Packbaskets and fish tales

The following morning, young Bill was on the road at 6 am. As he was passing his fathers house on the Wadhams Road, he realized he had forgotten his pack. Knowing his Dads packbasket was on the front porch, drying out; he stopped and threw it in the truck.

By 6:45 a.m., young Bill was sitting comfortably on the far side of Courtney Pond. He had a line in the water and a couple of hefty brook trout were already lodged in the packbasket.

The fishing had been very productive and it was exactly 7:30 a.m. when he noticed a car pull off the road and a rather rotund figure exit.

She had a pole and other fishing gear and over the snow bank she came, wallowing through the snow. She approached his spot and stopped just short of the little clearing he had made by the big rock. She looked first at me, then at the basket and back at me, young Bill explained, Then she said, Well, youre father isnt a liar! He told me that he wasnt planning to return today. But he didnt tell me he was sending his damned packbasket back.

Moral of the story: Go earlier, stay late and never believe an old fisherman.

Joe Hackett is a guide and sportsman residing in Ray Brook. Contact him at brookside18@adelphia.net

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