FLY FISHING NEWS & ADVENTURES
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CHANO’S PORT O FLY FISHING ADVENTURE CONTINUES …
The road ribbon narrowed straight and then twisted through little towns, like Schulenburg, almost as if to force drivers to look out their windows and see something worth stopping for, besides the “cheap” gas. It just felt like Texas in these parts. Maybe it was the sense of history, Goliad, Gonzales and San Antonio just a little far off to the west along I10 when he passed under. It was all history; from the drug dealer back to the Texas war for Independence. Chano never denied he being a solid chicken fried Texan. He could be bought by another state again, but he knew he could never be had.
By the time the road reached Hallettsville he was sure he could smell the salt. The air was a lot wetter, and he chose to believe it was the salt that made it so.
There was no doubt what he smelled in Victoria – money. A little old town Chano remembered from childhood, blown away by the big success of oil and gas. He read the city limit sign, “Oh my God, 60-thousand people,” here? This used to be nowhere.
Boats were already showing up in front yards, in gas stations, in parking lots, all attached to some new
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MONDAY MORNING HOUSTON BOUND
Thanks for tuning in for this morning’s Monday Morning Sidewalk! By the time you watch this, or read this, I may already be on the road again. Work calls, and this time it’s Houston, which, by the way, is one heck of a great place to work.I trust you made it to your destinations this morning as well, and be sure to be safe in your travels this week – I will! Maybe things will hold together