One bit of sad news I had this week was that a guide I fished with in Arkansas, Gabe Cross, died a year or so ago. He always had a thing for pain pills and I guess that's what ended up being the cause of death. He definitely had some quirkiness to him, but he was an innately fishy dude like few I've met before.
I fished with him a few times and always had a great time with him as he would go on and on about the eccentric nature of his short life. Most conversations wound themselves through fish tales and bullshit the likes I doubt I'll ever see again.
I was sad to hear the news as he was one of those guys that I would have liked the chance to fish with him again. He was famous for his nervous grunts, artificial Ozark accent, and mumbling on and on about how he'd invented the disco midge and could catch fish anywhere in the world on a green scud.
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