Ben: Yeah that was pretty bad.
Rachel: Clamming is dirty business. You get up really early in the morning, on your day off...
Ben: That sounds dirty already...
Rachel: Pile into a small truck with your husband and two other boys, with two dogs in the back...
Ben: Gettin' dirtier (and more smelly) already...
Rachel: Travel two hours and wind up on a muddy, sandy beach with dead fish all over the place.
Ben: Hmmmmmm, sounds like fun so far.
Rachel: You put on your rubber boots...
Ben: Oh goodness, it's going downhill...
Rachel: Grab your shovel, or if you are rich enough, clamming gun...
Ben: We aren't rich enough.
Rachel: ...and head out into the mud. You walk around for about half an hour staring at nothing but mud...Ben: ...and looking for mystical clam divots in the sand...that you have no clue what they look like.
Rachel: You take the opportunity to speak with other clammers that know what they are doing, and getting clams...
Ben: ...but it doesn't help you at all for the most part. You are still like a lost puppy looking for a puppy chow factory.
Rachel: Then, miracle upon miracle, you discover one of these mystical divots.
Ben: How did we miss those again?
Rachel. And the annihilation begins.
Ben: You work your butt off trying to dig each clam out before it can escape.
Rachel: Those things are fast. We're talking, like a mole-with-its-butt-on-fire-burrowing-toward-water-after-chugging-a-case-of-Five-Hour-Energies fast.
Ben: So you dig in as fast as you possibly can, and end up on your knees in the mud, digging with your hands, trying to get the thing out, and hoping that you haven't lost it already.
Rachel: As you dig like a dog in the mud, you realize that once again you have broken the clam shell, and therefore the clam, into millions of pieces with your shovel, because, once again, you aren't rich enough to afford the clamming gun.
Ben: Remember all those times we thought we lost it and then realized that we had hucked the pieces of clam out with the first couple of shovel fulls? That was embarrassing...
Rachel: Let's reiterate that we are clamming for "razor clams".
Ben: "Razor"...like those sharp things that I never use?
Rachel: Exactly.
Ben: Right, so when you totally smash the clam to pieces...the pieces are really sharp! Hence, the super thick rubber gloves!Rachel: The excitement of pulling out your first clam, demolished or not, is comparable to finding a thick, meaty piece of pirate treasure...in the shape of a clam.
Ben: The hoots, hollars, whooping, and exuberance were abundant after that. We struck, literally, all kinds of meaty clam treasure.
Rachel: One must keep in mind that you go clamming when the tide is low. And as the moon shifts, so does the tide.
Ben: Oh, so that's why the ocean nearly swallowed our cooler and bucket of flounders from the salmon fishermen!
Rachel: Yes. We raced the tide back to shore...
Ben: But of course, we searched out mystical divots as we went.
Rachel: Although we did not capture the 240 clams that had been our goal...
Ben: That 240 would include each of our 4 individual limits of 60...
Rachel: The 2 pounds that we DID get, and the dead flounder that we received, made for some pretty good clam chowder and fried flounder.
Ben: Wait, what about the "dirty" part?
Rachel: Even though you may try to protect yourself, the mud and sand find a way into everything.
Ben: Boots, gloves, hats, pants, socks, bags, mouths...it's maddening...
Rachel: But worth it...
Ben: I can't wait to go clamming again...do you think we'll be rich enough for the clamming gun?
Rachel: Ummmmm, let's see...
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