posted on Jul, 29 2021 @ 01:06 PM
Had a few days off so I decided to head up 550 to the 4 corners and get in a little fishing as I heard the Browns were hitting grasshopper
About half way there I noticed a new place in Aztec and pulled into the parking lot. I saw a few other pickups with Orvis stickers, so a perfect
place to get info on the bite. Damn there was old Jon taking off his waders, he hollered at me and asked if I was headed to Texas hole. I was. He
proceeded to tell me that there was a mutilated cow on the North side and I might consider another spot. Not a chance, there's not another spot in
the South West for a chance at a record trout or at least a personal best. I didn't even go into "Cafe Delirium" and headed to the river
mutilated cow or not.
There it was alright, tongue removed, udder sliced off, square patches of skin removed with surgical precision, no flies like you would expect and not
a soul fishing Texas hole, one of the most hammered places on the river; all to myself. Strung up my rod and tied on the ugliest grasshopper I had in
my box, short cast, dead drift, in the closest riffle. Didn't even finish the drift, bright light and found myself on a padded table, unable to
move and two little black-eyed bastards staring down at me. I heard a voice in my mind..."welcome olaru12, guess what, we're headed to st. Alpha
fishing for Ischnacanthus and you're the bait" Last thing I remember is hearing their laughter before I hit the water.