Bill Dzilenski stepped off the turbine float plane and hoisted a large gear bag onto our newly renovated dock. In that bag was a strong fly rod and a good camera. And he spent the following seven days wielding both tools with enthusiasm and grace. After our season ended, Bill sent me a letter with a thumb drive enclosed. He wrote “My visit to Three Rivers was stellar. A lot of age-old dreams came true, and the trip continues to grow on me. Enjoy the pictures.”
Holed up in a farmhouse on Vermont’s first snowy day of the winter, Bill’s images have improved my humor considerably. So I’m moved to share them with you.
Bill and his guide flew up to a little “rattle”, a Newfy term for a lively creek. Pilot Gilles circled, checked out the landing zone, then dropped into a broad reach of the river.
Mid-week, Bill spent two days at the 5th Rapids Outpost Camp.
“I’ll end this letter here,” Bill wrote, “as I could go on endlessly. Suffice it to say that I can’t wait to return. It may be a year or two, but I’ll look forward to seeing it all anew.”