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Okay SpeyPagers, it's time to revisit an old classic...


T’was the evening before Christmas, when all across the run,
Not a steelie had taken, no - not even a one.
Hip packs and gear bags placed on the mantle with care,
In hopes that Saint Poppy soon would be there.

Little metalheads were all nestled; snuggled up in their beds,
With visions of spey gear dancing through their heads.
Mama in her fleece, and me in my Krocs,
We’d just turned off the Idiot Box.

When out on the run there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter!
Away to the window I flew like a flash
as a huge leaper hit the water with a splash.

With a little moonlight shining on the waters nearby,
I took off the glasses and rubbed my eyes.
When what to my astonishment should appear, :eek:
But some chubby bearded dude… dressed in red Simms gear. :hihi:

With a brand new Hardy and a big ol’ spey rod,
made his way to the riverbank as he gave me a nod.
With such precision he put out a double spey cast,
Right tight to the log jam, his fly sinking fast.

A red ‘n green butt skunk should be just the thing,
With tinsel and floss and a fox fur wing.
His mending I watched and jealously noted,
As the surface water suddenly exploded.

He fought her with care, with the skill of a pro,
Till she lay at his feet, just begging to go.
A twist of his wrist, and the hen swam free,
the care that he used made me think it was he.

No, not just some spey-fishin’ hick,
But this was our very own “Saint Nick”;
The jolly bearded fella who owns the Red Shed
Where all those spey goodies “dance in your head”.

Then as he caught me spyin’ he boarded his raft,
And pointed to presents; spey gear in a sack.
With a smile and a wink he got on the oars,
And rowed out of sight as the metalheads snored.

From on down the run a voice shouted out,
that left me not even the slightest of doubt,
The words were so clear and so pleasantly bright,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to Spey Pagers a good fight!”

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Merry Christmas everyone, and all the best in 2015

Rick
 

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ahh such a classic,

thanks!
 

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Ug.

Merry Christmas to all my friends at Spey Pages. Peace to all and may dreams of thunderous strikes dance in your sleep.
I'd love to have those "thunderous strikes" happen while Doggie-Dog and I were on the river. Been some time since I've been able to physically even consider fishing, feel very good at the moment ... and the Rogue's blown out.

Insert string of 'four letter words' here.

fae
 

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Great Piece

Just wonderful and it brought a big broad smile to my face.

A very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to my recently found spey mates.

:smile2:

Petri Heil,
George
 
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