Flossin Socks.

I’m back up North and it’s salmon season. We load up and head to Hazelton. On our way to the river we pick up a couple strong backs and make a break for it. We pass one fishing hole loaded with people and hit the end of the road up zipper mouth creek. One other truck and we can’t see the driver on the river. It’s all ours.  For now… it’s still before noon so we’re makin’ a PB on time. 

Almost there. The river is down a muddy embankment which ends in a mid thigh deep pool of water and across some big river rock. Three capable friends make it happen. 

I sit. They fish. Very simple. Too simple. So simple, they don’t catch anything. 

As we’re talking about how fun the way back is gonna be an old friend’s Dad happens by.
“un deux trois”
He says, something to the effect of I’m glad I ran into you guys, I was getting bored catching fish all by myself. 
Difference between what he was doing and fishing is, he was catching fish. We were just fishing.
Anyways, he got all excited and really wanted to catch a fish and let me fight it. Within five minutes, I was wranglin’ a fish. And another, and he then proceeded to put on a bit of a clinic. 


When we were all fished out I got loaded into his boat and got taken upstream to a boat launch.  I rejoined the boys there. All in all a good day by the river.


Big thanks to Cody, Jake, Derek, Michel and Simone!

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