Well we missed the big trout opener again. I can’t understand why the wife insists on scheduling our annual sheep shearing day on the most hallowed of all fishing days. And what self respecting sheep shearer works on opening day anyway? I mean what could possibly compare to the excitement, the grandeur or the revelry of opening day on Lake Wilderness or Pine Lake? Surely not Blue Cr., or the Barrier dam, or the Sekiu king opener, or Buoy 10, Bogey brats, Quilcene, or even Minter Creek. (OK, maybe Hoodsport comes a close second.) But even when I mentioned TRIPLOIDS to her she didn’t even blink. What, I ask you, have I done to deserve this?

Oh well, they can’t take away the memories? Speaking of which, it occurred to me that there are probably a lot of great opening day stories to be shared by members of this board. For those of you who are too bashful (yah, I’ve seen you out there), I’ll start things off with one of my favorites; a real classic.

About 20 years ago, two hard core fishing buddies and I decided to take all 4 of our kids (ages 4-7) up to Pine Lake for the opener. Good thing the General flat refused to go because there wasn’t much room left in the drift boat with all seven of us plus tackle. Anyway, the fun began as we pulled up to the boat launch at daybreak. Even though you could literally walk from one end of the lake to other across the boats that covered it, we launched anyway. It was so congested at the launch we barely went 10 yards from where we dropped in. So we started things off with a single egg on my son’s hook. No sooner did he drop it in the water than wham, fish on. So, unhook the fish, another Pautzke, in the water, wham, another fish. Within minutes it’s pandemonium. People all around us are nailing fish, hooks and bobbers are flying, fish are flopping in the bottom of our boat, girls are shrieking, boys are complaining they haven’t had their turn and my son is demanding another egg for his hook. So to get him off my back, I pretend to put an egg on for him, toss the bare hook and bobber out and turned to help the others get their bait in the water too. Before I get the next rig out, Evan is hauling in another one on his bare hook. On seeing this, the guys and I toss out the other kids’ bobbers with the bare hooks and, low and behold, fish on, one right after the other non stop. Within minutes we’ve got seven limits flopping around the bottom of the boat and the guys and I are too busy dealing with the chaos to ever wet a line. When we pulled out, no one believed the kids when they proudly told them that all they used were these little bare gold hooks. My son still thinks he has the Midas fishing touch and that all fish tremble where he walks. I haven’t had the heart to tell him in all these years that the Game Dept. had just dumped tens of thousands of hungry little fish at the launch the day before.

Good times. How about some of yours?