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.
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.