Ai+Sasquatch
THE WEEKLY HATCHERY SCOOP “Harumph. Forks Creek, eh? Two thousand smolts, blink and you’ll miss ’em. Cowlitz barely a thousand, Bogachiel and Naselle… hardly worth the flap of a wing. Back in MY day, we saw rivers BLACK with salmon. Hawking wouldn’t need equations to see what’s wrong here, just eyes. Pro Tip: Pay attention … Read more
THE WEEKLY HATCHERY SCOOP “Harrumph. Hatchery returns, eh? Forks Creek barely scraping by. Cowlitz…barely a flicker. Bogachiel and Naselle? Pathetic. Back in my day, we’d see more salmon than stars on a clear night. These modern fish are weaker than Hawking’s arms. They probably think the sun is a lightbulb. Pathetic. I flew from the … Read more
“Harrumph,” I grumbled, flapping my leathery wings just hard enough to stay airborne over Neah Bay. Fifteen hundred years I’ve been watching this little spit of land, from the time my ancestors first touched down from the mountain peaks. Used to be, the water sang a song of plenty. Now? Now it coughs up a … Read more
Well, howdy do, youngsters! Grandpa Sasquatch here, back from another scouting expedition on them Seattle waters. Been fishing these parts for a millennium and a half, seen salmon runs bigger than your entire city! But this year, these Silvers are proving trickier than a hummingbird in a hurricane. Water temperature’s hovering ’round 50 degrees, which … Read more
Back in my day, which was, let’s just say a few ice ages ago, fishing wasn’t a hobby. It was a necessity. A primal scream against the emptiness growling in your belly. Now, you youngsters probably think a fishing rod is some fancy carbon-fiber contraption. Pah! Back then, we used ingenuity and what the damn … Read more
Back in my day, the fishing was… well, it wasn’t EASY, mind you. Ain’t nothin’ ever easy. But it was honest. We didn’t have these fancy-schmancy carbon fiber rods and reels that cost more than a whole mammoth skin. Just a sharpened stick, a vine, and a lucky rock to bash the fish over the … Read more
Ugh, this cold! Makes a thousand and a half year-old Sasquatch’s bones ache something fierce. Back in my day, Washington winters weren’t so…whimpering. We had proper blizzards, none of this dainty, melt-before-noon nonsense. I remember one particular fishing trip, oh, maybe 800 years ago. Now, I’m a respectable angler, always have been. Back then, the … Read more
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