It was a last minute trip. You know, the go to the grocery store to buy a tooth brush, sleep on your buddy’s couch, and borrow a pair of waders kind of trip. Austen, and I weren’t really planning on fishing this day, but we weren’t planning on not fishing either.
We were eating a burger and drinking a beer at a local watering hole. It was around 9:30 at night, and I found out I didn’t have to work the next day. So, we decided to go fish. We both made “the call” to our girlfriends. You know, the “Hey Babe, as it turns out I won’t be coming over tonight. Yeah, I’m going to go fish tomorrow”. Fortunately, they were both really okay with us randomly deciding to go fishing. I think that’s by design.
I knew this day on the water was going to be interesting. Any day on the water that starts the way this trip did is sure to be an adventure. We floated for a few hours, but the early morning was fairly cold so the fishing was pretty slow off the start. We were sitting in the boat talking, eating a sandwich, and drinking a beer when the day to decided to take a turn towards more interesting. Something fell out of the boat. At first we weren’t sure what. All of a sudden Austen jumped up to realize, it was his phone. Ouch.
We pulled over to anchor up. Trying to find a black iPhone in the middle of a river is probably worse odds than finding a needle in a haystack. Nonetheless we decided to take a look. After a half an hour of searching relentlessly we were about to give up, but then Austen spotted it tucked beside a rock on the bottom. Wow. He stayed there marking the spot, I walked over to grab the net and a long stick. He held the net below the phone, and I popped it up in the net with the stick. We walked back to the boat with his phone that still worked thanks to a waterproof case. Crazy. I mean you can’t even make this stuff up.
To cap things off, about an hour later Austen stuck a real good looking, healthy female brown trout. Fortunately she was quick to the net, we snapped a couple pictures, and off the fish went to hide away and sulk in the depths. A few more fish for each of us and the sun set ending another day well spent on the water.
For me, days like these are what it’s all about. Fish and stories like this are not easily forgotten. The very reasons why I could fish 8 days a week, and fly fishing will never get old. Do you have any good stories from last minutes trips?