How's your Spey er....Day going?

We woke to the sound of wind and rain pounding on the cottage roof.  After careful deliberations over coffee and Kahlua we opted to head south and fish the White.  From what I had been reading the White was fishing very well this spring.  Arriving to Hesperia we were chillingly greeted with a mediocre to low gin clear flow.  The first thing that crossed my mind was to cut our losses and double back to the big river.  We decided to tough it out.  A couple of small browns and a few hours later found us heading  North back towards the cabin and the big river.  After a quick lunch we headed towards the access and the infamous stairway.  We made our way down the stairs when I recalled Norlands stairway mishap the weekend prior on the slippery wooden stairs.  I had a chuckle to myself when we were nearing the first set of wooden stairs.  I was about to warn Red about Norlands misfortune when his feet went out from under him and he went down hard.  He skidded down 7-10 steps in the blink of an eye.  I was certain he had injured himself and asked if he was alright.  The first thing from his mouth was a statement that he had broken his new 13' Loop Double Hander.  Once again I questioned his well being only to get a similar reply but this time including some expletives.  We evaluated the rod and determined only a 2"-3" section of the tip was broken off.  Red figured he could re-rig and fish the remainder of the day but soon realized he would be making the trek back up the stairs to the truck to get his pin after the spey rod blew up on the first cast.  Red informed me of the minor explosion and the fact that he was now running the pin a while later down river.

I felt bad and tried to console him by informing him of the large fish I had just blown in the big water.  I carried on down river to fish my isolated gravel bar.  A little while later Red appeared on the bank behind me.  He asked how the fishing had been then apprehensively informed me that he had gone in and was soaked fighting his first fish of the day.  He then went on to tell me he lost the fishing trying to save himself from completely going under.  It was all I had to contain my composure.  On one hand I really felt bad for him with the rod incident  but on the other it was clearly apparent that he was having an amplified Norland moment.  Red was adamant that he was not cold and wanted to continue fishing so we hit another spot.  A cold front had started to work its way into the region and it wasn't long before Red was feeling the negative effects of taking on water in the Spring.  We decided to cut it short and get back to the cabin so he could dry off and warm up.  Once we reached the truck Red couldn't find his keys.  I could see the day was taking it's toll on old Red and I quickly produced his spare set that he had happened to bestow upon me in the event of such an unfortunate occurrence.

By now Red was at the end of his rope and there was only one thing that could turn his misfortune into something positive so I quickly reached into the cooler and grabbed him an ice cold tall bud light.  We laughed at his expense the entire drive to the cabin and pretty much for the next couple of hours.  What can you do but laugh in times like these?  Today the River beat the Jesus out of Red.  The final tally was 2  blow fish, one major soaker, one destroyed high end Spey rod and two sore old guys.  Lookout Norland!  Old Man Maxfield is gunning for your title.