The Drake

Defining Moments

T WAS A REMARKABLY COLD WINTER in the ragged foothills of the southern Appalachians. The dark days were consumed tying great volumes of flies, which meant that I had an abundant supply of woolly buggers and hare’s ears overflowing from the boxes now stuffed in my pack. My aggressive tying schedule was interrupted only briefly for the occasional junket to the local micro-brewery

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