Chinook SSSF
07-08-2009, 12:08 AM
Seem to always sneak up when you least expect. For me today started out the same as any other fishing afternooner I plan with me, myself and I and for the most part was fine but somewhere in the later part of the day things just kind of fell apart sending me heading home with a new outlook on humnaity and to some extent life in general. In spite of all that finaly did end up occuring and in all was not enough to really warrant me getting upset, I am proud of myself for exercising constraint and doing my best to move on to the next corner or hole or act.
I had decided to fish the nameless river [because it just doesn't really matter] near my home town like do on most summer days. I ran into a friend from another part of the river and had a great conversation but in the midst of doing so I had hardly noticed the guy with a pole and a cigarette in one hand and a 24 oz bottle of beer in the other step out on an island directly infront of me making it a bit of a challenge to fish at all, even with a 10 foot float rod. I asked him jokingly if he insisted we get our feet wet to step out there and fish but his response was as worthless as the brand of beer he favored. My friend and I laughed as we shook our heads in a comical disgust. There was only one way to deal with this guy peacefully so off I went to the next spot. Looked back as I walked away and the guy had already filled the spot I left behind.
Still having found no fish I opted to visit some old friends that live along the river and ask nicely for permission to throw a few casts. I had a bit of history with these folks and thought it would be ok. Gate was open so I nervously went on up and spoke with them. It had been some time since I had seen them and so they said not today. A nice conversation followed and once again off I went. The older I get the more I see how easy it is to drift apart from people you knew in a past chapter of your life but somehow I just though I would have been more well recieved. Driving back up the road a bit heart broken I came to a spot where previously when I came by 3 drunk guys had been playing with their balls in the street. I did not see any baskets, it appeared as if an empty 24oz budweiser beer can was suitable target. They where still there when I came back and I thought Ohh "G" here we go. The first time I came through I drove very slow, a crawl rather, to give them time to get off the road. I really did not want to talk to these loosers and so I only slowed down enough to get by them on the second round and instead of moving their drunk tails out of the road the tuff one preceeded to yell at me to slow down through my window from 3 feet away at the top of his lungs. My first reaction was, ok this is just getting to be to much to take but just keep driving, dont stop or someone is hurting......keeping my frustrated and upset pride well within the bounds of my shirt tail having not injured anyone...yet...I drove on thinking ..."ok man whatever"....
Heading onward I just lost my ambition entirely to bother even fishing anymore for this night. Even though a few hours of available light remained, the light of fishing ambition had since drained away. I had not found any fish anyways and thought maybe it would just be best to try harder some other day with a fresh start. Even then I could not seem to make it into our parking lot without some group of little white Greshamite teenager biker gang kids with their pants falling of their tails yelling loud profanity at me for just no reason at all. They [the white renegade biker gang] did however cease to frill my feathers any longer when they spotted the 2 young hispanic girls walking down the street. I assume a much better target as they offered up terms like mexican [nice word for prostitute] something and skanky [nice word for flat garden rake] something. I am used to that sort of thing here at home in Gresham but the mantality twords me I found driving and fishing around the countryside somehow caught me well off guard. This time, at home, it was their [the white renegade biker gang] own constraint, on not returning to confront the young ladys for their defensive slander that allowed me to keep my cool.
Thinking back on the day it all seemed harmless now and not so bad, no big deal. I mean life is good for the most part. I could care less about not finding any fish and as I mentioned had a nice conversation with friends, well sorta. Unloading the rig in the parking lot of the palace I live in, reflecting on the days events, that were each a different story, the only thought that could cross my mind was....."I just wanted to ******* go fishing :confused:"
Guess this day was a real sneaker pants eh? Well I can be proud that I did not let the day get to me or get me anymore down than that of this simple writing and infact in some ways writing this may have been just the soak I needed to move on. If you knew me, you would know what an accomplishment that really is :cool:
Stay cool folks
I had decided to fish the nameless river [because it just doesn't really matter] near my home town like do on most summer days. I ran into a friend from another part of the river and had a great conversation but in the midst of doing so I had hardly noticed the guy with a pole and a cigarette in one hand and a 24 oz bottle of beer in the other step out on an island directly infront of me making it a bit of a challenge to fish at all, even with a 10 foot float rod. I asked him jokingly if he insisted we get our feet wet to step out there and fish but his response was as worthless as the brand of beer he favored. My friend and I laughed as we shook our heads in a comical disgust. There was only one way to deal with this guy peacefully so off I went to the next spot. Looked back as I walked away and the guy had already filled the spot I left behind.
Still having found no fish I opted to visit some old friends that live along the river and ask nicely for permission to throw a few casts. I had a bit of history with these folks and thought it would be ok. Gate was open so I nervously went on up and spoke with them. It had been some time since I had seen them and so they said not today. A nice conversation followed and once again off I went. The older I get the more I see how easy it is to drift apart from people you knew in a past chapter of your life but somehow I just though I would have been more well recieved. Driving back up the road a bit heart broken I came to a spot where previously when I came by 3 drunk guys had been playing with their balls in the street. I did not see any baskets, it appeared as if an empty 24oz budweiser beer can was suitable target. They where still there when I came back and I thought Ohh "G" here we go. The first time I came through I drove very slow, a crawl rather, to give them time to get off the road. I really did not want to talk to these loosers and so I only slowed down enough to get by them on the second round and instead of moving their drunk tails out of the road the tuff one preceeded to yell at me to slow down through my window from 3 feet away at the top of his lungs. My first reaction was, ok this is just getting to be to much to take but just keep driving, dont stop or someone is hurting......keeping my frustrated and upset pride well within the bounds of my shirt tail having not injured anyone...yet...I drove on thinking ..."ok man whatever"....
Heading onward I just lost my ambition entirely to bother even fishing anymore for this night. Even though a few hours of available light remained, the light of fishing ambition had since drained away. I had not found any fish anyways and thought maybe it would just be best to try harder some other day with a fresh start. Even then I could not seem to make it into our parking lot without some group of little white Greshamite teenager biker gang kids with their pants falling of their tails yelling loud profanity at me for just no reason at all. They [the white renegade biker gang] did however cease to frill my feathers any longer when they spotted the 2 young hispanic girls walking down the street. I assume a much better target as they offered up terms like mexican [nice word for prostitute] something and skanky [nice word for flat garden rake] something. I am used to that sort of thing here at home in Gresham but the mantality twords me I found driving and fishing around the countryside somehow caught me well off guard. This time, at home, it was their [the white renegade biker gang] own constraint, on not returning to confront the young ladys for their defensive slander that allowed me to keep my cool.
Thinking back on the day it all seemed harmless now and not so bad, no big deal. I mean life is good for the most part. I could care less about not finding any fish and as I mentioned had a nice conversation with friends, well sorta. Unloading the rig in the parking lot of the palace I live in, reflecting on the days events, that were each a different story, the only thought that could cross my mind was....."I just wanted to ******* go fishing :confused:"
Guess this day was a real sneaker pants eh? Well I can be proud that I did not let the day get to me or get me anymore down than that of this simple writing and infact in some ways writing this may have been just the soak I needed to move on. If you knew me, you would know what an accomplishment that really is :cool:
Stay cool folks