I am way the he11 up in Canada as a guest on some Orvis deal or maybe Fenwick. I don't know who it was but it was free. We are at this gazillion dollar lodge on this stream I can't even pronounce, let alone, spell.

The organizer says to me, "This your guide Andre. He'll take care of anything you need."

Guide???? I can see the river. We are not using boats. I don't even know for sure what we are fishing for. Andre tells me we are salmon fishing and no, there are no smallmouth in that river. I say to Andre, "Maybe we should have a drink and talk this over."

Well, me and Andre, after a couple belts, hit it off. But he says that if I don't catch a salmon both he and I will be ridiculed. Well, I don't want Andre ridiculed. I'm use to it. So I say, "Tie me something on that buggy whip and let's get it over with."

We walk down to the water and Andre points out a rock I should stand on. I'm wearing the most uncomfortable chest waders ever known to man. I waddle out on top this rock and he shows me the drift he wants me to make. First cast, I miss by a mile. Second cast, get a rise, set the hook and after about 20 minutes of me bitchin about the buggy whip, Andre lands the salmon. Never giving a thought, I smacked the fish in the head with a rock and proclaimed to the world...SUPPER!

Best guide I ever had. Next time I saw him, he was guiding in caribou camp in Quebec. When he saw me get off the float plane, he broke and ran for the bush.

Constipation has ruined many a good day. Not as many as stupidity, though.