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Author Topic: The Elusive 50# Salmon and Digger  (Read 1043 times)
Digger
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« on: May 15, 2008, 07:54:09 AM »

My Fellow Anglers,

I write this missive from my home in Whitwich where I am enjoying a nice little snack that Jeorl made for me.  It was a long and cold trip up north to Forochel and the lodge at Suri-kyla where I stayed.  I must share with you that the food there is excellent if you like fish, moose, and bear.  I personally like fish and find the other meats a bit gamey and tough.  I awoke early early this morning to go in pursuit of the rare and elusive 50# salmon.  I wanted to get out on the water before the crowd and while the fish were in their morning feeding time.  So I crawled reluctantly out of the great fur blankets and got dressed for a day of fishing.

After putting on my big coat and gloves and my new fur boots, I stopped by the serving area and picked up some food for me and my bags.  That fire was sure friendly this morning and when I went outside into the snowy cold, it felt even better in my memory.  I almost turned back for another hour or two of rest.  But a true fisherman has to make sacrifices and brave the weather.

Taking only my dear Belle with me, we went down to the water's edge and out to a small island there by the bridge at the base of the lodge hill.  Remembering the counsel of my kin and friends, I once again tied a rope around my waist and lashed the other end to Belle.  She was enjoying her Shire oats and quite content if I wanted to do this nonsense so early.  We both were honestly freezing until about an hour later the sun came up over the water.  That little bit of warmth sure felt good on my face.

Belle and I had been catching the usual fish - barbel, houting, trout, spicklebacks, perch and so on.  And we even caught a few nice trophies to sell.  I finished another ale to warm my insides a bit and about half-asleep, cast my line once more onto the grey water.  This was the cast we waited for - the one that did it.  They say that the 50# salmon is the fish of a million casts.  I know they are right.   I saw the water swirl lightly and my bobber dissappeared.  Then my arms were yanked straight out from me.  My feet shot off the ground and I flew along the ice face down into the water.  I held onto my pole for all I was worth, still not knowing what was on the other end (and you gotta admit, there could be alot of ugly things on that line).  Belle saw I was in trouble at once and came all alert.  She reared up and backed away from the shore tightening the rope around my waist.  I knew I should have tied my feet down, but I really thought the waist-line would be enough.  That line zinged tighter than a lute string, and I struggled to get my head up.  Every once in awhile I gasped a breath of air and went back down into the cold waters.  My arms were numb and my toes were just gone.  That line around me just nearly choked the life out of me while I pulled and pulled on my pole.  Nothing in the sky or on the earth was gonna make me let go of that pole.

Belle, me, and the whatever fought like that in a great tug-o-war for about an hour.  Just as I would feel shore under me again, wham away that thing would go like it was heading to the sun itself.  Belle did her part and pulled me back again and again and again.  Finally, just as we got that thing close to the shore, it reared up and launched itself into the air.  And, my friends, I truly almost dropped it right there.  I had no idea how big a 50# salmon is.  It was bigger than me!  When it sailed up into the air like that, it was way over my head.  But I did not let go.  I yanked hard again and we pulled and it jumped and we pulled and it thrashed and we pulled and finally, it was on the shore - my 50# salmon.  But that wasn't the end by far.

You know, you don't just put one of those fish in your pocket and carry it home.  So I conked it a couple of times with the butt of my pole, and the salmon gave it up.  I undid the rope and lashed that fish to Belle, so that together we dragged it back to the Lodge on my good coat.  I sure didn't want to scratch any of that gorgeous skin and scales on the ice, no way.  So the salmon wore my coat and I froze with a smile as wide as the sky while we drudged back up that awful hill.  Once inside, the folks were mighty fine.  There was ale and cheering and some stuff they drink that takes the cold out.  And there was that wonderful fire to stop my teeth from clacking.

After drying off me and Belle, I changed into some fresh clothes, and began to realize what had just happened.  I caught my 50# salmon!  Yuppers, I sure did.  The folks sent it back to Bree for me so it could be mounted.  Belle and I enjoyed another breakfast or two.  And that is how I became A Compleat Angler.  That 50# salmon now rests on the wall in our study and it is huge.  You can come over anytime and see that it is about half again as big as me.  I like it.  And I sure like fishin now.

The facts for my fellow anglers: It was early morning before sunup at the bridge in Suri-kyla.  I used my fine pole with red wiggler worm bait.  And most importantly, I held my mouth right.  After catching the salmon, I received the title The Compleat Angler and have a couple of deeds recorded called the King of Fish.  So now, I am back home resting up for more adventures.  It is just amazing the things that happen to a hobbit once he leaves the Shire.  Amazing.

Cheers,
Digger Goodsong
the compleat angler
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Ariadan
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« Reply #1 on: May 15, 2008, 08:21:33 AM »

Good friend Digger,

Somehow I am trying to see this story at a different angle or should I say angler!!  Well done!!  Especially since all I have managed to catch so far with my not so fine pole and no bait has been a minnow.

I look forward to seeing your catch and hearing your story again.  The story is in the telling of it - sometimes over and over.

Your friend Ariadan
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