Look at the ashes on those bueno cubanos! Linden and I must have held that pose for a good thirty minutes, not impractical considering our libational disposition.
Cabin Row in the vicinity of Loutville. Sky so blue you’d think I Photoshopped it.
David and Linden enjoy the Breakfast of Champions on-deck at Cabin 23.
I can’t state with conviction which Float year these were taken, but you may be confident that I’ll never wear that hat again.
Brian Cowden said:
February 1st, 2007 at 10:35 am
Thanks for ditching that hat! As true friends, we didn’t plan on saying anything to you, but now that you’ve mentioned it…
Think that beastie you’re holding is one of two big browns you nailed on our East Branch float several years back. It was Lindy’s first year in FL where we did not organize the traditional Lout trip and the 4 of us (you, me, Lindy and Dean)ran up last minute. We floated Downsville Covered Bridge to the Harvard Campground and chucked streamers at big browns by day and fished olives/sulphers/green and brown drakes by evening with various spinner falls to boot! One of my favorite days ever spent as a Lout!
Bob Sutton said:
February 1st, 2007 at 11:20 am
Yeah, I remember that this spot was just above the bridge in town in Deposit. Earlier the same day, I snapped off a real hawg in that little hole you like to fish upstream at the farm, so these two brownies were my recompense for him getting away and watching you slay them all morning!
I think the kids buried the hat in the back yard somewhere to spare themselves further embarrassment.
It has dawned on me recently that there are two things every man ought to scrutinize fully-sober before undertaking with much enthusiasm.
One, always get a second opinion about hats.
And, two, do not for a moment presume that you look halfway intelligent or attractive while dancing.
If hats and dancing could be made to go away at puberty, the world’s supply of gravitas would increase immeasurably.
Brian Cowden said:
February 2nd, 2007 at 11:13 am
AMEN! Reminds me of the story where Maggie convinced me to plop down $800 for dance lessons so we “could look good” at our wedding. I reluctantly comlplied and made every lesson even though it nearly killed me. On the big day, as we were introduced as a couple for our first dance, she turns to me and says “I can’t do our dance, I’m too nervous”. That $800 should have been that 6 weight Sage rod and reel combo I still don’t own.