Discussion in 'Fly Fishing Forum' started by Breck, Oct 31, 2013.
Wasnt it Dustin Bise who had a bad run of finding bodies whole fishing a couple years back?
I know John Farrar found a "floater" once. My neighbor was with him.
I seem to remember having some involvement in that incident....
A few years ago, a guy (Mr. Rxxxx) was being investigated for moving the river channel around with his bulldozer on the Sauk and it was all over the news. All of us in Pugetropolis were shiskabobbing the guy and he'd had enough of us city folk. They walked in a long ways to find me and made it real clear that I tell all my friends that they own the land all the way from the mill in Darrington to the bridge below the Suiattle. I had a long conversation with the guys back at my truck trying to explain myself and understand where they were coming from.
I didn't post it all over the boards because, in a way, I understood where he was coming from. Didn't agree with it but understood. Furthering the divide between us city slickers and people in the rural areas doesn't do anybody any good. Best that I was just respectful and opened a bit of a conversation with them. They've seen the onslaught of us fly flingers over the past couple decades who think we are God's gift all things environmental and they wanted to make a point. I wasn't on their land but was in their world.
very interesting pt thanks for the share
My closest "spooky" one was the time I hooked a sunken burlap bag that had a dead baby pig in it.
I remember that.
Fishing Puget Sound alone in a float tube at dusk.....legs dangling down over who knows what. I thought about it too much and ended up doing a bit of a panic paddle in....which made me think panicking would attract a predator more....which made me panic more. I was laying on shore panting with my belly boat still on my waist and I look up and see a guy sitting on a log smoking a pipe......he just said "The hell was all that about?"
That seriously made me laugh out loud.....because I've been there!
Except I was in a lake (I hate lakes), with murky water, and my leg bumped a log under the surface. Now, for most people, this would be no big deal, however, I am not most people. I conjured up all kinds of ideas on what that bump could have been...enough to make me "panic paddle" back to shore and promptly sell my float tube to my buddy for next to nothing. Haven't been in one since...and I still hate lakes.
I came across this years back on the upper Sol Duc, inside the national forest. Kinda spooked me alittle bit. It was pretty far off the beaten path. No one was home this visit. I went back the following summer and the winter flows had completely destroyed it all together, nothing remained.
Yup....I don't know if it is that my dad made me watch Jaws or Creature from the Black Lagoon when I was a kid or what, but there is nothing like that moment where it gets under your skin and you just loose all rational thought. I still laugh about it, and get chills. I can't even imagine what it looked like to watch.
There's one little lake in the middle of nowhere that always spooks me for some reason. I float the columbia all the time, even at night. Other high country lake don't spook me at all, even after dusk. But for some reason that lake always has, even in broad daylight. I think it has alot to do with being on the tip-top of mountain, in a crater. I always have visions of the beginning of that movie, Dante's Peak, where that lake starts boiling all of a sudden. Part of if may be that, though this is a very small, natural lake, I can't find bottom most places with 100 feet of anchor rope.
The only time I made it up there this year I found it barren(or appearing to be). First time ever I didn't get into very good sized 'bows. And to boot, I ended up sliding into the lake and getting stuck like chuck. No getting out without a winch. Luckily, for how far out I was, I managed to get cell service after only walking a half-mile. I was camping with my dad about 20 miles away, but he had enough knowledge of the area to find the place. No signs mark the road to this lake. If you didn't know any better, you'd just think it was another of dozens of dirt tracks identical to it.
Was fishing a small lake in NZ last year out of a Watermaster. Working my way down a shoreline with lots of downed timber. Thought I had run into a submerged log and moved off a bit. Then something bumped me again. Looked down to see an eel about 4 feet long trying to get a taste of my leg. Illogical but scared the stuffing out of me. Wouldn't leave me alone until I kicked it with a fin. Later deduced that I had put a hole in my waders and whatever scent I was putting out was interesting to him.
Oh man, that's nightmare fuel right there. Thanks.
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I was fishing the Madison last Aug, working my way up the bank toward my friend when I noticed I was being stalked by a huge angry beaver. I increased my pace, the beaver increased his and started to close distance. About 10 feet downstream of my fishing partner, I bid the customary "catch anything" to which he responded, "nope." I made a tactical move around and past him, placing my good friend between me and the angry beaver and bid him luck as I rounded the bend. It took a few seconds before I heard the ycommotion. I never realized ole Jim could run that fast. Normally I would not put a beaver in the "scary" class but this one was huge with buck teeth and beady eyes. I warned ole Jim about casting from atop of beaver lodges but he would not listen.....
When I lived in your state I used to fish alone most of the time. I was up on the N/F Sauk one time beating my way through the brush when I came upon a small wooden hut like this one. Why it was there I couldn't fathom. But I never went back to that spot, But I still fished the N/F Sauk. I just never worried as to what was around there.
This is a great thread! I was wading the Skagit for the first time a while back, river left, on the outside of a hard right hand bend, so there was already a good current. Suddenly, a wall of water and a wave are coming at me fast from nowhere. There were a couple seconds of panic and backpedaling for shore, thinking all sorts of scary sh!t, before I realized there were multiple dams upriver releasing water. What an idiot...
And then there was the run-in with the machete wielding, backwoods gold miner way out on the SF Stilli... That one was a bit scary.
I fished the Russian River in Alaska years ago with three friends. On the drive in, I noticed a nice little stream (Quartz Creek). We fished the Russian for a couple of days along with 500 other fishermen, two brown bears and several black bears - not my kind of fishing.
I talked my friends into grabing our 5wts and heading back to try that creek. It was a beautful little stream and there wasn't another fisherman in sight. That creek ended up having some nice sized Dollies and Rainbows that were easy to catch using an egg pattern.
My friend and I were downstream and out of sight of my other friends, when I noticed the water I was standing in, turn blood red. I watched the reaction of my fishing partner, who was downstream of me, when the discolored water reached him. He immediately stopped fishing and looked at me and asked "What the fuck is that?". I could only shake my head. We talked about what it could have been - a lot of things were discussed. We were both thinking something really bad must have happened to one or both of our partners upstream (probably involving a large brown bear). We had no choice but to head back upstream to see what had happened - both certain we were to come upon the grisly remains of our friends.
So.....What was it?
Oh, it ended up being our imaginations running wild.
We found our friends alive and well, just soaking wet. One of my friends had slipped while wading across a particularly hairy spot - his partner tried to catch him and they both went for a swim. They had dredged up a bunch of silt and vegetation, which changed the water to a ruddy brown color. My friend and I both agreed that it looked a lot redder when we saw the water change color when we were downstream. We fished awhile longer, but the whole time I kept peering into the thick brush and listening for the sound of the large brown bear who was sizing me up.