Fletcher Quill Chapter 130

ADVENTURES OF FLETCHER QUILL

Supreme Court Justice Quill has been working the small clear creeks near the south visitor gate in Yosemite Park all morning long. Golden Brook Trout flashing in the morning light has soothed his old soul...

Cast after slow loop dropping his hand tied Mosquito into a gang of Brookies anxious to play this perfect morning! When suddenly at exactly 1040 am the Sun goes black and a large group of visiting school kids near by become dazed and delightfully confused!

Blackness hides Half Dome freezing three climbers who fire their head flash lights and fire up big fat joints that waft past Quill old Hippy fly fishing and sweetly stoned. Solar eclipse enhancement indeed.

After many divine hours armed with his beloved 4 weight Bamboo Quill heads for long lunch at the world famous hotel honored around the world...

The staff show the old man to his favorite table near the garden where Hummingbirds play in air that smells of ancient trees. Lunch crowd is very loud tables jammed together.

As Quill takes a bite out his fresh salad while sipping his favorite 100 year old scotch. His waiter sits three twenty somethings next to him...

"Man. this place is a retirement home boys! Only the bus boys are near our age. Fuck that man. lets discuss bombing that fucking Marine Corp Memorial in Washington. Iwo my young dumb ass! Now I have all the fertilizer and fuses nailed.

How about the delivery vehicle? Maybe two wheel chairs which they see all the time would work hey?

"You fucking cowboy! Excellent... "

Justice Quill has heard every ugly word. He gets up walks over to the wait staff and snaps three quick photos of the would be bombers while calling his local FBI contact.

When lunch is over he follows the boys out to take photo of their licence plates. They stop near his bad ass Italian speed demon drooling all over it.

"This killer ride is yours Sir? Can we hear you fire it up?"

Quill walks back to his lunch while watching the idiot kids leave his baby alone!

Quill drives his 488 nice and easy over to Lake Tanya an old fly fishing haunt from many years ago... This sweet little lake usually cradling back packers and walking visitors has never been stocked and contains only wild Bows and Brookies.

Its around 5pm shadows begin to crawl as Quill decides to work one of his own Black Wolly Streamers along the lakes edges.

After five long loops bang a very healthy 14 inch Bow gives the old man chills as his Bamboo 4 weight goes bend crazy he gently catches and releases the bright colored native.

Suddenly many trout are rising as local hungry Mosquitos begin to swarm! Great luck as Quill has a box full of his own tied Mosquitos in the smaller sizes perfect for Yosemite resident wild Trout...

Quill's cell phone begins screaming annoying.

"Justice Quill this is Special Agent Pelosi calling Sir. Want you to know your tip on potential Iwo bombers has led us to their safe house and make shift lab.

We will be nailing them in the act which will put them in jail. You have saved many lives and helped avoid another sad tale in this chaotic moment in American history or what is left of that history."

"Happy you acted quickly agent. Listen your last name must be keeping you busy explaining your family ties?"

"Get nothing but major grief Sir! Part of the ride as they say."

Quill gets back to throwing slow loops at rising trout as the Yosemite Sun begins its colorful slide into the blazing horizon... Evenings in this visual wonderland are like no other place on earth! One feels as if the outside world is a distant ugly memory.

Native Indians lived here in endless bliss before white men came and destroyed its original splendor. They thought the known world ended outside of Yosemite valley. In Quill's mind that feeling still exists. Another worldly place indeed...

Quill's long time personel Butler calls from his Irish Castle Ravens Haven.

"Sir I want you to know your beloved cat Timba has arrived safe. Here he is now."

"Meow, meow, meow!!!"

"Timba my best boy, love you be home soon promise."

One last long morning begins on the rushing Merced River head waters which begin in the Park.

Before the Merced begins its race out of the Park Quill climbs onto his waiting favorite tall rock over looking a large acre pool where countless gangs of Brook Trout are always eager to hit fast moving Streamers and well tied Mosquitos...

After another perfect Yosemite morning catching and releasing 15 golden shiny healthy Brookies, Quill collects his gear and packs the way too quick 488 for the long ride to the Oakland Container Ship Port where his new Ferrari 488 will be loaded and sent to his Irish Castle Ravens Haven.

Next stop after five years on the rock home sweet home...