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| Geoff? Outside? Doing things? I know. I'm not comfortable with this either. |
Last Friday I got a call from my brother Branden wondering what I had planned for that Sunday.
"Nuthin,'" I said. "Except for a big date with Little Big Planet my schedule is wide open."
"Oh good," he said. "Then you can go fishing with Dad and me."
"By jove," I cried. "That sounds splendiferous!"
(Geoff's note: I don't actually remember what was said, and some aspects of this conversation may have been enhanced for dramatic effect).
(Geoff's note 2: I have never been fishing before. Ever.)
The Columbia River, for those who haven't been, is an interesting place. It's packed with fellow boaters and fishermen, as well as gigantic cargo ships from all over the world.
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| This is CNN. |
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| "This salmon, swallow you whole." |
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| "Sometimes that salmon he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a salmon... he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes. When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living... until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then... ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'..." |
It was bitingly cold, and it poured for almost the entire nine hour excursion.
And to make matters worse, there weren't even any fish and hardly any bites.
UNTIL....
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| "♫ ba dum... ba dum... ♫" |
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| "Two barrels, and he's going down again!" |
We fought for hours, he and I, in a test of will between two masters of their element. Neither willing to give up an inch in their struggle for dominance about a minute and a half. This was the first fish I had ever caught, and I had no idea what I was doing. But in the end, the winner prevailed.
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| "Smile you son of a..." |
Fishing in the cold and the rain wasn't really my thing, but it's hard to deny the results: He was the only fish the three of us were able to catch, and he was all mine.
And he was tasty.
Very, extremely, super-dee-dooper tasty.
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