Mark Purvis visits central New York.....

.......and spends an hour trying to buy a fishing license. Yes, he came all the way from England for a conference and wound up with two struggling old town hall clerks and their new computerized license terminal. That'll teach him to have one of those classic 5-line English addresses, eh?

Anyhow: Marc Dupuis drove down from Ottawa and J.P. Chaintreuil joined us from Rochester, thereby making this an official Clave. After we whisked Mr. Purvis away from his conference and suffered the license incident we sampled two of the greater-Rochester area's trout streams to no avail. After a whisky salute we broke for lunch, two words: "garbage platter",and the less said about that the better.

Despite the fishlessness and the cholesterol it was a nice day to be out in the company of friends.


That's Mr. Purvis out in the sunlight. The mysterious stranger lurking in the shadows is Marc Dupuis

J.P. Chaintreuil ties his boots, mentally preparing himself for the fishlessness to come

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