Slap Yourself Moments or The Basics Revisited

[whitefish ed]

As with any river, there are no porta-potties along the banks of the Henry's Fork. You're on your own for miles on end. Your bladder control will be tested after a couple cups of morning coffee. But when you have to go on the Fork, one just gets out of the water, hops up the bank, and crosses the path to the wide open field. The rod is dropped, never gently placed on the ground. In three blinks of an eye, the vest, net, wading belt, and waders are outta the way. Let 'er rip! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. *as eyes roll toward the sky in blissful relief*

It's a common sight on the Ranch waters since there is no place to hide to take a squirt. Nobody in the water really pays attention either. When you gotta go, you gotta go. Who cares anyway? We're in the 'wilderness' aren't we? The animals wet the woods when they have to, and don't need to find a tree.

One day I spaced cadeted the first commandment of fly fishing: Pee before you put on your waders. Yep, as soon as I got in the water, the urge hit me.

As karma would have it, a killer hatch comes off at the very moment of..."Geeez I gotta go already?" Fish are up and feeding. Some morning hatches on the Fork don't last long. This could be one of them. I'm not taking any chances, every minute counts! I'm staying in the water. I can hold it in! I'll be brave....

The hatch is getting better. I'm gettin' worse. I'm whackin', hackin', and flaying away. Torturing myself adhering to another unwritten commandment of this fly fishing addiction; "Never leave the water when fish are rising." Talk about practicing discipline! What's the line between discipline and torture?

As torture time continues, I think I covered every angle imaginable of crossing my legs trying to hold it in. Grabbing..Squeezing..Jumping up and down..Squirming.. and I can't remember what else. It all became fuzzy.

My torture threshold was finally breached, then pulverized. I bolt across fish, out of the water, up the bank, lightning strip off the gear. Unite my fleece pants. Totally lucked out I didn't get a knot when I untied the string. It woulda been alllllll over right there.

Ready? Forget aim! Just Fire! GOOOOOOOO!! Ohhhh Man!...That feels sooooo gooooood! I know you can relate. I'm also glad there are no security cameras on the Ranch. I bet some warped one woulda put the streaming video on YouTube....

I'm not paying any attention where I'm whizzin'. I'm looking back at the water, planning an approach to a fish when I get back in the river. Remember, this could be a short time hatch, and time taking a tinkle is wasted time not fishing.

After rushing through the shakes and wrappin' things up, I'm back at it, working a consistent feeding rainbow for about 10 minutes. It didn’t like my bug. Time to change to another pattern. I reached into the front pouch of my waders and pulled out the two clear plastic fly boxes....

"What the ??!!" "Where did this YELLOW WATER in 'em come from?!"
Need I say anymore?...