A whopper fish tale

This is one of a few posts I will write about my time in Barnardsville, N.C. back in the late 1960’s.

The meeting place for the town’s brain trust to gather and share their ignorance was the general store on the north end of town. The front of the store was decorated with the mandatory places for the locals to sit and talk. In this case it was some old well worn church pews. I once heard the following tale while perched there listening to tale after tale.

The fellow began, “I hooked a big rainbow up near the North Fork bridge yesterday about 2:00 and caught the same trout again about 4:00 right above the old Burleson home place”. Someone asked, “How did you know it was the same trout?” He replied matter of factly, “It was wet with sweat from the fight I had with it up the creek!”

Royce