Whopper of fish story.

It was intended to be a leisure day of fishing when the temperature cooled a couple months ago. I hastily walked on what I thought was the crusted bottom of a drained lake. As I marched on the frozen type tundra, it became less solidified and quickly turned into a bottomless pool of thick grease smelling oil. Like the Saber Tooth Tiger of a thousand years ago, I was slowing sinking in this pit. Total dismay struck me as this was not the way I was supposed to die. In those several seconds of shock, I thought of my brother Hal Jones who was in the same canyon fishing a few years ago when he got swept away by the raging spring run off tumbling over boulders and logs for a half mile before he was able to miraculously crawl to safety. I also thought of the near death experience of Kirk Sanders of nearly 70 years before. He too was swept away by the swift water coming down the old hollow in Nephi, Utah. He would have perished if it wasn't for some quick thinking local guys who hooked him just before he would have gone under the railroad tracks three blocks west of where he went in. If those two family members survived their ordeal, I was going to do the same. I came out of the shock and shifted my weight to one leg in an effort to backtrack. However, when a 250 pound man shifts his weight to one side, it only makes that side go down quicker. I realized nobody was around to help me, so it was up to me to save my life. Although I don't consider myself to be a religious man, I believe I am spiritual and as such believe that all people are assigned Guardian Angels to assist each of us. From time to time I have felt their impressions, mainly for protection purposes. As this writer has somehow survived several brushes with death, I would think my Guardian Angels keep throwing up their arms, muttering "there he goes again....lets go assist".  On the day in question, I had felt their presence earlier in the stream below and it was very strong. There were not other travelers about, so I looked upwards and openly asked "Is my life in danger". I didn't see or actually hear anybody, but felt the answer to be something like "Well, you won't pass through the veil today, but you won't have fun either". What the heck, if my life was not in danger, I would just drive further up the canyon and I did. I knew the fishing would be better there anyway, as the Forest Service was draining the lake to make room for a larger one, and the fish and game officials had doubled the fish limit as they would die anyway. I was wearing knee high water boots; nice bib overalls and a great outdoor jacket, but for some reason, I was more worried about saving them than my own life. I sat down on the lakes crusted oil saturated bottom, which slowed the sinking process. I then started to scoop the liquidized tar away from my legs, building piles on both sides of me. I observed the position of the early winter sun and knew I didn't have long before the frigid night would be my doom. That went on for an hour and good feel my strength being used up. At some distance, I saw  a man who I could have yelled for help, but was too embarrassed to announce of my beached whale condition, and about to become a Titanic. To squelch the other guy's possible concern, I had no other choice.....except to grab my fishing rod and cast it in the open water that had not yet froze over. Sure enough, as soon as the bait hit the water, a nice size Rainbow grabbed it good and so I reeled it in. I now know what the fish and ducks felt like when the Valdez oil ship spilled it's load near Alaska.  I pulled the oil saturated fish up and gave it a hard yank, which landed on the left side of my pile of sludge. As I was grasping to find it, my hand hit something hard, which may have been there for a hundred years or so. I dug it up and found it to be my life saver. It was a shovel which gave me the ability to shovel my way out of The Utah Tar Pits. I knew that nobody would  believe this fish story, so while still in a cold chill, I drove forty miles to my brothers place to share my story and have him take photo proof. It is whopper of a fish story, but a real one. Once again, I thank my Guardian Angels and hope they are being paid double time for their assistance with me and my adventurous ways.