Brid

Here's an embarrassing one, with a cool ending. A few years ago, my son and I were in Austin for the ATC, and joined my partner Jim Kirkman on Emma Long (Lake Austin) for the week leading up to the competition. As we were camping, we had the 'full on' cooking set up and were all enjoying some great bankside meals, cooked by either my son or me (Jim is FAR too involved with tending his six or so reels (he calls his set ups that!) to be bothering to cook, and often goes days with nothing but an odd can of Beanie Weenie's, a packaged cup of fruit and coffee every morning. What can I say -- only, he is a star performer and loves every moment of it. About 3 days into the session, we had an incredibly productive afternoon, with many large Buffs (to over 40lbs) and some nice mid 20 commons. The baiting we were keeping up was clearly paying off and it was a very busy day. As darkness approached, my son Seamus asked what we were going to eat for dinner, and we decided Chili was a good choice. We had some cans, ground beef, onions etc, that would make a good meal for us all, 'tarted up' a little from the plain canned stuff, with kidney beans. He got cooking duty, as the fish were still biting, although it had slowed down radically from the crazy afternoon we had. At around 8pm, Jim came over and we ate a hearty bowl of 'modified' Chili, with bread & butter and a dessert of chocolate chip cookies - a bankside meal fit for Kings! The fishing got very slow as the night drew on, and I headed to the bivvy around midnight. Seamus was already doing his best interpretation of a loud chainsaw, but that didn't bother me - as I knew he was comfortable. As a baby, I swear we could have hung him by his toes from the clothes line, and he wouldn't have woken up - until he was ready to! I'd only been on my bed chair for around half an hour, when my stomach started 'talking to me', and it got progressively worse. At around 2am, I was just about to get out and head for the Porta Potty, when I got a screaming run on one of my rods. Well, I couldn't miss that, so ran to the pod and got into what was clearly a big fish, that took off like a submarine. My irritated bowels weren't aware I was into what I knew might well be a new PB for me, and the griping pains were getting worse. Seamus was still snoozing, and Jim (who was 100yds up the bank) was laying down resting. The fish was well over 100yds from the bank, in deep water and putting up a spectacular fight --- when it finally happened. I knew if I didn't relieve my bowels, I was going to make a pretty horrible mess of my whole lower torso - and clothing, and made a snap decision. There was a big tree to the left of the swim, right on the edge of the bank - around 25yds from the pod, and I somehow managed to get over there - with the fish still taking amazing runs against the drag. How I managed to hold onto the rod, and get my pants unbelted/zipped and get bent over, I'll never know - but I did! Heshey squirts is a term I don't like using, but believe me, it didn't take many seconds to -- relieve the pressure on my tortured bowels. I blessedly had a blue shop towel in my pocket, and managed a quick (if temporary) clean up before somehow (again, I don't recall how) getting my pants at least back up and in a 'workable' state. Rather relieved, I then started hollering for help! Jim was soon sprinting down the bank, as Seamus (very bleary eyed) slowly wended his way out of the bivvy. At this point, it might be poignant to mention that my 'accident' had happened downwind of my pod, and there was a gentle breeze blowing! With Seamus standing beside me, the fish took off on another blistering run and he shone his headlight right in my eyes and quietly said "I think it's a good one Dad". Jim took netting duty, and was in the water up to his knees when we got first sight of the fish -- a huge Buff. As soon as it saw lights shining on it, it decided it didn't want to be there, and tore off on another 30yd+ run. Jim turned to me and said (in his best Carolinian's accent "Brid - that fish is warld - and they say they don't fight!" After what seemed like an age, but was probably around 20 minutes, it was on the mat -- and, what a brute it was. On the Rubens it went 52lbs 6oz, and a new PB for me (still is, with a 'back up' one of 51lbs 7oz) and we were all thrilled. My bad back wouldn't allow me to pick it up for pics, so they were taken on the mat. As she slid back home, I felt an incredible warmth come over me -- and my bowels started to grumble again! This time, I made it to the Potty, and later that night took a few buckets of water, and had a good clean up around the tree. Next morning, over a welcome cup of coffee, when I told the party about my 'adventure' with the big fish hooked, they laughed disbelievingly. I didn't push it any more, but am still amazed I pulled it off without any disasters!! To this day, I have a pet name for that beautiful fish --- Poopy! PS -- Nobody else got the trots!

Dang - all the details of my World Record Common Leather Linear Mirror Koi are LOST, and I have no back up Keep up the good work Willem, and thanks for the explanation.

-- $91

No mention of shipping for these rascals - who pays?

Are they prepared? In any case $60 bid.