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Trout Whisperer - Ladies bacon

Lunch for the two of us has been packed, twice. The first lunch is cold roast beef sandwiches, apples, sliced cheese, and a full hand of little individually wrapped caramels, and a thermos each, mine has coffee, his, hot tea.

Other one is what he calls, ladies bacon, it’s some of his own applewood smoked thin shaved almost translucent ham that if we get to needing a rest, will fry up on sticks, the dang stuff is addicting, and I know he brought plenty.  Even if I don’t need a sit down for a spell, I’m gonna call a halt for awhile for that, eating in the woods with a tidy little fire, it makes me feel so good, and anyone knows me, knows, I do it as often as possible.

We park by the stream, its slow flowing, little riffs of crumbly snow patches underfoot, water so dark it looks black, not a leaf hanging on a branch anywhere, which is great if your hunting paper wasp nests.

All last week, sorta scouting for deer sign, we found not a nest hanging, today, an hour before we started frying our second lunch, I spotted it hanging mid creek, about the size of a football on steroids, two burnished dried maple leaves, just touch it off against all the gray, not one tear in it. Made the ladies bacon taste all the better to me.


- The Trout Whisperer

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