30 years ago in a land "Far, Far Away Donkey", there were two friends who began their float-tube history on the Chambers Creek Pothole chain, in Washington State chasing wild cutthroat on flies.
The ugly mug in the pic chewing 'baccy would be me. The blue Cherokee in the background would be mine.
This fine looking specimen of a fly fisherman is Troy. The black Bronco in the first pic would be his. If memory serves me, he's laughing because of a beaver slapping next to him? But I could be wrong.
Troy fishing the mouth of the feeder stream. We fished those potholes all year round and never once saw another car aside from ours. It was our honey hole, and we were spoiled. Little did we know at the time, we would remain lifelong friends.
And 30yrs later I would again be getting ready for the spring thaw, tying us up boxes of warmwater bugs. Only now he's in the Great Lakes potholes and cedar bogs of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and I'm in Pennsylvania.
Hopefully, these bugs can help put another smile on his face like they did 30 yrs ago. I know revisiting these pics did for me.
Good luck Troy!
See you on the water!
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