Ozzy’s back, and we finally shove off. Gratefully I’m in the bow, sitting on a freshly rebuilt seat and working to find my balance while casting from a sitting position in the overloaded banana boat. Less than a minute into the float we spot a riser and decide to post up, despite the formidable float still in front of us.
The feeder isn’t super consistent, but consistent enough, so we watch and wait as the river slides past as tranquil as a summer moonrise. The mellowness of the moment is quickly interrupted by an ear-piercing CRACK! and I find myself sitting in the bottom of the canoe, surrounded by the splinters of the seat that was new that morning.
This is definitely not the start I envisioned.
I apologize, attempt to pull myself up, and nearly capsize the canoe in the process. “Whoa,” Jon cautions. “Easy.”
I already need a cigarette…
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