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FOR TROUT TRY PATAGONIA, BUT FOR SCHLOCK, CROTON RESERVOIR IS TOPS
Robert F. Jones
September 10, 1979
Two mallards, drake and duck, plop off the bank and paddle unhurriedly out toward the fogbank. I pause on the rutted trail, shoulder-deep in poison ivy and brambles, to watch them go. In the magnifying pallor of first light, they look the size of Canada geese; when they reach the fogbank, they seem bigger than swans. When they emerge from it, no doubt they will appear to be as big as pterodactyls.
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September 10, 1979

For Trout Try Patagonia, But For Schlock, Croton Reservoir Is Tops

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Now, with the wind kicking up white horses and not a single niece or nephew on hand to say "Yecchh! Gross!" I unhook this peppy little schlock and kiss him goodby. I lower him flat on my hand until the water cover his gills. With a sudden flip of his tail, he splashes water into my face and disappears into the greasy depths. I'll look him up again, maybe tomorrow.

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