I am beginning this log to keep track of my different wanderings here in Arizona. Most weekends find me sitting patiently in a blind waiting for a deer or turkey that will never walk past  or, as in these past few weekends, fly fishing. Last Monday, Columbus Day, I spent the day on a small creek on the Mogollon Rim chasing wild trout.  It is tough to beat an 80 degree day, knee deep in crystal clear water, with not a soul in sight.  By the end of the day I had landed 5 fish, one about 14 inches. It’s tough to go back to work after a day of fishing like that…

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