If you read this blog regularly or spend any appreciable amount of time around me you'll probably pick up fairly quickly on my use of word "Jim". Borrowed from my good buddy Jon, Jim is basically a substitute for the word redneck, moron, etc. As anglers we're fortunate enough to visit some real outposts of Jimdom (ie Forks Washington). Spend enough time in these places and eventually something ridiculous will happen. Sure, spend enough time in a city and the same is true. But in these rural outposts of Jimery there is a special kind of ridiculousness that occasionally comes out.
As they come to me I'll be posting stories from some of my favorite Jim encounters. The first installment takes place on a popular Desert River, where morons parading as guides spend their days ferrying 5-10 anglers upriver in jet boats, dropping them off and leaving them to stand on their rock of choice for approximately 8 hours. Anyways, all that is an aside to say I was fishing a favorite spot one morning when a Jet boat loaded down with eager clients dropped off three anglers across the river from me. In the chilly September morning water temperatures hovered around 60, air temps were much cooler. Apparently the guide had not spoken to his clients about appropriate equipment prior to picking them up at the boat launch and all three were wading wet, looking very cold and irritated as the cast spinners into their bucket of choice.
Within about 20 minutes I heard a Yeehaw across the river as Jim #1 hooked a fish. After a short fight, the fish was brought to hand and released. In celebration Jim #2 said to his lucky partner...."Hell yea, only two things in the world that make your hands smell like that, and both of em's good!" All I could do was laugh, shake my head and mutter, "e'ffing Jims".