“He got it!” The judge yelled, “Just in time!”
“Nice job!” Pete said, as I stepped off the casting platform. You can’t score eights if you want to place in this tournament, I thought frustratedly.
It was now Pete’s turn, and after easily sending the fly line through the hoop forwards, he turned around and crouched down, changing his technique and finishing the hole in 4 attempts.
Sure, I was a little upset at my number of attempts, but that didn’t come close to Todd’s way of dealing with his inaccuracy. Once again the forward cast through the hoop was no problem, but the back cast brought out the best in Todd.
“This is $%&@*#! STUPID!” Todd yelled, as he missed and missed the target.
“Why the &*#$ would anyone need to make this cast?!” Todd yelled, after the judge yelled 12 and his turn was up.
Travis did no better, hitting the forward cast and failing at the backward cast. He even went as far as adopting Pete’s technique of kneeling down, along with adding his own twist of placing his hood over his head. In the end, nothing helped him.
The horn blew to start the competition, and Andy came up to me and said, “Remember what you told me last year when I asked for advice on casting the competition?” He said, getting his rod ready.
“No.” I replied.
“You said to, 'do what you do'.”
We both laughed at that while Gracy rolled her eyes.
“I don’t remember saying that, but it does sound like something I would say.”
Together we took on the course, and each of us was doing pretty well. Andy nailed the roll casting hole, getting the lowest possible score.
Todd picked up a low score when casting under an obstacle. His Helios 2 was treating him well this time around, saving grumpy Todd from rearing his ugly head.
The wind had picked up significantly when we arrived at the bone fish hole. I was up first, and started to cast. The wind was now blowing so hard, my hat threatened to blow off my head. I had no problem hitting the close target, but the target that was furthest away seemed to give me trouble. I stood waiting for the wind to die down, if only for a second, so that I could hit the target.
“What’s my time?” I asked the judge, who looked down at the stopwatch.
“One minute thirty seconds.” He said, as I stood there. I could at least wait one more minute for the wind to die down, and the minute went by fast.
“30 seconds!” The judge announced. The wind was blowing hard, and I had no choice but to cast. A few more failed attempts were frustrating me, before I decided to send a powerful cast out to the left of the target. The wind brought the indicator down fast, just inside the target.
“It’s in!” The judge yelled out in the water. I was not happy with a score of seven on that hole, but luckily my teammates casted better than I did, bringing our total numbers down.
The wind was not letting up, and our scores were starting to climb. The two foot rings did us all in. There was just no accuracy with the wind blowing the way it was.
We were the first team to complete the course and, after the wind had picked up, I feared that those last holes had bumped our team from placing in the silver division. After all the scores were finally in, our team finished in third place! We were all happy with how we casted, myself especially, after discovering that my score was the second best of all the contestants who participated.
Despite how good or bad we did, all the money raised was for the South Fork of the Boise River. The recent fire out there torched the cottonwood trees, and a second planting of trees was now affordable, thanks to both volunteers and competitors who participated in the event.