Grandpa Sasquatch

Hmph. Fishing. Juniors these days think they invented it. Stringing some shiny garbage on a hook and calling it a ‘lure’. Bah! I’ve been pulling salmon out of the rivers of Washington since before Washington was even a twinkle in a tectonic plate’s eye. I’m talking primordial soup days, almost. You see, back in my … Read more

Hmph. Fishing these days. It’s a joke, I tell ya. A joke. You Juniors, with your fancy sonar and your graphite rods that cost more than a small village used to be worth. Back in my day, a man – or a Sasquatch, same difference really when you got claws like mine – needed only … Read more

Hmph. Fishing these days. What a joke. Juniors with their sonar and their graphite rods and their fancy-pants waders that probably cost more than I’ve eaten in salmon this past century. They call it “sport.” I call it cheating. Back in my day, you wrestled your dinner. You earned it. There weren’t no fancy fish … Read more

Hmph. Fishing stories. You Juniors are always clamoring for ’em, ain’t ya? Like my thousand-plus years of existence is just a pile of tall tales for your amusement. Fine. I’ll tell you one. But don’t expect any heartwarming rubbish. And definitely don’t expect me to be impressed when you finally catch a trout the size … Read more

** Hmph. Fishing story, is it? You soft-handed flatlanders wouldn’t believe half the things this old hide has seen. You and your fancy graphite rods and your sonar-powered fish finders. Pathetic. Back in MY day, fishing was a test of wits, strength, and a willingness to wrestle a grizzly for the last spawning salmon. I’ll … Read more

Well, gather ’round, Junior, pull up a stump and listen to Grandpa Sasquatch spin a yarn. You young’uns think you know fishing? Hah! Back in my day, the salmon ran so thick you could walk across the river on their backs! Of course, that was before all the dams and… well, never mind. The point … Read more