Fishing, fishing, and dinner with the Bakers
 

As planned, I arrived at Grandfather campgrounds between 8:00 and 8:30 this
morn. Though, I could have arrived a lot earlier, as John and Daribel had
been up since 4:00 AM. We chatted for a while before proceeding to one of
Wally's *old* favorite secret spots. I say *old* because I don't think he
stream fishes anymore, not since he got the Catawba Queen!

I had taken John to this same stream, the week of Thanksgiving 2004. On the
first outing, just up from the put-in, John had hooked into a football sized
trout so he was anxious to give Daribel a chance at a similar experience.
Unfortunately, it wasn't to be. Fishin' was, extremely, slow all day long.
The water was murky, the sky was overcast, early on, but cleared before
noon. Daribel is quite the fly-fisher. Which is more than I can say for
that worthless POS Asadi! John, being the sorry individual that he is, had
me cart him around on the ATV most of the morn. Up and down the stream we
went. He had me stop at all the best holes, before Daribel had a chance to
hit them! Luckily, for Daribel, we had to high-tail it back to the vehicles
as the game warden closed in on us. We rendezvoused with Daribel several
hours later on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I didn't think she ever hike the
seven miles through the forest, much less find the appointed rendezvous
point, but she did.

Anyway, we decided to fish the section of Boone's Fork off the BRP. Once
again fishin' was slow. We fished from the pull-off almost all the way up
to the bridge on the BRP that traverses Boone's Fork. The water on Boone's
Fork is crystal clear and the trout spook easily. I caught one trout and
was sittin' on my ass 40' away from my fly. Now 40' may not sound like much
to you big water fishers, but in these parts, 40' might as well be a mile.
Mountain laurel, water cascading over large boulders, and twists and turns
in the stream make long casts most difficult.

I was surprised that we didn't see any rising trout, as bugs were ever
present. Mayflyz were ovipositing, midges were thick in the air, and the
water temp was around 53 degrees, according to John. We should have been
catchin' fish, except for the fact that they didn't wish to cooperate?

Fishin' complete, it was decided that John and Daribel owed me a good
restaurant meal, since they had only fed me giant hamburgers and cold-cut
sandwiches for the last two dayz. I recommended Outback Steakhouse, but
they wanted to eat at some dive with *valet* parking! I mean, HEY!, if they
can afford to drive all the way down here from Dayton, Ohio, you'd think
they could afford to buy me a decent meal at a decent restaurant! Alright,
we pull in the parking lot and parked our own cars, for god's sake. The guy
doesn't even bother to flag me down, in my '89 Toyota Tercel. What's up
with that? I had to walk 50' to the restaurant door, and then hold it open
for Daribel, as John had to run in and buy a Vodka Martini, before we were
even seated!

The dinner was fine except that they have no earthly idea what Bruscheta con
Pomodoro E. Basilico is! I gave them Forty's e-mail addy and told them to
send for the proper preparation methods. John had some sort of filleted
meat dish, Daribel had a fish of some kind (I think we had fished for it
most of the day?), and I had a very civilized Lasagna and a delightful sweet
iced tea with lemon wedge to drink. All in all it was a good meal, that is
until the check came. I begged John to pay for the meal and let me catch
the tip; BUT NOOOOOO, he wouldn't here of it. John and Daribel had to show
me what big shots they are by paying for everything--well except for the
hostess I tried to get to go home with me. She said she wouldn't go home
with me for a million dollars and I told her that I was working on my
second. She was brighter than I had given her credit for. She left with
the pot-washer!

For future reference: Any ROFFian willing to treat me in the manner I have
become accustom to, in the last two dayz, is welcome to contact me!

Thanks John and Daribel, I am a changed man!

Op