Four weeks from the day this post is written, I’ll head north to Montana to meet Jerry, then east to Duluth, and then west to meet Mick and Brad, and we’ll all journey to Banff and Jasper. Then home. About 16 days, 4,500 miles, and the first day will feature a solo attempt at an Iron Butt ride—1,000 miles in 1 day on 2 wheels. And because life has taught me that Murphy, famed for his law “If anything can go wrong it will,” was an optimist…
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People Get Ready
On a seldom fished section of Rock Creek in the Sierras, a bit overgrown with trees. Yeah, nowhere near a campground. The pic above had the caption, “If casting is difficult, you can assume not many have fished there.” My kind of stream. I spotted a nice pool and wove through the tree branches with just about 3 ft of line hanging down from the fly rod tip. Letting out a little line and dropping in the hole, I realized a route was blocked to extract any trout that chose to bite, so I gently moved a branch aside with my left hand, the one that controls the line, that sets the hook.
Just then…
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