FoulHooked...(how'd that get there?)

As much as I hate to admit it, there are times when scouting is simply a foolish proposition. Aside from the standard tenets of locating fishy water and, in turn, fish, I subscribe to the beliefs that 1) the most enjoyable fishing is away from the crowds and 2) you should never leave fish to find fish. Naturally, these two beliefs are often at odds with each other, as crowded areas are usually so for a reason. How you resolve the situation in unknown territory under less than ideal conditions can make or break a trip. This is the story of how we (almost) broke it. "CAMERA! CAMERAAAAAA!" Day 1 of 9. I had just landed Fish 1 of the trip. I was beginning to ponder the potentially bad omen when I heard someone screaming a measurable distance downstream. "EDDIE! CAMERAAAAAH!" Sounded like some jackass asshat had hooked a fish and lost all common sense and courtesy. Took me a minute to remember my own name and realize Brian was into something decent and quite enthused abo

'B-mar gets to milk the bull.' It's approaching 11 PM on a Friday night and we have been on the road for over 5 hours so far. We got off the highway 40 minutes ago and seem to be doing circles through hill and field as the glow of Buffalo repeatedly brightens and wanes in the distance. Texts between driving parties are getting progressively antagonistic. 'I think the GPS is lost' 'It's 55 here...not 25...' 'These dairy farms all look the same...' 'Wait...these dairy farms are all the same...' 'Nah...we good.' And then I get the call... "Yo...yeah, we're almost there...we're still about 15 minutes out...we're crossing the river just down the road, thought you might want to take a look...yeah, we're still above the dam, but only a couple miles...alright, see you in a few." 200' below it's pitch black, but a glistening surface tells me it has started. To the right, at the bridge rail, is a sign. I s

...of what I see when I sleep... November 13-22, 2009...a week that will live in infamy. More to come....