Chapter Four: The Spring Time Trout

Cactus Slim's Spring Time Trout!

 

   

    The river is wild and untamed, and a moment later, peaceful and inviting. Venturing up the mountain to see it is Slim's favorite place. That water is as clear as a drop of rain.

 

Winding in and out of the Montana - Canadian territories tickling the borders that lie between. You can hear her babbling, softly reviling her secrets to those that will listen. Once your feet catch up to your senses, the sight of her is breathtaking. The aroma of the water is clean and fresh; it makes sweet the air as it lingers with the scent of pine and honeysuckle, which bids you welcome.

 

Slim's day drew to a perfect close as lazily he lays on his side watching a Brown Trout smoke over the open fire. Along the ridge, the moon drifts till it's spiked by the great pine, he lies beneath. Slim picks clean the bones from his handy work and drifts asleep to the sound of the wind that lives among these trees.

 

Morning is awakened by a chattering squirrel and a bugling elk. Slim is ready to face the river and peer around the next bend; I recall it should be Black Bear Bend.

 

Long before he wets his line, a fish breaks into the air, alluring him closer to the water's edge. He admires God's Cathedral. Offering Him a prayer and a hymn that could be heard under his breath.

 

Then he spies a spotted trout on the small side of a boulder. It's tucked under a forked root of a Douglas Fir at the water's base. The fish is a monster, a state record for sure, he conjects as he ties his fly with an eager hand. With a 10 and 2 motion, places it just in front of the beaut. The current lets it fall away, and again he tries. This time he pitches it just under the fork, and as luck would have it, Bam! A hit. No, not a hit, the strike of a lifetime. Well, let me tell you that fish was dragging line as fast as our boy Slim was putting it away!

The flow of the current couldn't touch the power of this trout. Slim jogged alongside the bank, trying to keep up. Working his magic as he went. In passing, he noticed a fallen log with deep claw-like marks running down it.

 

He leaped over the log, and the chase went on. The fish had run about twenty yards all uphill and just feet away from a small beaver's dam. Slim had to take a stand before the fish got caught up in that mess.

 

He wound down the line until the pole arched. This was the first tingle of tension the fish had felt. Let me add, he didn't like it. He broke in the air and thrashed his head, his golden belly outshining the sun. Slim was in tune and in time with the lunker's motion. Reeling the line without a pause holding the tension just so, and like all good fishermen praying as he goes. Bringing him ever closer to the bank. The fight at hand draws to an end; victory is in sight and a whopper of a tale to be told. The forest is thrashing about, but Slim cannot look. He can not stop.

 

"Come on, son!" He shouts. Getting more excited with each meter, he drops. He begins to move back as the fish is forced to his side. Slim falls over a blackberry bush. But, he never loses tension on his line. "He's in!" Said he. "I brought him to land." Slim sighed.

A smile swept his face like you have never seen. Pride pumped in his veins as glassy his eyes beamed. No warnings came as Slim's smile melted away and the Biggest Black Bear bellowed a roar his way. One swoop from the bear's paw, a nip with the Black Bear's fangs, and Slim's Lunker vanished as Slim ran away.

Author's Note

any comments are welcome

Reviews

[Ron]

Crikey Cherrie, I thought only men and boys went in those areas. It is obvious that you have been highly active and sporty out there too. I dream of catching fish like that. Lucky lucky Cherrie. Nice vivid read and what wonder times to live through. I remember Sugarfoot going to Montana. Now I know why! Cherrie Palmer and all that scenery!

[Tony Dincau]

Hi Cherrie! You had me hooked. Almost poem like in places. Great descriptive setting and the action was enjoyable and brow raising. Some of your style is reminiscent of my own. Perhaps a few less commas and revised comma placement would help smooth some sentences. But overall, this stuff is up my alley.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you so much. I wrote that story for my grandson.
Yes, I diffenitly need to edit these. I may have to give these a going over. Once I'm done with the story I'm working on.
I can't wait to read one of yours and again thank you.

[roarke]

Well, I live in Montana. The river here is the Kootenai and you pretty much nailed the surrounding nature, including the black bear. I've never seen a more beautiful and clean river. Like milky jade in the spring and fall and a clear sparkling emerald the rest of the time. I'm not much of a fisherman, but the stories I hear from the old sports guides here aren't told any where near as well as you've spun the tale.

Lunker, that what we call large potatoes here. lol. but I'm sure it applies to most anything. lol. Excellent visuals and fun. Thanks.