Back to the Mogollon Rim the man goes. Today he wants to fish, and so the search for Potato Lake begins.

Deep into the forest he goes, off the main dirt road that winds along the Mogollon Rim, soon losing all cell phone coverage. It takes a few wrong turns without the aid of GPS, but eventually he sees the gate and the trail beyond that should lead him to his fishing destination. He grabs his tackle box and pole, and starts walking, just like Huckleberry Finn.

The path isn’t long, and soon the open meadow is before him. There are a few people already here, but no one is fishing. Instead he sees buckets along the shoreline for holding crawdads.

He walks along the waters edge for a spell, then eventually sets up a spot and casts his pole into the water. The crawdads are everywhere, and the man enjoys watching them dig holes in the mud.

It’s a perfect Saturday to enjoy cold beers under the warm sun. No fish are to be caught, as it seems this natural lake holds only the crawdad. No matter though to the old man.

A group of horse riders come lumbering through the meadow and right into the lake so the animals can get a drink.

Men with dogs throw sticks into the water, the dogs causing a splash as they happily go after the pieces of wood.

No one is on their phones. He remembers how life used to be.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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