It was about 1992. I was on the North Umpqua during August. I was very much aware of the Oregon's fish and game enforcement officers on the river. In fact, I was preoccupied with them. One officer that I noticed on the road I thought I would see again. I did; he checked my hook. I was in compliance: it was barbless. After he left, I was standing on a rock rather shaken in full regalia: waders, vest, 10ft. fly rod, and wading staff. The next thing I know I'm entering the stream head first. Apparently I slipped on the rock, having lost concentration. I took a full dunk upside down. I was surprised I had not broken the fly rod. Needless to say, I lost interest in fishing for the afternoon.

[This message has been edited by Idono (edited 08-24-2000).]