We packed up and headed north to escape …
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The greatest gift of life on the mountain is time.
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We rise early in the faint alarm clock glow, layering up for the late November cold.
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The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.” — JOHN BUCHAN
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That day was sub-zero temps and never-ending slow falling snow, a reluctant rise in the small dark hours before dawn.
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