“JJ likes fire.”
“What dude doesn’t like fire?”
It’s a simple back and forth, not a warning sign. In fact, it would be almost strange if my latest group of friends from California weren’t excited about a little campfire after a dinner of halibut tacos.
It was the first real meal in over 24 hours, and the first evening clear and dry enough for a campfire since the night they arrived.
The weather hasn’t been bad, just wet, but the fishing has been scalding hot. Earlier in the day we braved island road construction to get to the terminal run of silvers at Whale Pass.
It’s at least two hours but it seems longer thanks to the lane-and-a-half detour road that twists in spots like a gravel luge track. I don’t really mind, because while there are parts of California with stunning beauty and great fishing, nothing at all in California comes close to the madness of snagging at Whale Pass.
I took them fly fishing between trips to the coho killing grounds so they could appreciate the sustained high of fly fishing for trout in a beautiful place before again experiencing the peaks and valleys of fish hunting. That’s what snagging is.
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