The moon is said to affect the blood in the same way it pulls at the tides and I wonder if, while finning beneath the dark over hung bank, Browns feel the same quickening, that betrays a need to breed and feed.
Studying my Drathaar’s youthful wire coat and scraggly whiskers, an old field trial buddy noted, “It’s hard to find an ugly puppy, but I think you succeeded.”
The canyon’s nutrient rich cold water stimulates the growth of fresh water shrimp. Hiding in black caves formed by the obtuse angles of massive basalt boulders, the ancient rainbows and ferocious browns grow heavy and old on the abundant feed. The shrimp draw the big fish slowly from bottom to top and by watching the strings of deep dimples, it is possible to mark their progress from the waning inflow, to the slow outflow.
Pepper Spray is a witch’s brew of ground cayenne and propellants guaranteed to make ursus horriblus wish he’d never laid eyes on homo sapien. “Use in short, timed bursts,” the instructions read.