A story of lost and found

A story of lost and found.

An old friend of mine was out fishing yesterday, having spent the night at a lodge on a small lake. He borrowed one of their small boats and went out fly fishing. The lake is a stocked lake and the lodge plants some rather nice sized trout. He would cast out the line and then slowly row the boat. Due to some recent neck injuries he couldn’t do a lot of casting. The boat was not set up for fishing, meaning no rod holders, but he felt that with the rod between his feet then draped over the back of the boat there would be no problems.

I believe you can see where this is going. Yep, a big trout grabbed his Woolly Bugger and took off. He said the fly rod flipped out of the boat so fast he never had a chance to even try to grab for it. He sat there for a second, watching his line, rod and reel gliding through the top of the water at a very decent speed. He started rowing trying to catch up to the rod but the fish was moving faster than he could.

Finally the rod stopped moving and he was able to get up alongside of it and grab it prior to it sinking. He brought the rod up and found the fish was still hooked so he brought the fish in and released it.

I was laughing so hard by this time that I forgot to ask him how big the fish was, but I am sure it was a very good sized trout.

He was one lucky man.

Larry :smiley: —sagefisher—

Larry -

Great story. Maybe that’s why we use cork for the grip ??

Thanks for the tale.

John

No way!!

Now that is a cool story.

Sage, that reminds me of a story my great uncle told me when I was just a kid starting to fish in the south carolina low country. We were sitting around a family gathering and the old men were telling tall tales about fishing and hunting an the younger boys were sitting around wide eyed listening.

Uncle Johnny told of the time he was fishing for LM bass with a cane pole and popper bug in black river and Uncle Warren was paddling. A huge bass came up and engulfed the bug and Uncle Johnny realizing he would never land the fish with the cane pole figured the only way to land him was to just tire him out. Well hell, as he said he just proceeded to jump out the boat with the cane pole and float a mile down the river fighting that bass with Uncle Warren fast behind in the boat. Well he finally nudged that bass up on a sandbar and he and Uncle Warren took it to get it weighted, 11.5 lbs.

Man Uncle Johnny was never so big in my eyes until fifteen years later I was told it was a fish tale, I guess those are the kind of things that give fishermen the good natured liar reputation.