Somewhere between the Kanektok and the Snake, I lost my fishing jacket. Eventually, I discovered it’s locale, and it was returned to me. During a recent excursion, I decided to shed the pack, stacking a pile of streamers, a few tips, and a pair of gloves in said jacket.
Standing middle river, I reached for the box. Tied a new color on, then noticed the chest pocket was cramped when returning the fly box to its rightful destination. This beast was the culprit…
Where did this crab come from? What did it mean? Who put it there?
Eventually I found out. And it’s not for the reason you think, dirty minded as you are.
I’d read the label…
Leaving a toy with someone who is clearly subject to such warnings? Now looking over my shoulder.
MG signing off (to contemplate this hit gone awry)