But...as of Sunday afternoon...I have done this:
It all started with me deciding to go fly fishing, in the hopes of catching dinner. I didn't have much luck in the first river.
|I am the very tiny speck in the distance!|
The first good sign was around 12 hawks circling the river...the water level was way down, and there were tons of fish visible. Considering the time of year, I was expecting to maybe get a bass, or a small trout...but after 20min or so, a GIANT fish passed within eyesight.
Huge migratory trout, that are notoriously hard to catch...ah ha! A challenge!
I followed the fish through the river for over 2 hours, changed lures 3 times, all without luck. But in the back of my mind, were some tips on catching fish with your hands, all garnered through voracious watching of YouTube bushcraft videos.
Slowly, oh so slowly I crept up behind the fish... I crouched with my hands in the water until they had matched the water temp...slowly, oh so slowly moved my hands into position...
Grabbed it around the base of the tail!
...and it wriggled loose.
Another 15min go by, I slip my hands into position...
...it wriggles loose.
Another 15min go by... I slip my hands into position.
My cell phone begins ringing (yes, that is my ring tone)...
I grab it around the tail, and scoop it out of the water...!
It appears my cat-like reflexes are unparalleled...or maybe my cat-like reflexes are due to the fact that I'd drunk 6 cups of coffee...
My reward for roughly 3 hours in knee deep in the river? A 20 inch trout, a sunburn, and raging guilt over killing a fish.
The fact that it was delicious mitigates things a little...and the fact that any one of those 12 hawks circling overhead would likely have snapped up the fish later that day...
Oh, and the insane rush of endorphins that your brain gives you when you fulfil your basic survival needs.
I am a bear...albeit a slightly guilt-stricken bear... but a bear nonetheless.