Day 4....

Super Tuesday.

In the immortal words of Michael Jackson:

"Gotta leave that 9 to 5 up on the shelf... and just enjoy yourself.

Life ain't so bad at a-a-a-a-l-l-l-l , if you live it Off The Wall.

Live your life Off the Wall.... live it Off the Wall!"

And that's just what we did. High-tailed it down to the Wall to beat high water for our first morning pass and NEVER left till it was time for some of my pansy-ass crew to go home for brunch and a nap. It was steady action right thru the flood and the flush giving Team KeenEye the opportunity to go 5 for 6. No bigguns.... just steady action coming to my de-hooker.

Tanner and I stayed on the water during the "break" picking up fishook to make up for the rod shortage. Mid-day fishing was great, but the catching was DEAD. Drank some beers, soaked up some sun, and snag country music with fishook thru every hole we beat up. We were obviously having way too much fun... or at least a lot more than the SOB who reported me to the Park Rangers. Half nekkid beer swillin' country music singin' redneck Ornamental backtrollin' machine was just too much for 'em to stand.

A trio of Rangers was dispatched to apprehend the villain wide open throttle on full plane, fully prepared to confiscate his vessel. Got pulled over at the top of Chicago where I was made to pin the boat in heavy current when the interrogation and sobriety testing began. I answered The Man's questions and completed his tests without hesitation. Still unconvinced of my ability to safely operate my vessel, they escorted us back downriver to a dock at Beaver Creek where he felt compelled to complete his investigation on dry land. I was instructed to pin my boat on the tip of a skinny little dock that was mostly sitting high and dry on the mud. Walked ashore and performed all his gymnastic tests without skipping a beat.

The Man and his posse were more than a bit disappointed that they couldn't get their man. I'm more disappointed in the POS that felt compelled to report me.

Picked up Noel and Wayne at Beaver Creek and we dropped down to the Pasture to wait out the new tide fish. "Wait" was the operative word because they never showed... or at least refused to open their mouths. Fished the flood up to Mud and then back to the Wall. Sure paid back the rod hours that day!