ausablebrown
Well-known member
It is often not the fishing that offers the most memorable details of our fishing trips. Chance encounters with wildlife, other anglers, weather, and sometimes even the fish leave us with some raucusly entertaining stories. Feel free to share your funny encounters here! I will start with the story of:
"Goldie the Kleptomaniac"
We had just finished breakfast at the Lone Pine Diner in Grayling MI and made our way to the small cul-de-sac parking lot at the end of one of the the sandy dirt roads that leads to the banks of the Holy Waters. We got out and began shed a few superflous layers that were needed to sleep under the stars in April up there. We would no longer need them as the mercury was now creeping into the lower 50's and the sun was peeking through a little. As we undressed we noticed a Golden Retriever gingerly wading out towards us and then finally, engaging in a full swim traversed the slow moving pool and ambled his way up onto the bank. He doddled over, said hello, recieved a few rubs on the neck and then just seemed to loiter for a bit around us and the car. We had kind of lost track of him while we were swapping out jackets, and wool sweaters for waders and vests. We really had no reason to keep tabs on him, or at least we thought.
The next thing you know, we heard a huge splash! Suddenly the slow moving old retriever had made a sporting dogs dive off the bank and into the pool, and hanging from his mouth was my brothers LL Bean wool sweater! We both dashed and stumbled, my brother still only in his stockingfoots , jockeying for position and managed to flank him and drive him back to our shore. That was not the end however. He hunkered down in the tall grass, half laying on the sweater, and placed a lumberjacks grip on it with his jaws. After about 5 minutes of "no, drop, give" and finally some mild ear twisting he surrendered the booty. He immediately left sulking and made his way back across the stream as though he had been defeated at his own game. It was mildly annoying, but it was also rather cute. It's pretty hard to get upset with a Golden Retriever.
Two days later we returned to the same sandy cul-de-sac to wade the opposite direction this time. We hoofed it upstream about 1/2 of a mile and then entered the water to fish our way back. We had nearly finished our wade when we heard some ruckus coming from the far bank through the thicket. As is often the case, the truth is stranger than fiction; Goldie was at it again! We heard the men yelling back and forth, saw them rapidly bushwacking a path in pursuit of the swiftly moving golden. We never did see what he had pilfered this time, or get a chance to talk with the other anglers. They were in hot pursuit away from us when we saw them.
It was quite an encounter, and it will be remembered long after I have fotgotten every fish from that day. We were a little annoyed during our encounter, but could not hold back the boistrous laughter when it was happening to someone else. Perhaps Goldie was working alone and had a rather pricey stash of fishing gear and clothing buried, or perhaps he was someone's "Oliver Twist"?
Please share your stories, it will distract me from watching the calendar...67 days to mayflies...
"Goldie the Kleptomaniac"
We had just finished breakfast at the Lone Pine Diner in Grayling MI and made our way to the small cul-de-sac parking lot at the end of one of the the sandy dirt roads that leads to the banks of the Holy Waters. We got out and began shed a few superflous layers that were needed to sleep under the stars in April up there. We would no longer need them as the mercury was now creeping into the lower 50's and the sun was peeking through a little. As we undressed we noticed a Golden Retriever gingerly wading out towards us and then finally, engaging in a full swim traversed the slow moving pool and ambled his way up onto the bank. He doddled over, said hello, recieved a few rubs on the neck and then just seemed to loiter for a bit around us and the car. We had kind of lost track of him while we were swapping out jackets, and wool sweaters for waders and vests. We really had no reason to keep tabs on him, or at least we thought.
The next thing you know, we heard a huge splash! Suddenly the slow moving old retriever had made a sporting dogs dive off the bank and into the pool, and hanging from his mouth was my brothers LL Bean wool sweater! We both dashed and stumbled, my brother still only in his stockingfoots , jockeying for position and managed to flank him and drive him back to our shore. That was not the end however. He hunkered down in the tall grass, half laying on the sweater, and placed a lumberjacks grip on it with his jaws. After about 5 minutes of "no, drop, give" and finally some mild ear twisting he surrendered the booty. He immediately left sulking and made his way back across the stream as though he had been defeated at his own game. It was mildly annoying, but it was also rather cute. It's pretty hard to get upset with a Golden Retriever.
Two days later we returned to the same sandy cul-de-sac to wade the opposite direction this time. We hoofed it upstream about 1/2 of a mile and then entered the water to fish our way back. We had nearly finished our wade when we heard some ruckus coming from the far bank through the thicket. As is often the case, the truth is stranger than fiction; Goldie was at it again! We heard the men yelling back and forth, saw them rapidly bushwacking a path in pursuit of the swiftly moving golden. We never did see what he had pilfered this time, or get a chance to talk with the other anglers. They were in hot pursuit away from us when we saw them.
It was quite an encounter, and it will be remembered long after I have fotgotten every fish from that day. We were a little annoyed during our encounter, but could not hold back the boistrous laughter when it was happening to someone else. Perhaps Goldie was working alone and had a rather pricey stash of fishing gear and clothing buried, or perhaps he was someone's "Oliver Twist"?
Please share your stories, it will distract me from watching the calendar...67 days to mayflies...
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