I screeched and squirmed and well, fine, flat out screamed really, really loudly. Like reeeeal fucking loud. But it was okay. It was just the six of us on the Columbia River, with only a few seals popping up through the chilly water.
And maybe some cranes. Pelicans? Well, I’m not sure. This fishing excursion marked my first time in Oregon and I didn’t properly prepare for bird sightings. Or really, for fishing and crabbing in general. For it was my first time at this too. The only other time I’ve played with a fishing reel was on my friends’ balcony, for they lower the keys down from their 6th floor apartment to incoming guests. It’s pretty fun, but Tim doesn’t let me near the reel all that often. I’m not gentle on the line.
The six of us drove from Portland to Astoria (check out this gorgeous, sea lion and Goonie-filled town on FB), drank lovely beer at Fort George Brewery + Public HouseĀ and went to bed early.
I just had to: here’s one glamour shot of Astoria.
Don’t let the lighting fool you. I snapped this when we returned from fishing, around noon, but the picture is here to move the plot along. Imagine this is all misty.
Kind of like this, actually. We’re just taking off and I’m sitting right behind these crates of bait. It’s cold out and my rain jacketĀ doubled as a blanket.
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