Why Water Skiing and Fishing Don't Mix

With the fourth of July weekend freshly behind us, Ispeed.Oh what a time it was, the time of our
am reminded of one of the darker moments in a longyouth--resplendid youth.Alas, the joy was broken
and illustrious series of dark fishing moments....Oncesuddenly--when young foolish A.J., queried as to the
upon a time, there was this young energeticwhereabouts of the days catch.Were they stored
outdoors type fella, who burned the recreationalsafely in the captains cool locker?
envelope to the bitter end. It was not uncommon forHad they been stowed away in a water filled live
this naive- yet spunky- young man to participate inwell?Puzzled looks and questioning glares hung over
multiple outdoor activities on any given day.Fishing inthe lads like an Irish fog, it was clear that the
the morning would yield itself to mountain biking, orbouyant mood had been broken. Accusations flew,
hiking, or berry picking and then followed by theand responsibilities were shirked. Swords were ready
evening fishing du jour. A little grub, a little quenchingto be drawn.... had there been any swords.AND, a
of the thirst, perhaps a spirited game of cribbage, agood thing there were no swords, for after
short nap and soon it was time again to repeat theinspecting the stringer, the very same stringer which
previous days repetoire.Those days are all but ahad once held the hopes and prayers of a hungry
memory now, and yet somehow- like fine wine- thefish camp of merry men and women- it was found
memories ferment and settle, leaving a wonderfulthat the stringer was now void of fish!!Nothing but a
vintage of pleasant happenings. However, as aforefew gill plates remained.Much remorse was felt
mentioned, there are some rather embarrassing andamongst the lads, and a futile but heartfelt retracing
somewhat painful times when in his zeal and zest forof the boats whereabouts was undertaken. To no
the outdoor experience, good judgement was castavail.The fine and handsome trout had either sunk to
aside or completely forgotten.One such instancethe depths of the unforgiving waters of the
came upon a nice summer's day--twas the fourthreservoir, had wound up prey to the many a swift
day of the grand month of July--as I recall, when allfish hawk that hunted these waters, or were back
sense and wits left his self.swimming happily beneath the surface...sans a full gill
A.J.--as we will call our lad-- was invited to aplate.A dour feeling hung over the crew, and great
morning's fish on a large and water filled reservoir inshame stood in the place where pride once brimmed
the region of Southern Oregon. The ships stewardso brightly. Candor, and speculation ensued.Had the
and captain had mentioned that it would be nice tofish kept up for a while, hanging on with every bit of
cast about for trout in the morn and then take tothere very facial fiber as they slapped across the
the waters of the reservoir for a "skimming upon thesurface, like little water skiers themselves?Did they
surface with wooden planks", of which most refervanish and scatter to the wind upon the first thrust
to- as water skiing.After a bountiful morning of muchof the boats great motor?It matters not. For they
catch and frolic,the three jolly pranksters cajoledwere gone, GONE, GONE!!Should there be a need for
loudly about the fine and handsome trout which hunga moral to this tragic and wasteful tale, let it be
from yon stringer. Many a citizen would bow humblyknown: that if you plan to water ski and fish on the
before them and think of them certainly as masterssame day, in the same boat --be sure to place your
of ther craft.Fishermen indeed!!Now, after a fewfish IN the boat before transitioning to your next
celebratory quaffs of spirit, the lads were anxious torecreational pursuit.Maybe just maybe if you heed
take to the ever inviting waters of the reservoir, "Tothese words, you can avoid the pitfalls of youth like
the skis, men" harkened the ships captain.Soon,these lads were so unmercifully forced to endure.A
wooden planks were tossed to the sea, and one attragic tale indeed...A.J. Klott
a time the lads took to the water.Author, writer of fishing humor,and "fly tack"
Skimming and jumping and showing the versatiles ofpeddler.A.J. writes about the people,characters and
youth--the lads frolicked immensely.modern day events that surround the fishing world.
Thumbs were thrust skyward as the fishing boat,His first book is due out in December of 2005.
now turned ski boat, gained more power and