There was a chance – just a CHANCE – that the thing currently disturbing my bobber was some sort of prehistoric mud-dweller, one who had lain at the bottom on Old Man So-and-So’s pond since the dark ages, and was just now summoned from the murky depths to investigate the curiosity that was my small nightcrawler, still struggling upon my tiny hook.
As someone with a history with Filipino people, it’s interesting that they are so prevalent here, some 5000 miles from their homeland.
If my two travel mates and I were to lay down head to foot on the belt and rode it around, there would not be a moment when you wouldn’t see a man lying on a rotating belt.
The purpose of this trip is to listen to God and observe nature and build cabins and fish in ice cold streams of water. Four things that I'm not particularly good at.