Fishing and hunting success
Sooo…..you like to hunt and fish. I, in a rare mood of co-operation, I am going to share some of the most important fishing and hunting secrets of a seasoned hunter and master mariner. I’ve been warned that this is a grave mistake. As any sportsman knows, you don’t generally share your secrets with your peers, but my friends have told me these secrets are OK to share. They are telling me that they will benefit not only the sportsman, but even more the local economy. So I feel an obligation as an accomplished veteran, to give a hand up to the novice and the moderately successful as well as our local economies. So here goes……
To be the most successful sportsman you must recognize the three golden rules:
First and foremost to be successful in the field you must spend a lot of MONEY. The more you spend, the higher your chances of success, odd as it sounds, it appears to be one of the laws of the universe, like gravity
Second, its important to get wet, injured or injure someone else, get stuck in the mud, preferably with your car or even better with your wife’s car. Get lost, lose something of value or forget your fishing or hunting license. Any or all of these conditions in any combination will produce fish or game.
Thirdly…it has to be dangerous and you have to go farther afield than your peers
OK….first, you must spend a lot of money. I never really appreciated this fact as I never had that much money to test the theory and I balked at how the spending of money and the catching of fish were somehow related. However, as I continued to put this theory to the test it became apparent that the law of fish and game was to spend, spend, spend. I know what you’re thinking…how can this be? Well, whenever I go to a sportsman show, all the experts promise success if I buy their products, all of them. Here is another example; fish will not bite on last year’s fishing tackle. No, they want something with a little more zing this year. Last years $40 diver, flasher, lure combination is useless. Somehow, the tackle manufacturers pick up on the likes and dislikes of the next generation of fish. It’s fascinating how they do it. I coaxed the amazing procedure out of a particular vendor wearing a lab apron at the sportsman show. “First you have to have this years adult salmon in a test tank” he instructed, “then you take your offering, in this case my latest… snag-a-goober lure, then you take a tuning fork,” he went on, “strike it against the tank and place the end of it in the water, then you monitor the hydrodynamic sound waves with a electronic device that I can’t tell you about”, Oh man I thought to myself, I almost had the secret, “You see”, he continued, “When the fish get mad, they produce a peculiar sub-sonic sound that only my electronic device will detect.”
“Man is you smart! ” I blurted out, cleverly trying to appeal to his vanity, “How did you ever learn this?”
“Well actually” he went on, “from some guys who ran a circus in Brooklyn NY”. That’s amazing I though, there isn’t even any fish in Brooklyn. “OK” I said, quickly sobering up to the situation, “How many snag-a-goobers do you have on hand?”
“Well, lets see” as he fumbled through his tackle.
“Which color works the best” I fired.
“Well….my team and I have done a lot of extensive testing and we have found that they all work”.
To make a long story short and not to brag about my prowess, I bought every snag-a-goober he had, enough to last this year’s salmon season, so long as my youngest son goes on to college. He can really eat up the tackle.
So, as I gained more money in the business realm, I became more and more successful in the sportsman‘s realm. It wasn’t long until all my peers were enamored with my lusty stories of outboard sized fish and monster elk as I consistently out spent them. They all seemed content enough to let me buy everything, tackle, bait, food, fuel, boat launch fees, etc. Foolish fellows that they are, they often would ignore my tips for success. “Just buy the bait and see if your luck doesn’t change” I would coach, the whole time trying to see them successful. “No thanks” they would reply, packing a load of Twinkies to the cashier. I’d pull my checkbook out, once again insuring my success.
Oddly enough, my wife does not share my theory, though I’ve tried to teach her how it works. However, to her credit, she has not participated in any of my experiments and therefore does not have any basis to make a clear judgment. Besides…. I have noticed that women are a little slow to grasp the gravity of such things. It is better left to a man’s comprehension. I shutter to think that all my friends might have some sort of feminine trait that won’t let them see the truth of it, poor fellows, but still, they love to go with me, in my wife’s car, in my boat, with all my gear.
My youngest son is beginning to get the hang of it. Last salmon season he managed to get $145.00 worth of my gear on his one line. He had two spreaders plus a main line, all with flashers, divers, lures, sinkers and half a dozen anchovies, in 10 feet of water, which he promptly hung on the bottom; it looked like a little school of sardines in a circus. “Way to go” I said proudly, “but it works best if you buy your own tackle.” Try as I might……my youngest son is influenced by my friends and continues to let me catch all the fish, but that’s the way it is with fathers and sons, they will listen to others but dismiss sound instruction from their own fathers. “Forget college” I tell him, “you are bound for greatness, you have a gift that belongs to sportsmen everywhere, get a job flipping burgers so you can buy some fishing gear, and get on with your destiny”.
“OK, let’s go back to the tackle shop, perhaps Leroy has some snag-a-goobers like I bought at the sportsman show.” Leroy owns the tackle shop in town and he thinks I am quite the angler. He brightens up every time he sees me, hoping to get a little fishing or hunting tip no doubt. I slipped once and told him my secret and amazingly, he too believes in spending the most, we became instant friends.
Now, let me infuse a word of caution. When and if the day comes that you become a master mariner, such as my self, you must be aware of the responsibility that comes with great success. You cannot, and should not, bring home everything you catch. First off there is a state imposed limit, and second, it would be blasphemous to haul every catch home. Humility goes a long way with unsuccessful friends. There are times that I will throw everything back, recognizing that I alone could completely decimate the fish stock in my area. Instead I will swing by Kevin’s fish market on the way home and buy a few salmon filets to take home, discarding the packaging, so I won‘t arouse suspicion in my wife. I see Kevin fairly often and he too is a fisherman, he highly respects my integrity and shares my concern with catching too many fish. We became instant friends.
Now, another word of caution. Don’t expect too much of yourself at first. Remember, it has taken me many years to amass all this wisdom; these lessons don’t come over night.
Now, about your hunting and/or fishing trip. I will first cite a few examples. I used to fish at this particular lake, where I would be clamored upon for which fly to use or for my famous bait preparation techniques. I would put in at the north end of the lake with a full tank of gas and then immediately open the throttle to get to the south end of the lake, 23 miles away, (remember rule number three, you must travel the farthest and it should be dangerous), at about a half a mile to the gallon I would burn almost 50 gallons, probably spending a sufficient amount of money and effort to make my fishing trip successful. Now, I tried putting in at the south end of the lake and fishing the south end with no success at all, my wife’s suggestion, remember, she has no understanding whatever in the scientific data collected.
It wasn’t long before my fame around this secret lake became legendary. The fuel station owner, Pikeman, and I became instant friends as he, like Kevin and Leroy, believed in my “spending the most” theory. I would share little tidbits of my success now and then, the poor man treated me like the president, embarrassing really. Each morning all the fishermen would follow me, first to Pikeman’s station to fill up and then to the launch. We would all race from the north marina down to the south end of the lake and about half way across the lake we all would wave at the fellows speeding north from the south marina. A harried few moments to be sure. No one backing off the throttle and a few near misses I can recall, but it was all done in a manly fashion, a hundred boats passing each other wildly mid-lake with one hand on the wheel as we waved at one another with approval. It was really never a race for me as I was trying to burn the maximum amount of fuel, pitiful that all the others could not contain their childish behavior of wanting to be first to the fishing hole and never really seeming to grasp the big picture, quite a mystery to me. They all thought I had the biggest engine so I could outrun them, that’s not it; it was so I could burn the most fuel. How they continue to miss it I cannot understand, I have stated the theory plainly, it’s like they are all stupid or something.
Another time I was Chinook fishing for springers on the Columbia River. There were hundreds of boats on the river, all fishing the Oregon side of the river. I suddenly needed to relieve myself and at the same time realized I wasn’t spending enough money, so I sped out to the Washington side of the river to take a leak and to burn off some fuel. Just as I finished I heard my radio squawk “Hey, Jess is headed for the other side”, and within 10 minutes nearly every boat on the river was in a mad rush to the Washington side and there was a great bite that lasted for hours. Naturally everyone thanked me and showered me with compliments and would try to intellectually wrestle the wisdom out of me, but I was too smart for them, “how did you know” they would beg. Well now you know.
Sooo….the secret is out, bulk up your bank account, get your marriage in good standing and watch the trophies pile up. The fish will just jump into your boat if you spend enough, and you will get retarded blind elk in your camp. You will become a legend and always have plenty of friends who will fight at the chance to go with you.
Coveting your smile
Jess
