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Show 203 "Remember when we used to fish by Little Barndoor Island?" Hunt asked his father. "I remember when you caught that monster bass," his father said. "Was it really big, Dad?" Sean was in the back seat. The three were driving to Sand Point to spincast for trout. "I'd never seen a fish so big," Hunt's father said. "It scared the life out of me." "Not entirely," Hunt said. He smiled. "For the afternoon," Hunt's father said. "For the afternoon at least." "You recovered," Hunt said. "Couldn't do it again," Hunt's father said. "Couldn't do it again -- at this point." Hunt parked the car at the turnaround in the Sand Point campsite and unlatched the trunk. The three made their poles up. "It's been centuries since I've used a spinning pole," Hunt's father said. "Can I go ahead?" Sean asked. Hunt nodded to his son, watched him bound off, almost at a trot. "It'll come back," Hunt said to his father. "You taught me. You never lose it. It's like breathing." "Some days, lately, I forget even how to breathe," his father joked. "The price of being seventy-six!" "Use one of these." Hunt handed his father a gold, spotted spinning lure. "Guaranteed. Here - let me put that swivel on for you." "How's everything with Leah?" his father asked. |