Wherein an unemployed reporter tries to catch as many fish as possible in a futile quest to avoid thinking about the dismal state of journalism or his dwindling bank balance
Sunday, July 29, 2007
No place like home
After fishing unfamiliar waters lately, it was nice to hit the Sip this morning. The smallmouth were hanging where I expected them, mainly around the sunken rock islands between the B-N railroad tressle and the Lowry Bridge.
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