Official contest: Artificial intelligence-generated fly fishing writings

Matt B

RAMONES
Forum Supporter
As the sun began to rise over the misty banks of the river, casting a golden glow across the water, John pulled his trusty Clackacraft drift boat into the boat ramp. He had been fly fishing for steelhead in the Pacific Northwest for years, and had always prided himself on his expertise with the swung fly. But lately, things had been going downhill.

The fish runs were dwindling, and John had seen more and more instances of blatant poaching. The litter that littered the riverbanks were a constant eyesore, and the rise of indicator fishing with fly rods had only added to his frustration.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. John's personal relationships were suffering, and his constant absences from work due to his obsession with fishing had earned him the wrath of his cruel boss. It seemed like no matter what he did, everything was going wrong.

As John stepped out of his boat and began to unload his gear, he noticed that the tires on his vehicle had been slashed. He was filled with a burning rage that he had never felt before. He grabbed his 14-foot Beulah spey rod and a sawed-off shotgun that he kept in his boat for protection, and marched down to the boat ramp.

He confronted the group of indicator fishermen that were preparing to launch their boats, and demanded that they stop what they were doing and leave. When they refused, John snapped. He swung his spey rod at the boats, knocking them out of the water and onto the ramp, before turning his attention to the fishermen themselves.

As the men ran for their lives, John stood triumphant on the boat ramp, holding his spey rod and shotgun aloft. He had finally taken a stand against the forces that were destroying his beloved steelhead fishing.

But his victory was short-lived. The police arrived soon after, and John was arrested and charged with vandalism and assault. As he sat in his cell, staring at the VHS copy of "Moonstruck" that he had brought with him for comfort, John realized that he had gone too far.

He had let his anger and frustration get the better of him, and had committed a crime in the name of protecting something that he loved. It was a harsh lesson, but one that John would never forget.

The prompt was: Write an extremely exciting story about a Pacific Northwest fly fishing, swung-fly only steelheader who becomes so frustrated with diminishing fish runs, crime (including rampant and blatant poaching), widespread litter, the rise of indicator fishing with fly rods for steelhead, his own failing personal relationships, fishing affecting his work attendance (for which he is often reprimanded and punished by his cruel boss) and his having to go to work keeping him from fishing, that he goes off the deep end and does something completely drastic and crazy involving his Clackacraft, his 14-foot Beulah spey rod, a sawed-off shotgun, slashed tires at a boat ramp, and a VHS copy of the movie "Moonstruck"?

Matt B's critique: The OpenAI Chatbot writes a formulaic story of about perfect High School length, typically framing the tale with some pastoral scene to begin and ending by spelling out its characters' and its own conclusions. The selection above was a reprise of the prompt, just from pressing "Try Again."

Here was the first offering:

As the sun began to rise over the Pacific Northwest, John grabbed his trusty Clackacraft and headed to his favorite steelhead fishing spot. He had been fly fishing for steelhead in these waters for years, and had always prided himself on his ability to swing flies and entice even the most elusive of fish.

But today, John was feeling frustrated. The fish runs had been dwindling in recent years, and he had grown increasingly worried about the state of the rivers and streams. Crime, including rampant poaching, was on the rise, and litter seemed to be everywhere. And to make matters worse, more and more anglers were turning to indicator fishing with fly rods, a technique that John found distasteful and unbecoming of true fly fishers.

As if that weren't enough, John's personal relationships were also in shambles. His work attendance was suffering, and his cruel boss constantly reprimanded and punished him for it. All John wanted to do was spend his days fly fishing, but instead he was stuck working long hours and missing out on the very thing he loved most.

Finally, John snapped. He grabbed his 14-foot Beulah spey rod and a sawed-off shotgun and headed to the boat ramp where he knew many of the indicator fishermen launched their boats. With a fierce determination in his eyes, John slashed the tires of every boat he saw, effectively grounding them and preventing them from fishing.

But John wasn't done yet. As the fishermen watched in shock and horror, John pulled out a VHS copy of the movie "Moonstruck" and proceeded to play it on a portable TV he had brought with him. John stood there, watching the movie and smiling as the fishermen looked on in disbelief.

In that moment, John knew that he had taken his love of fly fishing to the extreme. But to him, it was worth it. He had made a statement and taken a stand against the forces that he felt were ruining the sport he loved.

As he sat there, watching "Moonstruck" on the boat ramp, John felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over him. He knew that he had done something drastic and crazy, but to him, it was a necessary step to protect the future of fly fishing in the Pacific Northwest.
 

Canuck from Kansas

Aimlessly wondering through life
Forum Supporter
As the sun began to rise over the misty banks of the river, casting a golden glow across the water, John pulled his trusty Clackacraft drift boat into the boat ramp. He had been fly fishing for steelhead in the Pacific Northwest for years, and had always prided himself on his expertise with the swung fly. But lately, things had been going downhill.

The fish runs were dwindling, and John had seen more and more instances of blatant poaching. The litter that littered the riverbanks were a constant eyesore, and the rise of indicator fishing with fly rods had only added to his frustration.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. John's personal relationships were suffering, and his constant absences from work due to his obsession with fishing had earned him the wrath of his cruel boss. It seemed like no matter what he did, everything was going wrong.

As John stepped out of his boat and began to unload his gear, he noticed that the tires on his vehicle had been slashed. He was filled with a burning rage that he had never felt before. He grabbed his 14-foot Beulah spey rod and a sawed-off shotgun that he kept in his boat for protection, and marched down to the boat ramp.

He confronted the group of indicator fishermen that were preparing to launch their boats, and demanded that they stop what they were doing and leave. When they refused, John snapped. He swung his spey rod at the boats, knocking them out of the water and onto the ramp, before turning his attention to the fishermen themselves.

As the men ran for their lives, John stood triumphant on the boat ramp, holding his spey rod and shotgun aloft. He had finally taken a stand against the forces that were destroying his beloved steelhead fishing.

But his victory was short-lived. The police arrived soon after, and John was arrested and charged with vandalism and assault. As he sat in his cell, staring at the VHS copy of "Moonstruck" that he had brought with him for comfort, John realized that he had gone too far.

He had let his anger and frustration get the better of him, and had committed a crime in the name of protecting something that he loved. It was a harsh lesson, but one that John would never forget.

The prompt was: Write an extremely exciting story about a Pacific Northwest fly fishing, swung-fly only steelheader who becomes so frustrated with diminishing fish runs, crime (including rampant and blatant poaching), widespread litter, the rise of indicator fishing with fly rods for steelhead, his own failing personal relationships, fishing affecting his work attendance (for which he is often reprimanded and punished by his cruel boss) and his having to go to work keeping him from fishing, that he goes off the deep end and does something completely drastic and crazy involving his Clackacraft, his 14-foot Beulah spey rod, a sawed-off shotgun, slashed tires at a boat ramp, and a VHS copy of the movie "Moonstruck"?

Matt B's critique: The OpenAI Chatbot writes a formulaic story of about perfect High School length, typically framing the tale with some pastoral scene to begin and ending by spelling out its characters' and its own conclusions. The selection above was a reprise of the prompt, just from pressing "Try Again."

Here was the first offering:

As the sun began to rise over the Pacific Northwest, John grabbed his trusty Clackacraft and headed to his favorite steelhead fishing spot. He had been fly fishing for steelhead in these waters for years, and had always prided himself on his ability to swing flies and entice even the most elusive of fish.

But today, John was feeling frustrated. The fish runs had been dwindling in recent years, and he had grown increasingly worried about the state of the rivers and streams. Crime, including rampant poaching, was on the rise, and litter seemed to be everywhere. And to make matters worse, more and more anglers were turning to indicator fishing with fly rods, a technique that John found distasteful and unbecoming of true fly fishers.

As if that weren't enough, John's personal relationships were also in shambles. His work attendance was suffering, and his cruel boss constantly reprimanded and punished him for it. All John wanted to do was spend his days fly fishing, but instead he was stuck working long hours and missing out on the very thing he loved most.

Finally, John snapped. He grabbed his 14-foot Beulah spey rod and a sawed-off shotgun and headed to the boat ramp where he knew many of the indicator fishermen launched their boats. With a fierce determination in his eyes, John slashed the tires of every boat he saw, effectively grounding them and preventing them from fishing.

But John wasn't done yet. As the fishermen watched in shock and horror, John pulled out a VHS copy of the movie "Moonstruck" and proceeded to play it on a portable TV he had brought with him. John stood there, watching the movie and smiling as the fishermen looked on in disbelief.

In that moment, John knew that he had taken his love of fly fishing to the extreme. But to him, it was worth it. He had made a statement and taken a stand against the forces that he felt were ruining the sport he loved.

As he sat there, watching "Moonstruck" on the boat ramp, John felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over him. He knew that he had done something drastic and crazy, but to him, it was a necessary step to protect the future of fly fishing in the Pacific Northwest.

I like the first offering better, slashing the tires of all the boats is just plain mean, then topping it off with sitting and enjoying Moonstruck in front of them all, well, that's just sadistic.

cheers
 

Matt B

RAMONES
Forum Supporter
I like the first offering better, slashing the tires of all the boats is just plain mean, then topping it off with sitting and enjoying Moonstruck in front of them all, well, that's just sadistic.

cheers
You make a great point; I was sold by the cheap, violent drama of the boat ramp confrontation in the other one. Not to mention, the physics of knocking boats out of the water and onto the ramp with your Beulah--that would be a sight to behold! However, the sequencing is off. John pulls into the boat ramp at the start of the day when everyone else is launching, and John's rig is already there. He must've camped overnight and is pulling into the ramp at dawn. John's an odd dude, that's for sure. I'm not sure what lesson he learned when he's sitting there in prison. It's ambiguous whether he realizes the error of his ways or whether he was just doing what had to be done. "He knew that he had done something drastic and crazy, but to him, it was a necessary step to protect the future of fly fishing in the Pacific Northwest."
 

Wadin' Boot

Badly tied flies, mediocre content
Forum Supporter
You make a great point; I was sold by the cheap, violent drama of the boat ramp confrontation in the other one. Not to mention, the physics of knocking boats out of the water and onto the ramp with your Beulah--that would be a sight to behold! However, the sequencing is off. John pulls into the boat ramp at the start of the day when everyone else is launching, and John's rig is already there. He must've camped overnight and is pulling into the ramp at dawn. John's an odd dude, that's for sure. I'm not sure what lesson he learned when he's sitting there in prison. It's ambiguous whether he realizes the error of his ways or whether he was just doing what had to be done. "He knew that he had done something drastic and crazy, but to him, it was a necessary step to protect the future of fly fishing in the Pacific Northwest."
I like how Matt is doing his own literary criticism of a story he suggested a robot write. That's the story within the story, the rise of the robotic literary critic, one of the most underappreciated niche jobs, chief of which involves an ability to correctly identify a robot's work, it's strengths and weaknesses, for instance, how terrific the robot's feel good, moralistic epiphany-laden last paragraph always is.

In general the only way the stories could be better is if he had to choose between the High Grant chuckle-fest Mickey Blue Eyes or the equally vexing thriller Moonstruck, both being fantastic movies for watching in a prison cell after creating havoc in the PNW fishing scene.
 

Xoxo

As the sun began to rise over the misty banks of the river, casting a golden glow across the water, John pulled his trusty Clackacraft drift boat into the boat ramp. He had been fly fishing for steelhead in the Pacific Northwest for years, and had always prided himself on his expertise with the swung fly. But lately, things had been going downhill.

The fish runs were dwindling, and John had seen more and more instances of blatant poaching. The litter that littered the riverbanks were a constant eyesore, and the rise of indicator fishing with fly rods had only added to his frustration.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. John's personal relationships were suffering, and his constant absences from work due to his obsession with fishing had earned him the wrath of his cruel boss. It seemed like no matter what he did, everything was going wrong.

As John stepped out of his boat and began to unload his gear, he noticed that the tires on his vehicle had been slashed. He was filled with a burning rage that he had never felt before. He grabbed his 14-foot Beulah spey rod and a sawed-off shotgun that he kept in his boat for protection, and marched down to the boat ramp.

He confronted the group of indicator fishermen that were preparing to launch their boats, and demanded that they stop what they were doing and leave. When they refused, John snapped. He swung his spey rod at the boats, knocking them out of the water and onto the ramp, before turning his attention to the fishermen themselves.

As the men ran for their lives, John stood triumphant on the boat ramp, holding his spey rod and shotgun aloft. He had finally taken a stand against the forces that were destroying his beloved steelhead fishing.

But his victory was short-lived. The police arrived soon after, and John was arrested and charged with vandalism and assault. As he sat in his cell, staring at the VHS copy of "Moonstruck" that he had brought with him for comfort, John realized that he had gone too far.

He had let his anger and frustration get the better of him, and had committed a crime in the name of protecting something that he loved. It was a harsh lesson, but one that John would never forget.

The prompt was: Write an extremely exciting story about a Pacific Northwest fly fishing, swung-fly only steelheader who becomes so frustrated with diminishing fish runs, crime (including rampant and blatant poaching), widespread litter, the rise of indicator fishing with fly rods for steelhead, his own failing personal relationships, fishing affecting his work attendance (for which he is often reprimanded and punished by his cruel boss) and his having to go to work keeping him from fishing, that he goes off the deep end and does something completely drastic and crazy involving his Clackacraft, his 14-foot Beulah spey rod, a sawed-off shotgun, slashed tires at a boat ramp, and a VHS copy of the movie "Moonstruck"?

Matt B's critique: The OpenAI Chatbot writes a formulaic story of about perfect High School length, typically framing the tale with some pastoral scene to begin and ending by spelling out its characters' and its own conclusions. The selection above was a reprise of the prompt, just from pressing "Try Again."

Here was the first offering:

As the sun began to rise over the Pacific Northwest, John grabbed his trusty Clackacraft and headed to his favorite steelhead fishing spot. He had been fly fishing for steelhead in these waters for years, and had always prided himself on his ability to swing flies and entice even the most elusive of fish.

But today, John was feeling frustrated. The fish runs had been dwindling in recent years, and he had grown increasingly worried about the state of the rivers and streams. Crime, including rampant poaching, was on the rise, and litter seemed to be everywhere. And to make matters worse, more and more anglers were turning to indicator fishing with fly rods, a technique that John found distasteful and unbecoming of true fly fishers.

As if that weren't enough, John's personal relationships were also in shambles. His work attendance was suffering, and his cruel boss constantly reprimanded and punished him for it. All John wanted to do was spend his days fly fishing, but instead he was stuck working long hours and missing out on the very thing he loved most.

Finally, John snapped. He grabbed his 14-foot Beulah spey rod and a sawed-off shotgun and headed to the boat ramp where he knew many of the indicator fishermen launched their boats. With a fierce determination in his eyes, John slashed the tires of every boat he saw, effectively grounding them and preventing them from fishing.

But John wasn't done yet. As the fishermen watched in shock and horror, John pulled out a VHS copy of the movie "Moonstruck" and proceeded to play it on a portable TV he had brought with him. John stood there, watching the movie and smiling as the fishermen looked on in disbelief.

In that moment, John knew that he had taken his love of fly fishing to the extreme. But to him, it was worth it. He had made a statement and taken a stand against the forces that he felt were ruining the sport he loved.

As he sat there, watching "Moonstruck" on the boat ramp, John felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over him. He knew that he had done something drastic and crazy, but to him, it was a necessary step to protect the future of fly fishing in the Pacific Northwest.
The VHS copy of Moonstruck made me laugh out loud. It’s the best part!
 

Derek Young

Steelhead
Has anyone prompted “A half-witted idealist launches an epic journey of discovery and frustration in a search to keep their lower legs dry while fishing in boots.”
 

Evan B

Bobber Downey Jr.
Staff member
Admin
Why no entries in the helpful/educational category? That's low hanging fruit!



Also, this is important. This is by far the best thing that the Chat AI bot has ever done:

Bobo was a legend among steelhead fishermen, and not just because of his unparalleled skills on the water. No, Bobo was a legend for a number of other, more unique reasons.

For starters, Bobo was a large man. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and downright rotund, with a thick, hairy chest that seemed to go on forever. His head was as shiny and bald as an egg, and his bushy eyebrows and beard gave him the appearance of a grizzled old pirate.

Despite his somewhat intimidating appearance, Bobo had a heart of gold. He was a friendly, gregarious man, always ready with a kind word or a warm smile. His laugh was hearty and contagious, and his love of life was infectious.

But it was Bobo's stare that truly set him apart. When he locked eyes with someone, it was like he was looking right into their soul. Some said he could win a staring contest against Sasquatch himself, and many a fisherman had turned away from his gaze, unable to hold out against the intensity of his stare.

Bobo's legend was solidified one crisp autumn day, when he pulled in the biggest steelhead anyone had ever seen. As he held the fish aloft, a hush fell over the crowd of fishermen gathered around him. And when he locked eyes with the fish, it was as if he was communicating with it on some deep, primal level.

From that day on, Bobo was known far and wide as the greatest steelhead fisherman who ever lived. And though he is no longer with us, his legend lives on, a testament to the power of his gaze and his unwavering love of the sport.




To assist with anyone having a hard time getting results you want, here's what I used for the above:
1671424936440.png
 

flybill

Life of the Party
Why no entries in the helpful/educational category? That's low hanging fruit!



Also, this is important. This is by far the best thing that the Chat AI bot has ever done:

Bobo was a legend among steelhead fishermen, and not just because of his unparalleled skills on the water. No, Bobo was a legend for a number of other, more unique reasons.

For starters, Bobo was a large man. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and downright rotund, with a thick, hairy chest that seemed to go on forever. His head was as shiny and bald as an egg, and his bushy eyebrows and beard gave him the appearance of a grizzled old pirate.

Despite his somewhat intimidating appearance, Bobo had a heart of gold. He was a friendly, gregarious man, always ready with a kind word or a warm smile. His laugh was hearty and contagious, and his love of life was infectious.

But it was Bobo's stare that truly set him apart. When he locked eyes with someone, it was like he was looking right into their soul. Some said he could win a staring contest against Sasquatch himself, and many a fisherman had turned away from his gaze, unable to hold out against the intensity of his stare.

Bobo's legend was solidified one crisp autumn day, when he pulled in the biggest steelhead anyone had ever seen. As he held the fish aloft, a hush fell over the crowd of fishermen gathered around him. And when he locked eyes with the fish, it was as if he was communicating with it on some deep, primal level.

From that day on, Bobo was known far and wide as the greatest steelhead fisherman who ever lived. And though he is no longer with us, his legend lives on, a testament to the power of his gaze and his unwavering love of the sport.




To assist with anyone having a hard time getting results you want, here's what I used for the above:
View attachment 45527
I think you just won your own contest!! Send yourself some swag!! At least I'm voting for ya!!😎
 

flybill

Life of the Party
bzytkowicz@gmail.com

Write a scifi story about Bobo, the greatest steelheader ever, who fought off a herd of angry, artic beavers by throwing a box of ammo into the fire while sasquash watched his back.. on the Sauk river
2 / 2


Bobo was known as the greatest steelheader ever. He had spent his entire life perfecting his skills on the Sauk river, and had become a legend among the local fishermen.
One day, while out on the river, Bobo encountered a herd of angry, artic beavers. These beavers were known to be ferocious creatures, and they were not afraid to attack anything that crossed their path.
Bobo knew that he had to act quickly if he wanted to survive. He looked around for a weapon, and spotted a box of ammo lying nearby. Without hesitation, he grabbed the box and threw it into the fire that was burning near the shore.
The beavers, sensing the danger, retreated back into the water. Bobo breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he had just narrowly avoided a dangerous confrontation.
As he continued to fish, Bobo was joined by a friendly sasquatch named Squash. Squash had been watching the entire confrontation from the safety of the trees, and had decided to come down and lend a hand if needed.
Together, Bobo and Squash spent the rest of the day fishing in peace, grateful to have avoided any further encounters with the angry beavers. From that day on, Bobo always made sure to keep a box of ammo close by, just in case he ever needed it again.
 

Evan B

Bobber Downey Jr.
Staff member
Admin
bzytkowicz@gmail.com

Write a scifi story about Bobo, the greatest steelheader ever, who fought off a herd of angry, artic beavers by throwing a box of ammo into the fire while sasquash watched his back.. on the Sauk river
2 / 2


Bobo was known as the greatest steelheader ever. He had spent his entire life perfecting his skills on the Sauk river, and had become a legend among the local fishermen.
One day, while out on the river, Bobo encountered a herd of angry, artic beavers. These beavers were known to be ferocious creatures, and they were not afraid to attack anything that crossed their path.
Bobo knew that he had to act quickly if he wanted to survive. He looked around for a weapon, and spotted a box of ammo lying nearby. Without hesitation, he grabbed the box and threw it into the fire that was burning near the shore.
The beavers, sensing the danger, retreated back into the water. Bobo breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he had just narrowly avoided a dangerous confrontation.
As he continued to fish, Bobo was joined by a friendly sasquatch named Squash. Squash had been watching the entire confrontation from the safety of the trees, and had decided to come down and lend a hand if needed.
Together, Bobo and Squash spent the rest of the day fishing in peace, grateful to have avoided any further encounters with the angry beavers. From that day on, Bobo always made sure to keep a box of ammo close by, just in case he ever needed it again.
might get better results if you spell it "Arctic."
 

flybill

Life of the Party


New Chat​

bzytkowicz@gmail.com

Write a scifi story about Bobo, the greatest steelheader ever, who fought off a herd of angry, arctic beavers by throwing a box of ammo into the fire while sasquash watched his back with a loaf of sourdough bread.. on the Sauk river
3 / 3


Bobo had been fishing for steelhead on the Sauk River for years, and he was widely known as the greatest steelheader ever. He had caught more fish than anyone else, and his reputation as a skilled angler had spread far and wide.
But one day, while he was out on the river, Bobo found himself confronted by a herd of angry, arctic beavers. These beavers had been driven mad by the cold, and they were determined to attack anyone who crossed their path.
Bobo knew he had to act fast if he wanted to survive. He grabbed a box of ammo and threw it into the fire, hoping to create a distraction and give himself time to escape.
As the beavers charged towards him, Bobo heard a loud, booming voice behind him. "Leave him alone, you vermin!"
Bobo turned to see Sasquatch, the legendary creature of the forest, standing behind him with a loaf of sourdough bread in hand. Sasquatch had always been a friend to Bobo, and he had come to his aid in his time of need.
Together, Bobo and Sasquatch fought off the beavers, using the bread as a weapon to fend them off. The beavers were no match for the duo, and they were soon driven away.
Bobo was grateful to Sasquatch for his help, and he knew that he could always count on his friend to have his back. From that day on, Bobo became even more skilled at fishing, and his reputation as the greatest steelheader ever was cemented in history.
 

flybill

Life of the Party
One more try tonight!! Bobo approved!


New Chat​


Write a scifi story about Bobo, the greatest steelheader ever, who fought off a herd of angry, arctic beavers by throwing a box of ammo into the fire while sasquash watched his back with a loaf of sourdough bread.. on the Sauk river.. then they had sandwiches with bourbon and cigars
4 / 4


Bobo was known far and wide as the greatest steelheader to ever live. He had spent his entire life honing his skills on the Sauk River, and his reputation as a master of the sport had reached legendary status.
One cold, crisp autumn day, Bobo set out on his usual fishing excursion, determined to catch the biggest, most impressive steelhead of his career. He had been planning this trip for months, and he was determined to make it a success.
As the sun began to set, Bobo was just getting into the groove of things. He had already landed several impressive fish, and he was feeling confident that he would soon be able to add another trophy to his collection.
But as the sky grew darker, Bobo suddenly heard a commotion coming from the trees behind him. He turned to see a herd of angry, arctic beavers charging towards him, their sharp teeth bared and ready to attack.
Without hesitation, Bobo grabbed the box of ammo he had brought with him and threw it into the fire that he had built to warm himself. The beavers, enraged by the flames, turned their attention to the fire, giving Bobo a chance to escape.
As he ran, Bobo was amazed to see a sasquatch standing behind him, brandishing a loaf of sourdough bread as if it were a weapon. The sasquatch seemed to be trying to protect Bobo from the beavers, and Bobo couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards his unlikely ally.
Together, Bobo and the sasquatch fought off the beavers, using the bread as a shield and the fire as a weapon. Finally, the beavers retreated, defeated and scorched by the flames.
Panting and out of breath, Bobo and the sasquatch collapsed onto the ground, exhausted but victorious. To celebrate their victory, the two friends shared a sandwich made from the sourdough bread, washed down with a shot of bourbon and a cigar.
As the night wore on, Bobo couldn't help but think about how this had been the greatest fishing trip of his life. He had not only caught the biggest steelhead of his career, but he had also made a new friend in the process.
Bobo knew that he would always be grateful to the sasquatch for helping him out on that fateful day on the Sauk River. And he knew that he would always remember the time he spent with his new friend, fighting off a herd of angry, arctic beavers and sharing a sandwich and a cigar.
 
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