A little more on this. Do any of you have a particular incident that sticks out in your mind when you took some one out and they turned into a giant pile of [Bleeeeep!] right before your eyes. Lets call him "cousin fred" He shows up at the launch at 06:30 a.m with one of your other buddys. He has no gear but is hauling a 28 pack "extra value" case of Schmidt in one hand and an open can in the other.. Having never meet you in his life, he greets you with "hey you old asshole" hows it hanging. When you suggest that if we put all your beer in the cooler, we won't have room for your fish, he says "well, you know what they say, you can't drink all day if you don't start early in the morning !!!" You ask your buddy what the hell this guy is while he is down there rooting around in the boat and making a mess of things and he explains that it was the only way he could come is if he brought this guy with him. The day starts off well when the dork steps on a loomis GL3 and snaps it.. Thats O.K he says, I'll buy you another one. Looking at his taste in beer you know that if you told him how much it cost he would have a heart attack right there on the spot (you concider it) So during the day, you get to know the guy. Beer after beer..smokes about three packs. And talk about knowledge !!! this guy knows everything about steelhead fishing.. and boating and hunting and building space shuttles etc.. And handy with the ladys !!! wow.. how the entire north west is not pregnant with his children is a mystery. The it happens, you hoped it would'nt but it does. His pole gets slammed hard, Fish on. No matter how hard he trys to screw it up this fish is on for good and it makes it into the boat. 34 inch hatchery and of course he wants to keep it because he is also a "Damn good cook" So you listen to the story about that fish over and over the rest of the way to the take out. Its growing by the second and your pretty sure that by the time he gets to work on monday it will have came into the boat with a 4 point buck in its mouth "non-typical" 35 inch spread. You get to the take out and he falls out on his head and puts a nasty gash on his chin. He don't even feel it. Sticks out his hand and says that was great, we gotta do that again next week, and what did you say your name was.. You just shake his hand and say "you can just call me asshole" and I'm moving to wyoming tommorrow so I won't be fishing any more. He stumbles into your buddys truck and I am told burnt 3 holes in the seat with his smokes on the trip home.

You know, maybe, just maybe they could sell beer in those styrofoam bait containers and there would only be half as much trash..