The Super Bowl was a grand spectacle; a nail-biter that was exciting in a way only the most media saturated sporting event on the planet possibly could be. There were dropped passes and heroic catches, locomotive runs and smothering sacks, genius play calling and misguided officiating. All the ingredients were there.
Half-time was an extravaganza, featuring a 53 year-old, former pop diva who showed that talent and sex appeal aren't reserved for strung out twenty-somethings. Yes ... this year's Super Bowl was something special.
Half-time was an extravaganza, featuring a 53 year-old, former pop diva who showed that talent and sex appeal aren't reserved for strung out twenty-somethings. Yes ... this year's Super Bowl was something special.
But I wouldn't know. I didn't see it. There were steelhead to catch.
The day of the Super Bowl may be the very best day of the year to hit the Salmon River. The game is a filter that processes and removes all but the most dedicated bug chuckers from the steelheading equation. Add to that the recent snow melt and the resulting high water, and you've a perfect storm of absenteeism. In what is arguably the most popular section of the most popular steelhead river on the east coast, I could count on one hand the number of people who fished within sight of our group. For most of the day, we had the river almost entirely to ourselves.
It was glorious.
2 comments:
the best super bowl I have ever had
agreed.
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