Tracy Chimenti
10-08-2008, 10:39 AM
Well, I'll be burying one of my closest friends tomorrow. Moe was with me through the best and worst of times. Oh the nights we had Moe, wading those sandbars of the Feather. You always were on the look-out for that blow-up on that top-water plug. You never were much for flyfishing, as you didn't get to see the grab. How your ears perked to the sound of a drag. How you kept us up in the wee hours of moon-lit nights while on Beaver Patrol. How many of those tri-tips did you steal from the BBQ out there, Moe? How many? I'll never forget the time my hunting partner and I were on the bypass during flood and he wouldn't give you even a bite of his sandwich... after all those long retrieves... and how you so cleverly scooped that little number off the deck before making one of your classic launches off the bow to retrieve his pintail. You were one of a kind, Moe. You'll be with me forever.