The ritual was always the same. He would kick me out of bed at 4 am. Mom would have poached eggs over toast for us ready on the table. We would discuss where we were going and any things of interest in the area. We would examine our rods and reels for wear. The first spinner of the day was tied on at the table to assure the knot was true in the light. Tying on a lure in the dark on stream many times was a recipe for disaster.
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