So here I am living a dream. Not more than 5 yards down river from me dressed in new Orvis neoprene waders, a "River Runs Through It" hat, an Orvis vest, and a G Loomis nine foot 8 weight rod stands Cliffy Claven. I got the privelage of fishing near him for three straight days, sharing fishing yarns of his many conquests with the "Mighty Steelhead" and his exploits of 200 fish spring seasons on the Brule River in Northern Wisconsin (which is almost impossible for a mortal man). To whom did I owe, for this beautiful moment in time, where I could share fishing stories, and trivia at the same time?

Cliffy and I became real "chums" over those three days, as he explained the finer points of establishing a productive drift for the "Mighty Steelhead". He would tell me of making his presentation, feeling the methodical tapping of lead on gravel, and at the opportune moment, "striking" the fish. I was saddened after three days to not see Cliffy put this technique to use, after my "other" friend and I had hooked over 60 fish a day each. Could Cliffy be jinxed, on this river? Surely he couldn't be knitting yet another yarn, and slightly overstating his fishing prowess.

Needless to say, late in the 3rd day, the blessed moment occured, and Cliffy "struck' a fish. The hook came out of the fish under much pressure, sending the tip of his Loomis fly rod in to a tree limb, thus shortening it by a foot. He now had a three piece 8 foot, 1 foot, 8 weight rod. He was emotionally horrified. He headed up the bank, shattered rod and dreams in hand, never to be seen again.

It was at this time that my "other" friend that I have known since 10th grade decided to re-live that fateful moment that Cliffy had just experienced. So Chuck (my other friend)says " I stealthily cast my line to the holding area of the pool, tightened my line for the rythmic tap of lead on gravel, detected a hesitation in my drift, and "struck the fish". This doesn't seem life threatining does it? It was.

Let me tell you that at this very moment, I had lost my rig, and was snelling up another hook with yarn. I had a 1 inch piece of yarn held loosely in my left hand, and the hook in my right hand. At the end of Chucks story, I inhaled so violently, to keep from losing it, and sucked the 1 inch piece of yarn directly in to my lungs. I was instantly vapor locked, and choking. I could not get a single bit of air in to my system. The river was running fairly hard, and was up to my waist in water. I didn't want to drop my rod, so I continued to stumble around in the middle of the river. I was ckoing big time. I was getting dizzy and light headed, and thought it was all over. Chuck saw the yarn dissapear in to my lungs, and was laughing too hard to be of any help (paybacks are hell). All of a sudden, I got a shot of air, and puked up some flem, and mixed in it was 6 inch long pieces of golden nugget glo bug yarn. I continued to dry heave and blow up 6 inch chunks of yarn for almost 10 minutes. There was a flem and yarn slick that covered the next three guys directly down river from me. Repulsed, they started to back out of the river. Now, I want to know how a piece of yarn goes in your lungs, at 1 inch in length, and comes out 6 times longer a few mintues later. I figure I hurled up about three bags of Glo bug Yarn by the time I was done. Just enough to make a size XL Golden Nugget cardigan without buttons.

I dry heaved so long, that Chuck and the guy next to me were bent over blowing chow in the river, and another friend of ours ran across the bridge, and back down in to the river thinking he was going to have to give me CPR. I know it's hard to believe, but I almost got killed by a 1 inch long piece of glo bug yarn. When Andy Matthews says its "fluffy" he ain't just a shittin ya, because you can't breath with it in your lungs. Cliffy, if you are out there, I miss you.