We had grand plans to rule the universe, one river at a time. We were going to impose our will upon all piscine organisms, scour each and every run so thoroughly that to the unlucky fishermen that drift in our wake like so much chattel, it would seem as if an anadromous neutron bomb had been detonated...
But the call came down last night. We gotta work.
The hope against hope is for a short day. The Fanz has some of the crab gear soakin' and rumor has it that the cohos are on the afternoon bite, so keep your fingers crossed.
Even though at work, we will still be on a river someplace...
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