One can never be sure what a river will offer up to you while on your quest for cold blooded fin. I have landed beer cans with crayfish claws waving in my face; once reeled in a slimy braw, T-shirts, and even some guys BVD. It’s amazing what attaches itself to 27 feet of lead core line beneath the chilly suburban depths of this valley’s river shed. The worst thing I ever found while fishing on the American River was a ten year old hispanic boy face down on the river bottom. Last summer I found an expensive snow white stetson hat about 15 feet down below the surface, peacefully resting on the sand. I anchored just below it and dived in. It fits my head perfectly though it is a bit of a mismatch for my personality. That same day I saw something floating on the surface and motored over to find a half shell of a coconut. Neatly arranged in this little tropical raft was an offering of incense, a red rose, nuts and a 5 dollar bill. I photographed it, added a dollar and sent it on its way to the ocean. What’s next???????
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