I thought inbreds were dumb.
You hear the term inbreeding, and it conjures up images of big-headed
little kids, with snot-crusted bubble-blowing noses, bare feet and lice ridden
heads. Their intelligence level rates
somewhere between; a plate of chicken that’s been in the back of the fridge
since the Clinton administration, and an amoeba. This specialty koi/carp/goldfish, while
probably inbred, defies the stereotype.
It is one of the smartest fish I have ever fished for. Ever. It’s smart enough to have me doubting my
fishing ability entirely. That isn’t
saying much, but it is still frustrating. This fish isn’t like any other
either. It plays mind games. Jedi-freaking Spock mind games… (Somewhere, a fanboy just committed suicide because
of that comparison. Moment of silence
begins now… … … …). Seriously though, he
will swim right up to my fly. At the
point that I think he is going to take it, he will turn to FACE me and then swim off
with an indignant swish of his majestic flowing tail. I hate him.
I hate him so much.
I might as well call this the “week of second guessing” too. That is what I have done all week. I have called myself every synonym of stupid I can think of. I have lost my cast, found it, second guessed it, and lost it again. I have cursed myself for choosing a BANANA-YELLOW fly rod for a mission where stealth, is critical. I have a plan, though; giving up is not an option. If I don’t get smiled upon by Neptune himself and catch this water stallion before this contest is over, I am going to take a sick day. I will buy a ghille suit, smear camo paint all over my face and fly rod, and go full-on Long Trang on that piscadevil. I will bring that fish to hand. Okay, it won’t be a sick day, but it will happen. Mark. My. Words.
Last week, I made mention of my catch-streak. Totally called it, by the way. The day that post went out, I caught a big ol’ polecat. That’s a skunk to the uninitiated. It’s happened twice since the self-fulfilling prophecy. I blame the koi, and his little (newly discovered) little brother. It’s their fault. I have: chummed with bread, thrown every carp fly, changed leaders, tied on a steelhead leader with an extra four feet of tippet, bought (and tried) more carp flies, stepped up the size of the tippet, scaled the size back down, lost the first set of flies in every conceivable manner, and considered quitting fly fishing altogether. I mean, I am constantly surprised at the tensile strength of the tiniest freaking tip of the tiniest freaking weed.
Enough about that fish, you want to hear how the rest of the
quest is going, right? The weather is
turning colder just a bit earlier than it did last year, but I should be able
to hold the waders off till after this contest is over. I skunked out on trout, and I almost missed a
day. Saturday, I went to help a
friend. I got a late start to begin
with, and was late getting to his house.
After doing the repair he needed, I went to the Orvis store to amputate
my wallet. That’s where I almost lost
the contest. I got sidetracked at the
selection of flies, and I was contemplating buying something with leather elbow
patches, when I realized I was almost out of daylight. I had more than an hour, but only if I could
find somewhere close. Add another
half-a-point to the species list (11 for those playing the home game) for my
Copper-Nose Bluegill that was caught behind the newly opened Orvis store.
This is crunch time.
One week left, it is do-or-die.
My fridge is empty, I have been getting almost all my meals from a drive
through. My fly tying desk looks like I
tried to real-life play angry birds, then angry squirrels, then angry bunnies,
then angry Hobby Lobby customers. I
would also like to apologize for this post.
It’s distracting, scatter-brained, and a little played out. Actually, I take that back, it’s a perfect
representation. This quest has taken its
toll, and work has been uber-frustrating this week.
That said… Brandy
Smith, Levi Green, Magnolia Sexton, Ken Hacker, James Schmidt, Lisa Brubaker, Shelley
Montgomery, Mark Hardin, LCpl Manning, John Michael Gavit, Cass Winslow, Kirk
Ryan, and the rest of the Corps (Old and
New); Happy 236th Birthday, Marines! Tomorrow is Veterans Day, remember to
actively seek out and thank a
veteran. It is more than just a random
pre-Black Friday day off, take a second and show some respect to the people
that chose to either serve for you, or chose to serve with you. Veterans, thank you for your service. I hope you are taking full advantage of the
only Federal Holiday you actually earned.
I will be chasing carp on the Pedernales River while humming a Charlie
Robison tune. See you downstream!
Ok, Brandon is entering the home stretch here- next Thursday is his final day of fishing and next Tuesday is the final day to enter the contest. If you haven't already, enter in the top right side bar. You're entering to win a OBIF T-shirt and a large Morrell fly box. The rules are here.
Previous OBIF 30 Days of Fishing posts:
The Kick-off Post
Week One
Week Two
Make sure you check out Brandon's site onebugisfake.com




I've always been a sucker for leather elbow patches. Seriously. I love them.
ReplyDeleteAnd a day early though it may be, thank you much, Brandon, for your service.
Way to go Brandon. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteReese's- Thanks. From the bottom of my heart.
ReplyDeleteCofisher- Man thanks for always reading!
Brandon - I too, would like to pause on this day and say THANK YOU for your service.
ReplyDeleteIn regards to your post - love it as always! I don't know why - but this line has stuck out since I read this yesterday "I blame the koi, and his little (newly discovered) little brother. It’s their fault." LOL' Go get that little Koi family!