“Sounds good,” I reply, pointing the camera down.
“There it is … the honey-hole!” he teases, as usual. Below us is a dark deep hole in the river bottom at the tail-end of a gravel island. We stop and hover over it, looking down. “That’s where we fish!”
“Now let’s follow the river to the west!”
I turn west and fly down the river at about 100 feet above the water. We can see the clear water, the fast-flowing shallows, and the dark, deep holes. There are several places that look great for fishing. The meandering river snakes its way lazily all the way from the horizon toward us, cutting a deep wide valley through the countryside. The shores are