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Friday, June 8. 2007
During the summer of 1973, Jack Schlindler and I, and our families, were invited to spend a weekend at a 100 acre private lake in Central Arizona, just below Thumb Butte. We hitched his original Skeeter Bass Boat with a 55 HP motor, our tackle and our water skis, yes water skis, on to my 1973 Dodge Power Wagon and eagerly accepted the invitation.
North on Interstate 17, left at Bumble Bee, on through Prescott, until just below Thumb Butte and, as it was getting dark, we arrived at our destination, a beautiful man made lake with sumptuous accommodations. Putting the boat into the water, we had just enough time for a quick â€œfishâ€ in the lake. Several casts later, each of us had a nice Bass up to the boat, each fish falling for a yellow Piggy Boat. I had brought an ample supply of them from Texas.
Our accommodations were wonderful, but the hit of the evening were the rib eye steaks cooked outside over mesquite coals, potatoes wrapped in foil and cooked in the coals and fresh, home grown tomatoes, yummm!
Weâ€™re up early and on the water before the sun came up. We head across the lake to a vertical cliff that formed the south side of the lake and pull up within casting distance and let fly with two yellow, Piggy Boats, smack, into the rocks. Both baits flutter down the steep sides and both of us are rewarded with solid strikes and our dayâ€™s aerial circus begins.
Mixed in with our catch that morning were some nice sized Blue Gills. I think they are as good to eat as White Perch. When I eat Blue Gills I always think of my Uncle, A.J. Peters, smiling, while he was eating one and saying, â€œFry them up real crisp and eat bones and all!â€
Posted by Jon Bryan in Fishing at 08:10 | Comments (0) | Trackbacks (0)
Monday, January 29. 2007
In January of 1971, I was transferred to Phoenix, Arizona to be Sales Manager in charge of all new business.Â The first months were spent missing the Gulf Coast, then a one month bout of Aisian Flu and then, whatever else time I had getting into my new job.Â Shortly after the Asian Flu, we met the Schlindler family, and Jack Schlindler became my hunting and fishing companion for the next fifteen years.
Jack was from East Texas, and grew up hunting and fishing in Texasâ€™ great piney woods.Â He was also a Mechanical Engineering graduate from Texas A & M College (now University).Â In 1971 Jack was VP of a large grocery chain, one of several local chains trying to gain control of the Phoenix market.Â Jack hung the dubious nickname of â€œBeechnutâ€, or â€œBeechâ€, on me because I chewed Beechnut Chewing Tobacco.
We had many adventures, some spine tingling, like when I slipped and fell/slid fifty feet down a two hundred foot canyon wall at the Black River.Â As I was sliding down, something inside told me to flatten out and spread my arms and legs to slow my fall.Â This saved my life!Â By lying flat and â€œscroochinâ€ up inches at a time I finally got to where Jack could reach me and pull me up and out of my fix.
Posted by Jon Bryan in Fishing at 12:36 | Comments (0) | Trackbacks (0)
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