One of my earliest memories was my Dad taking me fishing on rivers like the Humber, Niagara, Restigouche among others for salmon. It was tiny fish cabins with pot bellied wood stoves crowded with old guys, Bamboo fly rods everywhere and silk lines drying in the rafters. Whiskery, damp wool, cigar smoke and laughter was a heady experience for a young kid taking it all in.