Just wanted to drop you a line and thank you again for the great fishing experience and time of comaraderie and fellowshiip on the river. That Saturday may have been the best fly fishing day of my life as far as results and learning...what a day. Here's wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
Greg, thank you for the great day on the Little Red! It was full of good conversation and plenty of good fishing, too bad I missed my chance at the big one (or maybe two) but there will be more in the future. The pictures are great thank you for taking them, I have not had time to view the DVD but make time this weekend. Would like to come back later this year to chase the browns, maybe a couple days not on a holiday would be good. Once again thank you for some great memories, looking forward to fishing with again!
Greg, Thanks for the great fishing trip from Pangburn last week. An amazing fishing experience -- lots of big fish just where you said there would be. Thanks for your expertise and all your hard work to keep Lisa and myself busy landing the fish. We look forward to the next trip from Lobo Landing. Chuck (Texas)
Evenin' Greg and Happy New Year wishes from Memphis. Thank you so much for the wonderful photos and the certificate for Max. Your thoughtfulness and personal attention too all the details of our trip etc...are so appreciated. Max and I read your card together and "Rivers of Memory" quote and noticed how beautiful your wife's oil painting on the front of the card was to us. Max hasn't stopped talking about you and the trip and the 7 rainbow he caught and how one was "24.23 inches"!
The cookies made his tummy smile and the tea kept us warm. What a perfect day - whether we'd been catching or just fishing.
We'll be back soon. Count on it. May the new year bring success, joy and peace and the eternal comfort of family and friends. Glad we're friends.
One can never have too many wonderful people in his life.
In parting, I share with you one of my favorite parts in literature from "A River Runs Through It"
"Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."
With great fondness,