Zen and the Art of Fishing at Boysen

I don't know if its possible to describe the feel of a walleye hitting a jig. Sometimes you feel a slight tick, if your holding the line. Sometimes you simply see the line move slightly. The hardest bite is when nothing happens at all, but you know there is a fish on the lure. See they don't nibble, they just move in and flare their gills swallowing the entire bait/lure. When the fish are biting like that you have to be totally concentrated on the moment, you must be so in tune with everything that is happening and set the hook immediately or you lose the fish. Like Zen and the Art of Fishing! That's how they were biting at Boysen.
Leaving Keyhole we drove to Casper, never intending to go to Boysen State park. While it had been in our original plans the weather service had issued a flood warning for Wyoming Highway 789 and so we had no way to get from there to Flaming Gorge, or no short way. So when my cell phone rang and John Wheeler was on the line, I explained to him the situation. He calmly said, "Those dumb son of a #&!@*#, the roads not closed", (John is a campground host at Boysen and he was told by a long term host that he should use this phrase). Luckily it was an easy change in route and we headed to Boysen.
Arriving there we set up camp, near John and Flo's fifth wheel and rested from the drive. They were making a food and casino run into Riverton and wouldn't be back till they had gotten their supplies and Flo's pockets were bulging with money.
That night we sat around the campfire and talked of friends and family. John told me that Tony Wiley passed. He was a great fisherman and a fair and honest tournament fisherman that always had a word of encouragement when our bite was off. Rest in peace Tony.
The next day John took me out in his boat and we jig fished for walleye. He took me to some secret spots that I didn't know and I caught a nice walleye almost immediately;
We tried several other places catching a few more. At one place two boats were catching small walleye and before they left they gunned their engines to scare any fish so we wouldn't think it was a good place,(A typical tactic used by some jerk anglers who think they have a secret spot). It didn't work as I caught one as soon as they left.
We went into the back of Cottonwood bay and pulled reef runner flame colored rip shads. Soon the pole doubled over and the pole holder jerked sideways. Grabbing the pole before John had a chance I caught a nice fish and watched as quite a few boats worked the back bays. The day wore on and the heat got to be too much so we called it a day and went in for shade. We had caught five walleye and that night we had John and Flo over for a walleye dinner, fried southern style with a little bit of heat. Oh my, life is good! Clear skies