This is a true story about a guy that lived on a river, the Wynooche, and he always had a rod fishing from his bank. So one day along came little ol me, and yup he had a rig set up out there. Pulled into the bank, pulled his hook and line and hauled it back up the river about 75 yds where it turned a little, waded out and hooked him up on a log. Went back down to his rod, cranked it down pretty good, and the current made the rod tip move some. Hauled butt out of there before I got shot or something, never did hear anything about that one though.