Pissing off the fishing gods is just about the last thing you want to do. Retribution will be swift.
Last night Shane and I finally got a chance to go fishing together. Not that it was really a fishing trip, as Shane has recently purchased a new to him DSLR. All excited about it, he just wanted to take pictures. Me, I just wanted to get out of town and go fishing.
For those in the know around here, the news that runoff is here will come as no surprise. We knew our options were limited, but we decided to head for a creek up the Gallatin Canyon. The road that was to be option one was closed and our second choice was pretty stained up as well. But it worked.
The next couple hours consisted of me chucking big flies into the seam and Shane running around telling me when to cast, where to look, what to do etc. All in all, it was a great night. Right up until the new camera, mounted on a new tripod, lazily tipped over on the bank and slipped into the murky depths. It was only a quick dip, but it was enough to wet everything down, get grit into the lens zoom, and get a droplet of water inside the lens glass.
(Don’t worry, I just received word it dried out fine and everything is working well)
Not too long after that, we hit the road. Just threw everything in the car like we always do and drove off. About halfway home, I had the sudden flash that my sunglasses weren’t around my neck. Or on my hat. Or in the backseat, or my gear bag. Nope, as we left we both heard a strange thump that sounded strangely like something fell off the back bumper. Indeed something did.
I would have been really upset about losing a nice pair of sunglasses and a sweet set of croakies if this hadn’t happened before. Pretty much exactly the same thing too. The next pair I get is going to be glued to my hat.
Whatever we did to piss off the gods must have been something pretty bad.
Regardless of the troubles, Shane did manage to get some good pictures. Enjoy.
