FISHING WITH FROG…again
|Frog, Catfish, Cranky, Marty (out of action this year)|
After a two year (I think) layoff, I am returning once again to the annual Western Maryland fishing trip. If you are a glutton for punishment or a big time fly fishing fan, my previous posts relating to this event are here:
I have stayed away the last two years for two reasons.
1. I was too fat to fish. I know that is Artie Lange’s book title, but it applies to fly fishing, you have to be in at least fair shape for this activity.
2. And (You need to read this in a Seinfeldian "Hello Newman!" way)… “Catfish!” “Catfish” is also known as Roy or FTD for Fish until Dark because when there is a hatch he will FTD. I am fished out by 5pm, Roy will fish until 9pm while I hang around the stream like a whiney little bitch and make all the true fisherman miserable.
Anyway, I’ve lost a few pounds and am ready to fish, or what passes for fishing, and I have been assured that Catfish is getting too old to FTD. No; and I didn’t buy that bridge to Brooklyn either, but with GPS I can take a second car to the stream and find my way back to the cabin all by my big boy self if I have to.
So I will undoubtedly be posting about this trip. For those of you who care to follow here is a list of characters:
Bill to many, Mr. Douwes to neighborhood five year olds, Frog to us, is an almost retired Teacher/ Public Relation Specialist/ Police -Computer Crime Predictor. Except for my Dad, my brothers, and Frog’s Dad, Frog is the smartest person I’ve ever known. He knows something about any subject. Frog even knows stuff about stuff he knows nothing about. As an expert on everything from mountain climbing to playing the bagpipes, Frog is an expert fly fisherman.
Mr. GUY (No Picture available)
Al to many, Mr. Guy to neighborhood five years olds, Mr. Guy to us, is the owner of the cabin by the lake where we stay. He is the owner; that is why he is Mr. Guy. Sometimes we just yell “Hey Guy!” Mr. Guy is an outdoorsman/ graphic artist/ semi hippie. He is also known as “Friend of Frog.” Frog has a friend anywhere he needs a place to stay. All across this country there are Motel 6’s and there are also “Friends of Frog.” Frog has never paid to stay anywhere in this country. Mr. Guy is an expert fly fisherman.
Gilbert to many, Mr. Shill to neighborhood five year olds, Buddy to us, is a lawyer who refuses to retire. Buddy has been on this trip for five years. He started as a fly fishing newbie, but as a bulldog who throws himself into anything he does, he is by now an expert fly fisherman.
Roy to many, Mr. Miller to neighborhood five year olds, Catfish to us, is a retired Delaware Fish and Games person. He might have been a big shot in this field…I think he was. Catfish has been fly fishing since he could walk. He always catches fish. Compared to Catfish, those above are total amateurs. He is a great guy, but at 8:00 pm, after fishing since 10 am, I call him,
“CATFISH!!” (Once again, think Seinfeld and ‘Newman!’.”)
Joe to many, Hey You to neighborhood five year olds, Hog Jowls to all of the above, Jerk to my wife and Cranky to blog readers, is not a fly fisherman. If I do catch anything, I squeal like a little girl and ruin the stream for everyone else. I have only the equipment that Frog allows me to borrow. I have lost a fly rod, broken a fly rod, and I can find my way from the stream to our car by following the flies I’ve snagged in the trees. I am not a fly fishing expert. I am only invited because I tell Frog I like the bagpipes…I don’t.
That is the cast of characters. I hope you enjoy the posts that follow.