July 24, 2020. That's the date. Five of us will head nine hundred miles to Cranberry Portage in northwest Manitoba where we'll wait for Steve Japp to show up in the morning. Allan and I have been there before, my son-in-law Ryan, grandson Jakob and my nephew Brian haven't. Twenty-two years will have passed since Allan and I pushed our old Alumacraft onto First Cranberry Lake and paddled off into what has grown to be a tradition. What it'll be like next year is pure speculation. Hopefully the world will still be turning and the fish will be biting.
The other day Brian emailed me with the idea of fall fishing at the cabin. Even though it appeals, I have my doubts. Too many unavoidable things are sucking up the calendar. At best fishing's maybe thing.
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