We drifted wooly duggers, busted each others balls constantly, ate beef jerky and had the time of our lives.
Nothing quite compares though until your boy says "I'm going to fish that run up there" then on his own spots a fish, makes the cast... and the mend, then hooks and lands it all on his own. Not bad.. for 9.
Good times definitely lay ahead.
3am wake up... pull into the empty lot. As we're getting our waders on, four trucks pull in loaded with dudes already suited up. They jump out and power walk to the creek in an unspoken race to get to the creek first.
The sun rises and there are no fish... apparently everyone is also GD pinner now. I do enjoy casting at their bobbers as they come floating by. The amusement wanes and we go on the search. Four stops and two streams later we find fish and have the run all to ourselves.
Christian catches fish, one after the other until we're cold, hungry and tired.