Well now I remember bits and pieces.
Dad in the back of the canoe. Ray Chapman in the front. Me in the middle. It was the summer of '48 we were working the lily pads with a frog fly and Ray had a mouse. He was doing better that Dad and I. Could have been the front of the canoe or my squrming to see. They would plop the flies in a clear spot wait for every. Then a little longer. Just how long it took when you are 3 1/2 years old is 50 times longer than today. Bass would crash thoes big deer hair bugs. I remember Dad calling them Joe's frogs and mice. This was on Wolverine Lake out north west of Detroit about 30 miles. Just after Dad was released from the Army Air Corp.
Been beating the waters of this great country every since.
ol Al

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Ol' Flysoup
Flycasting is as easy as flysoup