The date was July 10, 1976.*I?ve just checked in to my favorite fishing camp, Aurora Lakes Resort, near Little Fort, British Columbia. In spite of an eight-hour drive, I?m excited, as I had not wet a line since the previous summer. I rush to set up two rods, get a long-handled net and stuff a back-pack with wet and dry Hardy Marquis 8/9?s, my wet and dry fly-boxes, a gunny sack, an anchor rope, my old Pentax Spotmatic, two sausage rolls and three beers.