Here’s a story from the “This River is Wild” blog, of which I’m a fan. Don’t know how I missed this on the first go-around, but here it is on re-play.
Over a few beers late one night, my brother and I hatched a plan to hit up a local flat early the next morning. The goal was to catch a bonefish and exact revenge on the hundred or so fish that wanted nothing to do with every pattern I had, the last and only other time, I fished there. It would be my last chance to fish a flat for a bonefish on our annual summer sojourn.
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