Waiting for the french toast combo at my favorite local diner, I called Bennett to make sure we were all set for yesterday's Spey session. I can't exactly remember what I mumbled on bar stool, but it was something like "Brian, I woke up with an erection in a steelhead laden dream last night." The moment I pressed "end call" on my cell, my bar stool neighbor looked at me and asked if i was going steelhead fishing today. Looking like a punk with my Dunder Mifflin tee shirt on and Seahawk skull cap, I said "Uh yeah, I'm going Spey fishing". Thinking I'm special or something because I'm picking up a Spey rod for the third time in my life, I give him the details of yesterday's plan. The pride shrank, along with my Johnson, after I looked at the url he mentioned to me as I tossed my tip on the table and walked out the door.
Good work Bob! It was great to meet you and good to know I've still got a way to go before I too belong to the 30 lb club.