When I was a kid, there were spots on the Klawock River I thought were secret. Where no one else went because they didn’t know about it. Sure, the trail that had been made by boots other than ours, but those are the wrong details to be concerned with.
There was no asphalt turn out to indicate the spots presence, so it was at least mostly secret.
We’d ride our bikes with great alertness, and only hop off and slide down the embankment when there were no cars approaching. To tip someone off was to ruin it for everyone. Again, “everyone” implies that the spot wasn’t secret, but again, that the wrong detail when you’re 10 and you’re riding your Huffy to the river unsupervised.
Today there’s a pull out and multiple trails to the spot. In fact, there’s a trail that goes the entire length of the river. People take chainsaws down and clear brush so one isn’t limited to what nature provides in the way of casting lanes.
All that came to mind as I stepped off the highway and into the woods, quickly, as if the 10-year old in me was scared to give away the hunting spot I was about to find.
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