Kristine and I were in the Grayling area over the weekend. Made it out Sunday morning onto a part of the north branch AS I hadn't fished in about ten years. It looked like in the meantime the stretch had received some of those trees airlifted into the river by the Anglers of the Au Sable. Lots more cover, and lots more contour to the bottom than I remembered. Some things hadn't changed, though: my take consisted of a bunch of small brook trout. Tricos came off about 8:45 and I squeezed in just an hour before I had to get back to camp. Still about the best hour of fishing I've had in over a month.
Lots is being said today about the moon landing of forty years ago. Got to see it with my own three-year-old eyes. I remember only snatches of the event, most of which concern what my mother and sisters were doing as we sat around the TV. Primarily, what I remember is eating moon sticks, a candy that passed itself off as "space food."
I've told that to a number of people, though none had ever heard of them, even those much older than I was at the time. I was starting to wonder if I'd invented the memory, until I ran across this. I feel validated.
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