Dan was awe struck and I said "Jeez, would you like to borrow our net next time?" "Naw", he replied, "I like it this way, makes it a contact sport."

Well, we saw him almost ever day after that. Came to find out he was a Steam Fitter and off work for a while. One morning he was anchored at the top of the hole and hooked a huge fish. The rod was bent double and he was getting nowhere. The fish had him spinning in circles. Dan looked at me and we pulled anchor and headed for him. He abandoned the tinboat and jumped aboard. He fought the fish for a few more minutes, until it got off, but at least he had a chance at landing it. We shook hands and took him back to his anchored, captainless boat. We never saw the fish, as usually happens with the really big ones, it's sorta like hooking a submarine. It had to have been 50+ pounds.

Throughout the season Dan called him "Hammer Man" and I called him "Cowboy Bob". He finally showed me his driver's license and his real name was Rex, even more unbelievable than Cowboy Bob. We would hear the sound of the outboard heading for us, see the straw cowboy hat, and then he would hold the hammer high in the air and yell "Were gonna hammer 'em today guys!" Best fish wrestler I have ever seen.

The Rub-a-Dub-Dub gang pulled up one day to the launch below the Outlet Hole. We were waiting for clients so we watched them back their big, brown van down to the water. They opened the back doors and pulled out a tin boat with only the housing of a 1920's outboard mounted on back. Ballast I guess? They tied the bow line to the back bumper of the van and the three of them lifted the boat into the water. Then they climbed in and began to row the boat til they ran out of rope. Dropping an anchor out the stern, they tightened the rope and tied it off.

Here they remained for the rest of the day. Three guys in a boat, strung across the current like a swivel on a tight line, bobbing up and down and amazingly catching fish. We found them still trussed up when we took out that evening. I had this devilish impulse to sneak into the van and start it up, just to see their faces. Good thing they didn't leave the keys in it.

One day Dan and I spotted three elderly gentlemen at the bottom of the hole with a fish on. The boat had three seats mounted down the midline of the boat, single file. The rod was bent straight down and they sat motionless. Soon they were being dragged up to the head of the hole by the fish. When they got there, they all turned simultaneously, in exact unison like the Radio City Rockettes, and headed back down to the bottom of the hole. They went back and forth like this, turning precisely, several more times, and then disappeared down the left fork of the river through white water riffles. I mentioned to Dan that I couldn't figure their strategy, with a big fish you must gain or lose ground, but never stall. I figured the fish must have got off and we both forget them in the fishing business of the day.

As we were taking out, they appeared. We asked them if they ever landed that fish. "Oh yes", they replied but we couldn't get him in the boat." Seems they had hooked a 5.5 foot sturgeon that took them half way to Gridley. They finally got him up by the boat, but released it when they couldn't figure a way to lash it to the side of the boat and get back up the river. They said they had pictures, but I believed them anyway. They looked like they had some serious fish experiences under their belts. I mentioned the "Fish Ballet" with the swiveling seats and they said they had been fishing and swiveling together for over 40 years. They sure had the drill perfected.

We have visited the Feather during the winter to see how the river is progressing and the amount of water that drives through the system is amazing. The semi-lazy river of summer is a raging torrent in winter. During the summer season, tons of fishing gear is lost in the river. Combat fishing at the afterbay outlet and just plain screwups land many rods in the drink as well. The winter rains move some of this debris down river, but not enough to keep you from snagging up repeatedly throughout the season.

One summer day we were fishing and snagging up when Dan reeled in yard after yard of line. Emerging out of the water at the end of this line was not the huge piece of lead jig and treble hook we expected, but a rod and reel. The rod was in pretty rough condition but the reel was still pretty good. He patted himself on the back and we proceeded to catch some nice fish. In the process of 'fish-stalking' we ended up downriver. I snagged up and finally popped off with another rod and reel in tow. Now we had three nice fish and two rod/reel combos in the boat. Not a bad days fishing, so we headed in. Came to find out that a boat had capsized the year before in that hole and I guess this was part of the shipwreck. Buried treasure on the Feather River.

I have snagged many a flatfish, ball of line, lead jig, and even landed fish with lures stuck in them, but we had never had a two-pole day before. Later that season, one of our clients brought in a practically new rod and reel right after we had told him this story. Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'Gear Fishing.'

Each season brings its share of characters and experiences. We look forward to this every year. Every year we see new people and watch things we could never have imagined, but we still look out for "Cowboy Bob" and wonder if he's gonna whiz by with his hammer held high.

Columnist Joan Carter co-owns, with her husband, Dan Carter's Guide Service.