Is all this pain and tribulation the means behind your wonderfully artistic turntable creations? I've been looking for inspiration.
"Muddafukker"!!
- Thread starter Pioneer Vato
- Start date
GuyK
Junior Member
No need to tell me 'bout no bee stings. I'm a land surveyor, and I know ALL about'em. Never got 150 at once, though.
Love Christmas trees! Thanks!
JimPA
Junior Member
LOL over the years one develops a sixth sense for hornet nests.
mfrench
Senior Member
So, my cousin, who lives in a wonderful area for catching wild trout, decided that he was going to come down to L.A. area, and, go hiking up this glorified gutter flow of a wild trout stream in my area.
Its actually a beautiful little year round stream, in an area where you'd never expect to find one. And full of native Rainbow Trout, and Brown trout as well. And, they sip on dry flies all year long.
You can drive to the stream on a 4x4 truck road, and, fish from there, or, spend hours hiking up into this canyon. You fish upstream, and then hike out.
We'd planned on going up there every day for the better part of a week, and had accomplished that, at least halfway.
I've fished this canyon extensively, and, know it intimately, even creating a trail up into it. In one area of this trail, I'd learned to go higher up on the canyon wall to avoid a patch of poison oak. At a certain point, I knew to turn back down into the creek bottom, and continue on.
So, we were hiking back out of the canyon, and, up on this higher level trail, and at that point where you could get back to the creek. We were heading back down to the creek, across this sandy decomposed granite stretch, when suddenly, both of us were waving our arms in the air, trying to do whatever it took to get the electric fire from our bodies, which turned out to be Yellow Jackets.
We had walked directly over one of their in-ground nests, and had set them into defense mode, and they came down on us with vigor, swarming over whatever bare skin they could find. Purified hell ensued.
I always carry two fly rods with me up there. I fish with one, mostly, and, have the other one for backup, in case I get hung up in the trees, and need the backup rod, or, worse, broken rod; it happens up there.
Of those two, one is a hand built gem, of the most petite size. It is 6'6" long, and weighs one ounce in total (without the reel). It is an extremely light delicate rod. I built it up from a blank, including building a handle of teak, with sterling silver reel foot rings, and sterling silver butt cap. This is a really sweet rod. Combined with the reel,... a $750 tag wouldn't be out of the question.
Well, one of those yellow bastards bit me on the back of the hand, across the major tendons that cross the back of the hand, and, it clamped on. My reaction was to yank my hand back, and started thrashing it, while running, all while trying to wipe the other yellow jackets off,.... they finally quit biting us about 50' from where it all began.
> Problem: When the one bit me on the back of the hand, I dropped my hand-built gem right on top of their den, and, there was no way in hell that I was going to walk away from it.
> Solution: Take a deep breath, and, go back and get it.
> Result: Swarming round two commenced.
My hand swelled up like a melon, and, I couldn't hold the rod. Next days fishing cancelled, and, fly tying lessons for my cousin commenced. We got back up there two days later, and, avoided that part of the trail.
Its actually a beautiful little year round stream, in an area where you'd never expect to find one. And full of native Rainbow Trout, and Brown trout as well. And, they sip on dry flies all year long.
You can drive to the stream on a 4x4 truck road, and, fish from there, or, spend hours hiking up into this canyon. You fish upstream, and then hike out.
We'd planned on going up there every day for the better part of a week, and had accomplished that, at least halfway.
I've fished this canyon extensively, and, know it intimately, even creating a trail up into it. In one area of this trail, I'd learned to go higher up on the canyon wall to avoid a patch of poison oak. At a certain point, I knew to turn back down into the creek bottom, and continue on.
So, we were hiking back out of the canyon, and, up on this higher level trail, and at that point where you could get back to the creek. We were heading back down to the creek, across this sandy decomposed granite stretch, when suddenly, both of us were waving our arms in the air, trying to do whatever it took to get the electric fire from our bodies, which turned out to be Yellow Jackets.
We had walked directly over one of their in-ground nests, and had set them into defense mode, and they came down on us with vigor, swarming over whatever bare skin they could find. Purified hell ensued.
I always carry two fly rods with me up there. I fish with one, mostly, and, have the other one for backup, in case I get hung up in the trees, and need the backup rod, or, worse, broken rod; it happens up there.
Of those two, one is a hand built gem, of the most petite size. It is 6'6" long, and weighs one ounce in total (without the reel). It is an extremely light delicate rod. I built it up from a blank, including building a handle of teak, with sterling silver reel foot rings, and sterling silver butt cap. This is a really sweet rod. Combined with the reel,... a $750 tag wouldn't be out of the question.
Well, one of those yellow bastards bit me on the back of the hand, across the major tendons that cross the back of the hand, and, it clamped on. My reaction was to yank my hand back, and started thrashing it, while running, all while trying to wipe the other yellow jackets off,.... they finally quit biting us about 50' from where it all began.
> Problem: When the one bit me on the back of the hand, I dropped my hand-built gem right on top of their den, and, there was no way in hell that I was going to walk away from it.
> Solution: Take a deep breath, and, go back and get it.
> Result: Swarming round two commenced.
My hand swelled up like a melon, and, I couldn't hold the rod. Next days fishing cancelled, and, fly tying lessons for my cousin commenced. We got back up there two days later, and, avoided that part of the trail.
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