The Assassin
Pueblo, Colorado
Category: Fishing
My brother Jeff and I were itching for the fly-fishing in Colorado to get into high gear. In preparation for it, we decided to have some fun on stockers in the Arkansas River where it flows through the city park in Pueblo, Colorado. We got down to the honey-hole and started fishing.
We started hammering them on midge patterns and the fun went on for quite a while. There was a fellow bait-fishing up the river a short distance from us who just couldn't keep his eyes off our action. I looked up at him periodically and noticed that he was slowly moving closer to me. This didn't bother my brother so much because he was fishing the other side of the river.
Pretty soon this guy's shoulder was no more than two feet from mine! The real funny thing is that he was acting like I wasn't even there.
Jeff was on the other side laughing at me and still hammering the fish pretty good. I was getting pretty frustrated because this fellow was throwing a fairly heavy sinker everywhere my fly would land. Still, I didn't say anything because my brother and I were just having fun with the stockers.
Pretty soon my action stopped, but Jeff was really pounding them on the other side. That's when this guy decided to get in on some of the action. I looked over at my brother and saw that he was really concentrating on fishing and not paying any attention to my "partner" and me.
That's when the action really started. The "assassin" figured he was going to get his bait into the sweet spot and let one fly in my brother's direction. I just happened to watch his cast as it sailed to its final destination, which happened to be located in the space right between my brother's eyes! I could hear that sinker smack him all the way across the river.
Jeff was mildly stunned for a minute and I just stood there staring at the guy. I told him my brother was a pretty easygoing person until something really gets him going. I don't know if he got my real meaning because I was laughing so hard. I put my Powell down and watched to see just what would happen next.
The guy didn't seem to really care about what had just happened and stated that he could fish where he wanted to. This is a true statement, but it doesn't give anyone the right to fling sinkers at someone's head.
By that time my brother had figured out what had happened and was coming across the river fast. I told the fellow that he had better get moving before my brother reached this side of the river. He finally realized what he had done and made a beeline for the trail leading away from the river.
By the time Jeff reached me, the "assassin" had disappeared up the trail. I was laughing so hard I could hardly stand up, especially after seeing the third eye growing on his forehead.
Jeff and I decided to call it a day before another river terrorist decided to take pot shots at us. We grabbed our rods and headed for cover.
