already wet" replied Dougsen, "from wetting myself laughing at bushy and his apprentice , bring it on whatever you got planned for me".


The pool was as promised much more fishy looking than the last two, a nice riffle emptying into a long pool of some 25 yards. A few rocks tempered the flow in the pool , creating some nice oppurtunities for good trout feeding lies. Unforunately the deepest spot looked no more than two foot , maybe two and a half feet if you were an optimistic soul. Bushy and dubbn looked on in envy as Dougsden half slid, have fell into the pool. A bow wave sent shock waves the entire length of the pool. "Nice stealth ninja D", said Hank in his best Bruce Lee accent, " did that take many years to practice". "That should wake the residents up, what do you think buffalo bill", said Dougsden turning towards William.
It looked like the gloves were off , everyone was gonna be fair game for comment and ribaldry.

Dougsden reached into his fly box, closed his eyes and the first fly that pricked his finger was then attached to his leader. When the rest looked at his setup they were simply speechless. The fly was about a size four adorned with a bead head the size of a marble, the leader was about 3 foot tapering to a fine 1x. It seemed as though the rest of the world had frozen, as though the gaze of every living thing was fixed firmly on Dougsden. "Dougsden looked at his audience, " I w'ont bother with any practice casts. "Thats the best news I have heard all day", responded Hank. "This should be good, very good ", whispered Dubbn.

Dougsden let 3 yards of line and leader downstream and lobbed it forward, immediately lifting the rod, jigging the whole lot up and down with enormous swooshes of the fly rod. And so it was lob, swoosh, jig up every yard of the pool. After a few yards Hank collapsed on the ground hardly able to breathe, it was all too painful to watch.
On the fourth jig after the eighteenth lob something strange happened, something splashed on the surface and the audience gasped. " Christ almighty, he has caught one, the sob has caught one " , said Hank as he rose to his full height of 5ft 6". All eyes now on the battle. " My god, look at the size of its head", said Dubbn. The fight lasted all of thirty seconds and as Dougsden lifted the rod the dirty big toad found it very difficult to do a breast stroke, particulary as its butt had been pierced by the size 4 hook. " Major surgery, i hope that hook is barbless". said William very seriously. Dubby walked to the edge of the river, looked at the toad, looked at Dougsden and declared like a boxing promoter, " Ladies and Gentlemen, in the red corner weighing in at 12 stone 4 oz and wearing green waders, I give you Dougsden THE FROG HUNTERrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr".

The Frog Hunter released the hook, the toad looked at the Frog Hunter and hopped away quickly. Frog Hunter snipped of the fly, carefully replacing it in the box, turned to William and said, " that was awesome, what's next ".




TBC

[hankaye]

Otter, Howdy;

Thanks for the Daily Double of additions to the tail.

I've been chuckling all day long and the second submission will give me a pleasant evening.

Thank You Sir.

hank

[willowhead]

It's beginning to remind me of the Keystone Kops. .....sorry bout the K, but i worked at a Jazz Club called the Keystone Korner (right next door to the North Beach police station in S.F.), for so many years in the 70's.....i can't think no other way no more.....it's kinna like "K"nutripr......

[Otter]

William looked at his assembled guests, each face pleading with him to show them some decent water. Lads he said, " I can assure you that Turners Cross River has more decent trout in its waters than you could hope to catch in two lifetimes. Its all about confidence and techique and I know you doubt me.". At that William opened his chestpack, took out an envelope and offered it to Hank. "Hank, all these fish came from Turners Cross". Hank opened the package, revealing more than twenty photo's, each showing William or his net holding some very pretty trout and all of very respectable sizes. All three stared at the photos, full of admiration of these fine trout and also a little envious of the angler that caught them. "Okay William, you have made your point, we will follow you to whatever pool without any further moan or lack of interest.

Great said William, " I must make a call to Gabby, back in a moment". William returned in a few minutes, "Sorry, real sorry lads I have to rush home, something urgent has come up and will not be back until to-morrow, follow me quickly". He led them off on a path through some trees, twisting this way then that way. About fifteen minutes later they came to a fork in the path. William stopped, when the three amigos finally caught up with him he said, " Okay I am going this way, you go that way, theres some nice water very closeby. This path that I am taking leads right back to your RV. If you have any problems call me, and sorry. With that William headed away and before any could reply he was gone.

Bushy looked at the others, sheer despair had overcome them. "May as well take the path " said Dubby, "We ain't got anything to lose". So slowly they followed the fork for a few minutes and then entered a clearing. In front of them loomed a large rock and through a gap in the bushes behind it they could make out some water. Walking on they came to the river and all gasped with shock. In front was the most beautiful of rivers, wide , vibrant and plenty deep. Looking upstream to their right close to their side was a tiny riffle. "Holy Chit said the Frog Hunter", its, its ,its the inside riffle just as Otter had described it". And there said Dubbn turning around exictedly, " its the rock seat". He ran over to it , sat down and groaned with pleasure.



Soon it dawned to the amigos that William had been leading them on a merry dance. "I will give that SOB a hug next time I see him said Bushy, after I punch his nose first"

TBC

[hankaye]

Otter, Howdy;

You be one sly dog.....chuckle,chuckle,chuckle

hank

[willowhead]

i knew he was goin' to get them there.....it was just a matter of when.........VERY surprised he'd leave them there to their own devises. THIS is gonna be fun.......