tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2360451806025015313.post2941669586529820750..comments2009-03-15T12:53:16.854-07:00G_Smolthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06239634996842414620noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2360451806025015313.post-34088641154753502132009-03-15T12:53:00.000-07:002009-03-15T12:53:00.000-07:00The promise of "all the Maker's Mark I could drink" from the back east gang held as much allure for me as partaking in the vaunted tradition of "Salmon Fishing". The looks of disgust and muttered Can-French from the sleepy guides after seeing our AK flies out-fish their storied, moldy patterns almost made up for the 32 hour round trip van ride (for 2.5 days of fishing). I humbly submit that one of the finer aspects of tradition is the act of breaking with it while juiced up on one of Kentucky's finest. I am told that Ted Williams' head palpably quaked in its cryogenic petri-dish for the entire duration of our visit to the Gaspe. Mission accomplished!Cap'n Knoreply@blogger.com