Trail pancakes for breakfast, then on to some beautiful trail. Large, trout-filled brooks; woods and meadows covered in wildflowers; swimming in streams; dog-napping in the afternoon by dancing butterflies; a steep climb to buzzard rock for a scenic dinner; then a campsite out of the wind for the night: a typical Sunday on the Appalachian Trail. Confirmation that you should follow your dreams.
Has RobinHood tried his brown bead-head wooly bugger yet? Looks like the perfect stream for it.
RobinHood informed me that he thinks wooly buggers are better pond/lake flies, but I’ve passed on your suggestion.
What’s Cartwheels think the luckiest age is? Also, All In, when you were seven you wanted to save up to buy a mountain to build a log cabin on and live in all by yourself. That’s what I remember, anyway…. love, Barb:)
OK, we read about the trout filled streams. Then what?