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<blockquote data-quote="svnmag" data-source="post: 352235" data-attributes="member: 330">Back in the day, back in the Hills (July--1986); pards &amp; I decided on a last remote &quot;hurrah&quot; about three weeks before I went to Farce Basic.&nbsp; Dropped off on top of Cheat Mountain; we then retardedly hiked down Harper's Trail packing a lot of shit with the promise of being picked up in seven days.&nbsp; We were loaded for SMB as by all accounts any rail stocked trout were long dead due to high water temps and acid rain.&nbsp; Once we hit the river we went downstream about a shit-furlong off-trail and found a damn good virgin/clearing/campsite(?!!).We set up camp; waded across the river to the tracks that evening and found the trout to be lousy:&nbsp; I don't recall a single bass caught.&nbsp; This venture initiated my &quot;bass for other species&quot; quest in life.&nbsp; I caught a 14in brown on a Jitterbug.&nbsp; We ate so many trout on that outing I'm sick of them to this day and my taste for hotdogs was almost ruined:&nbsp;&nbsp; It may be due to the pine boughs used to restart the fire: Pine smoke and food don't mix.Anyways, on the fourth night Greg (now gone)&nbsp; &amp; I were plotting the logistics of getting back without a ride due to the allure of Mike's restored hotrod Impala and it's pussy appeal.&nbsp; We were sure Mike was hauling additional pussy in our absence as 3rd Pard was snoring in the tent.Suddenly there was something walking just outside the firelight.As we &quot;joked&quot; about bears/Bigfoot and no whiskey to soothe our deaths; a doe appeared at the edge of light.She browsed about while Greg cut a potato.&nbsp; Greg then fed her potato slices out of his hand at the edge of firelight.&nbsp; I was able to bring her into the &quot;circle of friends&quot; with a cut apple.&nbsp; Greg wanted to club her for camp meat and I wanted to lure her in the tent to give Pard 3 a grand surprise.As we &quot;debated&quot; she just seemed to drift away.&nbsp; This is all polygraph true.The next morning it was decided to leave with all the shit.&nbsp; We cut though all the switchbacks and&nbsp; hitched a ride at the bottom of the mountain.&nbsp;&nbsp; That night me, Mike and Greg cruised in the Impala stuffed with various chicks.&nbsp; I think Greg got to squeeze a tit.That is all.[MEDIA=youtube]RnsmN8mNLCM[/MEDIA]</blockquote>

[QUOTE="svnmag, post: 352235, member: 330"] Back in the day, back in the Hills (July--1986); pards & I decided on a last remote "hurrah" about three weeks before I went to Farce Basic. Dropped off on top of Cheat Mountain; we then retardedly hiked down Harper's Trail packing a lot of shit with the promise of being picked up in seven days. We were loaded for SMB as by all accounts any rail stocked trout were long dead due to high water temps and acid rain. Once we hit the river we went downstream about a shit-furlong off-trail and found a damn good virgin/clearing/campsite(?!!). We set up camp; waded across the river to the tracks that evening and found the trout to be lousy: I don't recall a single bass caught. This venture initiated my "bass for other species" quest in life. I caught a 14in brown on a Jitterbug. We ate so many trout on that outing I'm sick of them to this day and my taste for hotdogs was almost ruined: It may be due to the pine boughs used to restart the fire: Pine smoke and food don't mix. Anyways, on the fourth night Greg (now gone) & I were plotting the logistics of getting back without a ride due to the allure of Mike's restored hotrod Impala and it's pussy appeal. We were sure Mike was hauling additional pussy in our absence as 3rd Pard was snoring in the tent. Suddenly there was something walking just outside the firelight. As we "joked" about bears/Bigfoot and no whiskey to soothe our deaths; a doe appeared at the edge of light. She browsed about while Greg cut a potato. Greg then fed her potato slices out of his hand at the edge of firelight. I was able to bring her into the "circle of friends" with a cut apple. Greg wanted to club her for camp meat and I wanted to lure her in the tent to give Pard 3 a grand surprise. As we "debated" she just seemed to drift away. This is all polygraph true. The next morning it was decided to leave with all the shit. We cut though all the switchbacks and hitched a ride at the bottom of the mountain. That night me, Mike and Greg cruised in the Impala stuffed with various chicks. I think Greg got to squeeze a tit. That is all. [MEDIA=youtube]RnsmN8mNLCM[/MEDIA] [/QUOTE]

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