TR: Fishin' With Mr. Miller (It's all in the planning) SWL

It was Sunday mornin', Oct. 5, 2003--I think?-- that I approached Mr. Jeff
Miller. I said, "I sure am glad to see ya, as I need a fishin' buddy that
can hike into some difficult to get to waters" (or words to that effect).
Not knockin' anyone at the 'Clave, at all, but the waters I like to fish can
be difficult at best and down right dangerous for some--myself
included!--but Mr. Miller is, shall I say, expendable. Knowin' Jeff's
penchant for fishin' the more remote stretches of wild trout waters in our
fine state, I figured that we'd be in agreement on just about any stream.

Well Mr. Miller says, "I figure we'd fish from the ***** Trail to the
falls." Jeff goes on to say that the had fished that very same stretch
before. So I say, "GREAT!" We agreed that we'd head out on Wed. morning.
Plannin' complete.

I arrived at the campgrounds at about 7:15 AM on Wed. morn, after a hard
Tuesday of *hiking* durin' the day and drinkin' durin' the eve (another
story, for another time that no one wants to hear). After havin' a
complimentary cup of coffee, I was asked whether I was going to jaw or fish?
I beat a hasty retreat for my truck, and we were off up the mountain. We
dropped Jeff's truck at the take-out and proceeded to the put-in. We
arrived streamside around eightish or so. Jeff began catchin' fish right
away on a dry fly--don't recall the name though. I had tied on a fairly
bushy thing that didn't seem to impress the trout. I tied on another fly
and still no trout, and Mr. Miller continued to catch fish at will. Finally
Mr. Miller suggested that I tie on a parachute Adams. The parachute Adams
was going to be my next choice, but I decided to let Mr. Miller believe that
he had pick out the perfect fly for me. Now we were both catchin' fish, and
in just about ever pool, riffle, run and ....

We were catchin' rainbows and browns, just one after another. I was
constantly changin' flys, as the parachute Adams was destroyed over time and
I had caught a number of trees too. I am very thankful that I practice
catch and release, as I doubt that I could have gotten all them trees in
just one creel. Most of the trout, caught, were in the six to nine inch
range, but Jeff seemed to be missin' a great many trophy size trout. I
never saw any of them mind ya, but accordin' to Jeff, "damn! that was a big
one too!" If Jeff had caught all the fish that he missed, he'd have had a
Guinness World's Record for certain. Regardless he is a legend and nemesis
to the trout the world over.

Well enuff about Jeff's prowess as a trout stalker, let me just fill y'all
in on his knowledge of streams. If Jeff ever says, "lets fish up to the
falls." Run far, run fast! That worthless no account don't know a falls
from spittle. We had fish a goodly part of the day, congradulatin' one
another on the choice of stream, fish caught, selection of fishin' partners,
choice of gum chewed, music, beer, more beer, women conquered, and just
about anything else that came to mind. It's amazin' how chummy fellas can
get, when catchin' one trout after another all day long. Jeff wondered out
loud several times how far we might be from the falls, but as I had never
fished this stretch of water that far up I hadn't a clue, and neither did
MR. MILLER! We came to a beautiful pool and after Jeff had taken about ten
fish from it he said, "I believe the falls are just around the next bend."
(or words to that effect) I stated that I didn't think so, because I had
been to the falls before--just not via this particular route--and this
water--well actually the size of the rocks, or should a say, more
accurately, the boulders!-- didn't look anything like the the falls I had
been to. We got around the bend and Jeff says, "there they are." And I
say, "there what are? The falls Jeff says. We were lookin' at a cascade of
water over a couple of very large rocks--note: very large rocks should
never be confused with extremely large BOULDERS! Very large rocks are the
size of a Chevy Suburban, or even a small house, but extremely large
BOULDERS are the size of two and three story buildings, if not gi-normouser.

Needless to say, we are both a bit perplexed, not knowin' exactly how much
further we must travel before we actually reach the *real* falls. For some
reason Jeff's got it into his head that we would know the trail out by the
appearance of one particularly large boulder on the left-side of the stream
and a pool that held a large rock in the middle that lesbians like to neck
on during the warm summer months. I have no idea where he got this notion,
but I must say it didn't sound all that bad to me. I kept searchin' the
stream for the island of Lesbo, all for naught though. Eventually, it
became abundantly clear, if we were going to know that we had arrived at the
take-out trail by identifying *one* particularly large boulder, we were in
serious trouble. Apparently, one of us was confused about the location of
this particularly large boulder, and it was finally determined that *that*
boulder was actually down the stream from where we had put-in (I can't
reveal which of us was confused, but I bet Jeff will have somethin' to say
on the subject, eventually).

It was gettin' late and Jeff, being afraid of the dark, was anxious to get
back to his truck. Around 4:30 PM we decided to just hike on up stream and
find the falls. We came to some gi-normous BOULDERS. We had to climb
mountain ridges just to get around many of these impediments to forward
progress. Jeff asked, " do ya think there are any more of these we'll have
to climb over?" I said, "**** IF I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!" We got over the next
gi-normous BOULDER and as far as the eye could see past the next GI-NORMOUS
BOULDER was another GI-NORNOUS BOULDER! We past up some of the most
beautiful water that I have ever laid eyes on, but we didn't dare stop to
fish, for fear that no-light would close-in around us. Well no-light was
closin' in fast! I told Jeff that I would hike up the ridge a bit and see
if I could find a trail. Jeff, fearin' that I was about to abandon him
began sobbin' uncontrollably. I promised not to leave him and that I would
be back in a minute or two. I told him just to fish the pretty pool in
front of him. That was like placin' a pacifier in his mouth. Jeff went to
castin' and I went off in search of a dream. Eureka! There was a trail,
but unfortunately, it led right back to the stream of BOULDERS! I boulder
hopped back down the stream to just above Jeff and made bear noises. Jeff
promptly pulled a 13 or so inch trout from the water and said, "did ya find
the trail?" I replied in the negative and Jeff hoisted his trout for me to
see. "Yeah, that's great Jeff. Now, let's get the **** outta here!" We
finally climbed to the top of this lithosphereic growth and I thought that I
recognized the falls. I was so relieved, until I realized that it was just
another very large section of exposed bedrock with water flowing from the
top to the bottom. We, finally, decided on which side of the really big
rock we would climb, and proceeded up.

Standin' on the top I happend to recognize my whereabouts. We were at the
take-out! I was so thankful, until we began the climb out of the GORGE!
Jeff remark that the only thing he could see on the way out was the white
cap on the water-bottle I was guardin' with the last ounce of strength I
possessed. Of course Jeff was wearin' a pair of sunglasses, go figure? I
would recount our ever step up the switch-back trail, it was painful enuff
the first time that I just can't bear to go over it again. I'd also tell ya
how I had left my headlights on all day and returned to a dead battery, then
I could tell ya how I had a voice mail message from my boss that said I
needed to be in at work by 6:00 AM in the morn and that when I got out to my
truck this morn that I had left the dome light on all night and the battery
was dead again, or how I found Mr. Millers rod tube in the back of the truck
this morn while lookin' for the jumper cables, or that I am now workin' 12
hour days and won't be able to attend the rest of the 'Clave, but that would
just bring tears to too many eyes. It did mine!

Op --Jeff call me and I will mail your rod tube back to ya. BTW, I'm
stickin' to my version of the daze events, unless Mr. Miller threatens
litigation!--

"Guyz-N-Flyz" wrote in message
.. .

Oh yeah, we got back to his truck at 7:30 PM!

Op --goin' to bed now--

On Thu, 9 Oct 2003 19:37:13 -0400, "Guyz-N-Flyz"
wrote:

A gi-normously amusing TR.

g.c.

Great Report.....Glad to see you got Mr Miller on the proper trail out as we
need him at Penns so we can get into the Sportsmans Club good food for sure
might join my own self ifn youse is gonna keep Mr. Miller lost all the time


Handyman Mike
Standing in a river waving a stick

though you've rewrit the odyssean event in critical parts, especially as
concerns my heroic efforts assisting you in catching some fish and in
extracting us from a certain wet and dark injury, it surely was pleasant
and productive fishing in beautiful surroundings.

btw, the last fish of the day - a 13" blue ridge wild brown - was caught
on a fly i acquired in montana while at another roff gathering.

jeff

ps - send rod tube to 2510 east tenth street, greenville, nc 27858. thanks!!

Guyz-N-Flyz wrote:

It was Sunday mornin', Oct. 5, 2003--I think?-- that I approached Mr. Jeff
Miller. I said, "I sure am glad to see ya, as I need a fishin' buddy that
can hike into some difficult to get to waters" (or words to that effect).
Not knockin' anyone at the 'Clave, at all, but the waters I like to fish can
be difficult at best and down right dangerous for some--myself
included!--but Mr. Miller is, shall I say, expendable. Knowin' Jeff's
penchant for fishin' the more remote stretches of wild trout waters in our
fine state, I figured that we'd be in agreement on just about any stream.

Well Mr. Miller says, "I figure we'd fish from the ***** Trail to the
falls." Jeff goes on to say that the had fished that very same stretch
before. So I say, "GREAT!" We agreed that we'd head out on Wed. morning.
Plannin' complete.

I arrived at the campgrounds at about 7:15 AM on Wed. morn, after a hard
Tuesday of *hiking* durin' the day and drinkin' durin' the eve (another
story, for another time that no one wants to hear). After havin' a
complimentary cup of coffee, I was asked whether I was going to jaw or fish?
I beat a hasty retreat for my truck, and we were off up the mountain. We
dropped Jeff's truck at the take-out and proceeded to the put-in. We
arrived streamside around eightish or so. Jeff began catchin' fish right
away on a dry fly--don't recall the name though. I had tied on a fairly
bushy thing that didn't seem to impress the trout. I tied on another fly
and still no trout, and Mr. Miller continued to catch fish at will. Finally
Mr. Miller suggested that I tie on a parachute Adams. The parachute Adams
was going to be my next choice, but I decided to let Mr. Miller believe that
he had pick out the perfect fly for me. Now we were both catchin' fish, and
in just about ever pool, riffle, run and ....

We were catchin' rainbows and browns, just one after another. I was
constantly changin' flys, as the parachute Adams was destroyed over time and
I had caught a number of trees too. I am very thankful that I practice
catch and release, as I doubt that I could have gotten all them trees in
just one creel. Most of the trout, caught, were in the six to nine inch
range, but Jeff seemed to be missin' a great many trophy size trout. I
never saw any of them mind ya, but accordin' to Jeff, "damn! that was a big
one too!" If Jeff had caught all the fish that he missed, he'd have had a
Guinness World's Record for certain. Regardless he is a legend and nemesis
to the trout the world over.

Well enuff about Jeff's prowess as a trout stalker, let me just fill y'all
in on his knowledge of streams. If Jeff ever says, "lets fish up to the
falls." Run far, run fast! That worthless no account don't know a falls
from spittle. We had fish a goodly part of the day, congradulatin' one
another on the choice of stream, fish caught, selection of fishin' partners,
choice of gum chewed, music, beer, more beer, women conquered, and just
about anything else that came to mind. It's amazin' how chummy fellas can
get, when catchin' one trout after another all day long. Jeff wondered out
loud several times how far we might be from the falls, but as I had never
fished this stretch of water that far up I hadn't a clue, and neither did
MR. MILLER! We came to a beautiful pool and after Jeff had taken about ten
fish from it he said, "I believe the falls are just around the next bend."
(or words to that effect) I stated that I didn't think so, because I had
been to the falls before--just not via this particular route--and this
water--well actually the size of the rocks, or should a say, more
accurately, the boulders!-- didn't look anything like the the falls I had
been to. We got around the bend and Jeff says, "there they are." And I
say, "there what are? The falls Jeff says. We were lookin' at a cascade of
water over a couple of very large rocks--note: very large rocks should
never be confused with extremely large BOULDERS! Very large rocks are the
size of a Chevy Suburban, or even a small house, but extremely large
BOULDERS are the size of two and three story buildings, if not gi-normouser.

Needless to say, we are both a bit perplexed, not knowin' exactly how much
further we must travel before we actually reach the *real* falls. For some
reason Jeff's got it into his head that we would know the trail out by the
appearance of one particularly large boulder on the left-side of the stream
and a pool that held a large rock in the middle that lesbians like to neck
on during the warm summer months. I have no idea where he got this notion,
but I must say it didn't sound all that bad to me. I kept searchin' the
stream for the island of Lesbo, all for naught though. Eventually, it
became abundantly clear, if we were going to know that we had arrived at the
take-out trail by identifying *one* particularly large boulder, we were in
serious trouble. Apparently, one of us was confused about the location of
this particularly large boulder, and it was finally determined that *that*
boulder was actually down the stream from where we had put-in (I can't
reveal which of us was confused, but I bet Jeff will have somethin' to say
on the subject, eventually).

It was gettin' late and Jeff, being afraid of the dark, was anxious to get
back to his truck. Around 4:30 PM we decided to just hike on up stream and
find the falls. We came to some gi-normous BOULDERS. We had to climb
mountain ridges just to get around many of these impediments to forward
progress. Jeff asked, " do ya think there are any more of these we'll have
to climb over?" I said, "**** IF I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!" We got over the next
gi-normous BOULDER and as far as the eye could see past the next GI-NORMOUS
BOULDER was another GI-NORNOUS BOULDER! We past up some of the most
beautiful water that I have ever laid eyes on, but we didn't dare stop to
fish, for fear that no-light would close-in around us. Well no-light was
closin' in fast! I told Jeff that I would hike up the ridge a bit and see
if I could find a trail. Jeff, fearin' that I was about to abandon him
began sobbin' uncontrollably. I promised not to leave him and that I would
be back in a minute or two. I told him just to fish the pretty pool in
front of him. That was like placin' a pacifier in his mouth. Jeff went to
castin' and I went off in search of a dream. Eureka! There was a trail,
but unfortunately, it led right back to the stream of BOULDERS! I boulder
hopped back down the stream to just above Jeff and made bear noises. Jeff
promptly pulled a 13 or so inch trout from the water and said, "did ya find
the trail?" I replied in the negative and Jeff hoisted his trout for me to
see. "Yeah, that's great Jeff. Now, let's get the **** outta here!" We
finally climbed to the top of this lithosphereic growth and I thought that I
recognized the falls. I was so relieved, until I realized that it was just
another very large section of exposed bedrock with water flowing from the
top to the bottom. We, finally, decided on which side of the really big
rock we would climb, and proceeded up.

Standin' on the top I happend to recognize my whereabouts. We were at the
take-out! I was so thankful, until we began the climb out of the GORGE!
Jeff remark that the only thing he could see on the way out was the white
cap on the water-bottle I was guardin' with the last ounce of strength I
possessed. Of course Jeff was wearin' a pair of sunglasses, go figure? I
would recount our ever step up the switch-back trail, it was painful enuff
the first time that I just can't bear to go over it again. I'd also tell ya
how I had left my headlights on all day and returned to a dead battery, then
I could tell ya how I had a voice mail message from my boss that said I
needed to be in at work by 6:00 AM in the morn and that when I got out to my
truck this morn that I had left the dome light on all night and the battery
was dead again, or how I found Mr. Millers rod tube in the back of the truck
this morn while lookin' for the jumper cables, or that I am now workin' 12
hour days and won't be able to attend the rest of the 'Clave, but that would
just bring tears to too many eyes. It did mine!

Op --Jeff call me and I will mail your rod tube back to ya. BTW, I'm
stickin' to my version of the daze events, unless Mr. Miller threatens
litigation!--

"Guyz-N-Flyz" wrote...
It was Sunday mornin', Oct. 5, 2003--I think?
snip

That was a fun story. It was a story, right?
--
TL,
Tim
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

Great report. I can relate to boulders and gorges.

C'mon Jeff and tell us what MT fly it was!

bruce h

"Guyz-N-Flyz" wrote in message
.. .
It was Sunday mornin', Oct. 5, 2003--I think

That was a fun read!
Thanks!

/Roger

Guyz-N-Flyz wrote:
some supub snipage

Great TR, Op. Thanks.

Russell

Guyz-N-Flyz wrote: wonderful tale snipped

i tried to warn you guyz.... ;-)

--wally... hopin' SWL doesn't mean "shoot wally low"