For some stupid reason we planned our trip so that the race came at the end of our week. Bad move. Not good to board an airplane back to Dallas the day after enduring 26 miles.
Among the week's activities was a fishing trip. We were after big salmon and we found them. We flew into the back country, landed on the river and stepped from plane to boat for a half-day of fishing.
Within half an hour I had landed a 26-pound fish. I must say, I was feeling pretty good. After about another 30 minutes of watching Dan try to catch something, I was beginning to feel sorry for him. That is, until I watched him haul in the largest fish of the season to that point: a 56-pound monster (pictured above--er, the fish is on the left!).
I really was proud for him. It was a thrill to watch!
But, I must add, he keeps bringing up that blasted fish. As a matter of fact, he sent me the picture again just last week. I think he's afraid that I'll forget. Not a chance.
Nice fish, Dan. Real nice fish.
1 comment:
Okay James, with the miracle of digital photography, some memories will never die.
BTW, Larry didn't point out that he smoked me in the marathon by about 45 minutes.
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