The Polar Bear Express was nearing a crawl. Had just passed Sucker Creek around mile 90 when the train slowed, and for the next hour I made many deep sighs as only eight more miles were traveled. Kids bounced off the walls around me while I gazed out the window counting black spruce trees and thinking of days gone by.

Back in 2000 living up in the remote town of Attawapiskat fishing took on a new meaning. With so much time and space to myself, I often plied the waters from a float tube during the warm seasons and then poured over maps and fishing books during the winters. I wasn’t really any good at fishing back then, had done some in my late teens but just didn’t know about the finer details and those technicalities needed to best angle for certain fish. In Attawapiskat I surely made a number of errors often, mistakes I wasn’t yet aware of at that time. The brackish waters of the James Bay sea near town wasn’t exactly an easy place to learn either. Beyond the reach of the tides the fishing would be better, but I didn’t know that then…

On the river bank in town I often caught fisherman returning from their travels further upriver, some days with big pike in their arms. Twice I was invited up the river to fish, one time hooking and feeling for myself the biggest pike of my life. A fish forever locked in memory now, some random nights that fish revisits in my dreams. It was a day really special to me, one which sparked an even greater need to catch and learn more still.

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I have looked forward to returning to the Attawapiskat ever since leaving. And now, while riding the slow rails south on the Polar Bear Express I was destined for Hearst to meet an online crew of anglers which had been assembled from ReelBuddies.net. Four fellas committed to my belief of great fishing days ahead…

Just two days later all groceries, gear and people were accounted for when we met at Hearst Air Services, Carey Lake airbase, for our sunrise flight to the remote north.
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DAY 1. TO PYM! THE FINGERS.
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Scotty, Trev, Mike, Grant and myself dropped our bags and food onto the scale and came in just a wee tad-bit over the intended pack weight for the flight. Grant nicknamed me a Nazi for pretty much every part of the planning, be it groceries, gear, menu, schedule or whatever. Participation-Nazi, Food-Nazi, Tackle-Nazi, I heard it all, but by weeks end I know all the fellas had realized that attention to detail and good planning only made for less gongs, and more time fishing. We would eat like Kings all week and fly out only a jar of jam and a few condiments… And the fishing, well you’ll see.

Wasn’t long after meeting Mike and Melanie Veilleux that we were in the air flying over the land which gives hatch to the entire worlds supply of mosquitoes, the James Bay lowland muskeg.
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In a Turbo Otter with more than enough leg room and capacity to fly us and our gear the 200 miles north, all eyes were glued to the windows taking in the scenery; except maybe Trev’s which were closed and Grant’s whose were fixated on all the controls of the cockpit. We flew over the small town of Ogoki on the Albany River where I counted 55 houses, and in just two hours we touched down on the Attawapiskat where we were met on the dock by our local Ojibway guide Norman from Ogoki, and his “geemisum” (girlfriend) Christine from Fort Albany. Immediately the bugs greeted as well.

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The cabin there at Pym is huge. Inside we had ample room to romp with all the amenities of home including satellite TV and a shower-house. I thought that was pretty cool considering where we were. Mosquitoes were quick to follow us indoors but they weren’t the only bugs around either, for I caught this fella hitch-hiking on my shoulder… A rather large adult stonefly.

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Unable to wait for long, in not time we had things unpacked and rooms assigned. Norman was eager to get his new guests onto the water and show us around. Scotty and Trev left camp east while Grant and I followed Norman, Christine and Mike to the west.

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After splitting up from Norman, Grant and I found ourselves alone searching the place out. Fishing was tough at first, we really had to work for ’em. Grant referred to the time as “dialing in” to the fish. After a number of hours I could feel the sun burning my neck when we came upon some small rock islands breaking the river’s current. On the first cast there into the eddy Grant hooked a pike before we even got anchored. The next hour or so he and I would find a few more gems in the turbulent current seams.

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Grant caught the bigger fish of the day with this beauty 7lb’er.

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Back at camp Trevor and I BBQ’d up some surf and turf with potatoes au gratin and skewered veggies. Was a tough but short fishing start for all, but the meal replenished the spirits. Mike picked up a mid 30 inch pike with Norman while Grant after dinner had a high 40 inch pike straighten a snap on his leader. I broke the tip on my medium-heavy Loomis spinning rod after a mid 30 inch pike and a tangled up stick in the line forced a boat-side mishap, this leaving me with just my baitcaster as the other heavy rod for the week. We knew great things were to come the next day, but first we had to survive Mike. Needless to say, it took me about three minutes to reassign myself out of Mike’s room. He is the loudest snorer I have ever heard.
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DAY 2. UPRIVER.
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The Pic coil had only just extinguished about 5:00am freeing any surviving mosquitoes from their strongholds. Not the buzz but the tickle on my face woke me from a deep sleep. Trevor was up and stirring, unimpressed by the skitters as well, so we rose to make breakfast together and plan for a full day out including a shorelunch on the river. After bacon and eggs, Norman, Christine and I set off from the gang to work some new water.

The morning was slow for me. We drove straight to a large eddied-out bay Norman called Torpedo Bay, and it was here that I watched Christine pick up two 40 inch pike using a twistertail on a light rod with just 10lb mono and no leader. She also nabbed a few other high 30 inch fish and did so with the greatest of ease. I asked, “how long you been fishing pike girl?” to which she replied, “about two weeks.”

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She was onto something. In fact, she only uses two baits; actually just one bait but in two different colors, one for walleye and the other for pike. Norman takes great enjoyment out of simply watching his guests catch fish, and me, I really enjoyed watching Christine tame these pike… I just needed to learn how to do it myself.

Torpedo began to sink and so we moved upstream a ways into the most scenic little backbay on the entire river.

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In here the fish were on. Both Christine and I put a beat on numerous pike in the 30 to 37 inch range. The sun began to show a little more and with it came the heat on the back of my neck, and the blackflies. Didn’t much care though, the place was awesome.

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I bombed out a Johnson spoon and gave it a slow drag back to the boat when from it’s depths I felt a thunk then quick tug. After the end of good fight I boated the first trophy northern of the trip. After the pics and release, like flies to honey the other anglers arrived in the same bay.

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Truth be told the group was right on time at the expected meeting place for a shorelunch. The fish pretty much picked over by Christine and I, we all left together then easily caught enough quick walleyes to get lunch started.

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Norman has perfected this cooking process and works efficiently to get his hungry crew fed. We didn’t mind pitching in a little to help out either.

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After lunch Norman, Christine and I pushed on further upriver leaving the group behind to work more waters back to camp. Our long drive to a huge 200 yard long eddy off a big set of rapids paid off. The high winds of the day and turbulent rapid waters made for some interesting fishing but it took absolutely no time at all before I pegged a large northern.

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And of course Christine continued to work her magic as well. In fact, while she played this fish Norman and I were convinced she had a higher 40 inch pike or one of the rivers many sturgeon on the line. It gave her lighter rod and line a real test. Christine and I both hooked fish about the same time and in order for me to help her; and to allow Norman to keep boat control as we were not anchored in the wind, I landed and released a 40+ inch pike without time for a pic during our chaotic double header. Take a minute and imagine bouncing around in a canoe during the double-header action of two trophy northerns….. yeah!

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Christine’s fish hit the 40 mark, elated and energized I just got right to casting. Overly enthusiastic though, I cast a birds-nest in the wind and lost the lure that had been working well. Within an hour or so the worm gear on the Abu baitcaster was toast too. Broken rod yesterday, now a junk reel, I had an old medium spinning Bob Izumi standby suited up with a 4000 series Shimano and 30lb Power Pro. This outfit went on to save the week and land many more fish, including two more trophy pike for the day. Here’s a chunky monkey for yas, or as Grant would say, a “snarlin’ darlin’.”

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We had to burn on out of the spot to get back. Enjoyed running rapids on the way home with Norm. He’s an excellent river traveler and guide, and one to learn from. The winds were nuts and on route we took a break back at Torpedo Bay for some casts. The gusts were directing water straight into the backside of the point which created the eddy itself. Fish pushed up tight in there, from a parking spot well away I used the wind to make some of the longest casts ever. Just smoked ’em. Just SMOKED THEM in there. A half dozen 35-38 inch pike Christine and I released then the day ended with a freight train of a walleye. This gurl fought like a champ and came in on the scale at eight pounds. What a way to cap the day which saw Christine and I land 11 pike 40 inches and over, many pike 35-39 inches and a number of eyes with some in the five pound range and some bigger.

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Back at camp I was quick to learn that over in the bay which saw Grant get his leader straightened by a large pike the evening before, did Trevor just have his rod snapped by a gargantuan fish as well. Scotty reported back with a 42″ and 40″ pike himself, and the others although bagging no trophies had great eyes and pike keep them interested. Fish tales swarmed around the cabin with the skitters while Mike prepared some burgs and I snuck in a hot shower then scotch before bed.

DAY 3. POW.
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The D-O-double G, aka Scottydog, aka Scotty and I were up next. Two cocky pike hunters sharing the same canoe the air around us reeked confidence. High hopes. We held back and saw the others travel ahead before we began to work a weed edge along a narrow channel off the main river. Not long we approached Grant and Mike who were parked ahead and so we pulled in behind and anchored nearby in a small bay. I took the first cast there and pegged a rather larger headed and long esox. It felt great!

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I realized around this time I’d forgot the map. Nice thing about rivers is they only flow one way, but the down river section from camp is littered with islands in and around the enormity of Pym Island itself. The wind began to really start kicking and throw up the odd four footer in the main channel. Together with Mike and Grant’s boat following, we picked our way along and stopped at any fishy looking water.

Off a back-eddy near an island point I dropped a first cast under some overhanging alder bushes. KA-PAM!!! The offering got hammered and I was immediately in for one of the best pike fights of my life. This fish impressed all onlookers as it wouldn’t tire and made countless runs and a jump. Norman’s boat having the only net we were all forced to hand-land our fish while in the other boats during this trip. This fish sure gave me a couple spooky moments when attempting the grab.

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I certainly had the confidence now. It wasn’t even noon and two 40+ inch fish had been caught.

After getting a little lost we just happened to stumble upon Norman who was out with Trevor and Christine for the morning. They had been waiting for us for a long time on this one spot. Trevor had landed a big eye in the ten pound range for the morning and, when we pulled in there and started casting I picked up three pike in the high 30’s within minutes.

Before long we set off down river together and Scotty and I came to the back of an island where he started to get on the board with a number of 3 to 5 pound walleye and a mid 30 inch pike. I kept nailing fish as well.

By midafternoon Norman had taken us quite a ways further down river. He guided Trevor and blew right by this one spot with Mike and Grant in chase. Seeing a huge back-eddy bay on route, we pulled in there. Scotty and I immediately began destroying fish, it was “sick” as the kids these days would say.

Must have caught a dozen 30 to 39 inch pike with some gorgeous big eyes in the mix. Scotty and I when blown into shore were casting outward when I felt the sudden stop of a big inline bucktail. What ensued after this was possibly the hardest fight of the week for me. A phat trophy northern forced Scotty to take the helm and drive us off shore away from fallen debris, but not before his rod got caught up in a branch off the bow and I had to play the pike and untangle that mess. Minutes later, safe from everything, I held the Big Crunch Sandwich and let the boys take a bite. I love this pic the best, what a phat fish.

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It was hard to call it quits. The lucky lure of mine had to be retired by days end for it was nearly stripped of all its bucktail. It hurt to do it, wondering if I’d find anything else in the tackle box to compare to it’s sheer gnarly-wickedassness..

The long ride back which Scotty referred to as “the super long fuck-off ride back,” took about an hour and a half or more. At the cabin I filleted the only pike of the week we kept; a badly gill bleeding 35 incher which ended up smoked on the BBQ over a cedar plank. On the side we had some cedar smoked sausages, veggies and pesto noodles too.

While Mike watched TV and I enjoyed some Led Zeppelin, Grant piped up with his plan for the coming day, “I’m gonna make some great casts tomorrow,” he says. We all had a good laugh.
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DAY 4. ANDANO AND DUDE RAPIDS.
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The Oldguy Trevor and I had a tricky start to the morning. The winds had completely changed direction and a cold front was rolling in on us for sure; the fish were just off. In a place like this and after the last two days we had just experienced, I almost didn’t expect to have to work all that hard for any fish. I chalked it up to karma. Yep, karma was coming our way today because of those two previously perfect days.

Grant was away with Norman well upriver on the spot Christine and I had enjoyed the double header trophies, while Scott and Mike were bringing up the rear fishing some bays below Torpedo behind us. Trevor and I couldn’t manage much except the necessary fish for another shorelunch on the rocks scheduled for 2pm. I suffered a gong when on an overhead cast I thwacked myself in the back of the head with a Husky spoon and it peeled off my cap and cast it out into the river. There’s still a bump, probably will be in 2018 too.

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After the big delicious feed we all set off for a bay which Grant, Christine and Norman had only a short time to fish but, it seemed to produce. Scotty and Mike though went the other way down river.

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Above a long but easy set rapids, Grant was there and into a nice sized walter. We went over for the photo-shoot and the necessary congrats on this tougher fishing day.

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The evening ride home Trev and I broke away to cast some new waters. It worked well, we both picked up a few fish on route. Found some weedy areas on the backsides of some islands and enjoyed a few pike explosions on different baits. I nabbed a 38 incher somewhere along the way but didn’t bother with a picture. Grant somewhere else also caught his first 40+ incher of the trip and Scotty later reported back with two trophy pike for the day.

After a lasagna and caesar salad meal I sipped my scotch at the table while PIC dying skitters rained down onto the floor and table in the cabin. With Norman we tried discussing the options for the following day as it was forecasting rain. Unable to make any concrete plan Scotty said we’ll just come over in the morning when we’re ready to head out. Norman’s reply before shutting the door, “You don’t have to come over, just call collect.”

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DAY 5. TORNADOES.

Mikey had been up to this so far.

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To consistently peg good pike and eyes I honestly think it takes some practice and Mike’s week was improving as he felt his way into fishing a new species for him. He did get the big fish on day 1 with Norman and I had really hoped to help get him on the trophy board this day. We took off at first with the group to Andano Rapids but by early afternoon parted ways and I don’t believe saw the others for the rest of the day.

The weather was all over the place. Sun, cloud, wind, calm, then eventually a little rain and really bad bugs in the evening. The morning was slow. By mid afternoon Mike had made mention that I had the horseshoe. It was an OK day numbers wise but neither of us had seen anything in the 40 inch range.

Come evening we were working our way home when we pulled into Torpedo. I nabbed a couple pike and Mike picked up one as well. On a new confidence lure of the day (an MT Livewell favorite) this big eye drilled it on the splash and drop.

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Just could not get over the average size of the walleye on this trip. Before arriving I had expected great numbers of eater sized fish with the odd five, maybe seven pounder gracing the boat. But this place traded nearly all those eaters for just generally big walleye. By weeks end between the five of us I could only guess at 3 to 4 dozen walleye in the 5-10lb range, with the one 12lb’er reported. I think the numbers could have been greater for both species had we not been dealing with water levels five feet higher than the normal for the season, but who knows? Fish were definitely scattered in the many more pockets and shoreline waters available to them. This was one walleye put back, even though I was making the group tornadoes for dinner.

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We picked our way along back to camp. The next spot we stopped I was casting into the seam created off an upstream point and a slow incoming creek when I got nailed hard but stuck no fish. I wouldn’t let up on that casting line after that, it was about a dozen tries later when getting jabbed not once, twice, thrice but four times by a ravenous 42″er. It was awesome having a pike take four hard swipes before stinging him.

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Not sure what Mike caught but I was happy to have a trophy for the day. As we drove down river to camp I got to work filleting the eyes for supper while Mike steered the way. Before fully retiring we saw the others were still out fishing so we fished the bay across from the cabin where I managed one more rocket for the day. Didn’t quite make biggun’ status but liked the lone tree in the background so I requested Mike take a pic.

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Bacon wrapped walleye fillets, corn on the cob and shrimp paela hit the late suppertime plate and the group marveled over Scotty’s report of a five 40+ incher pike day while out with Norman. Trev on the other hand bagged a big eye. Beauty fish Trev.

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DAY 6. LONG HAUL.

On our way down river the next morning we stumbled upon Mike (who was out with Norman) just at the right time. Mike was into a good fish and his new PB so Grant and I stopped in to help with the photos.

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It was a cold weather day. Toques were on us while in Toronto they were suffering a 40C humidex. I had longjohns but still had the chills part of the morning, and we could see our breath. Also had a real foul mood for the first couple hours which I should apologize to Grant for.

That all changed though after we had made a long run down river to the bay where I slayed the phat pike on day three with Scotty. When Grant I pulled in there and anchored my first six fish of the hour were all walleye in the 5 to 8 pound range. Dialed in” as Grant would put it, he on the other hand was having a bit of a slower start.

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The walleye fishing warmed me up. They were super aggressive these big fish as you’ll see in this next pic when a hefty eye thumped a 12 inch homemade two ounce inline musky buck. Didn’t fish walleye all week, (except for a few quick jigs to get shorelunch eyes) but they just hammered all the pike offerings.

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We exhausted the large bay for hours before deciding to set off around 3:30 and explore unchartered waters down river. Eventually the boat came upon one kickass spot around an area aptly named Highbank, because of the high banks lining the river.

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In another large, shallow back-eddied bay Grant and I had a few follows from some rather big pike. Grant was getting dialed in himself, and he caught a few fish in the area. He had never been north either for this kind of fishing and after our outing on day one I could tell he was zoning in on this kind of river fishing.

We pulled into the tail-out of the bay where a small creek comes in. We seemed to be in a slightly deeper hole. Grant cast to the shoreline off the bow and me the shoreline from the stern when simultaneously we both hooked fish. Grant’s wouldn’t budge, mine was big but workable. I could tell his was the better fish as he had little to no control so I got my high 30 inch fish into the boat and released quick to be free and help land his fish.

Grant eventually won the thing over but it seriously seemed to take about ten minutes of putting the gears to the brute. Boat side, the hand got under it’s plate and Grant had his PB of the trip a heavy 42 incher. Perfect.

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He never lost that grin off his face for the rest of the day. And with the long haul back upriver ahead we both near fell asleep driving to camp. Was another awesome day out where we stretched our time and rode home late, dodging scattered showers and taking wrong turns around islands.

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At camp Trevor reported his first 40+ of the trip as well, while he happily cooked up fajitas in perfect time for our arrival.
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DAY 7. VIRGIN COUNTRY.

Norman escorted us all down river just beyond where Grant and I had gone the previous day. Scotty shared the boat with me for our last kick at the can.

The fish were off, right off. The night before saw big rains and the morning was just killer slow. We had high expectations for the unfished water at a large rock dam which stretched two thirds of the way across the river. In behind this huge obstruction we figured would be tonnes of fish holding, and it might have… but they were just not co-operative. Except two eyes that Mike and Grant caught and one pike that I anglinated.

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Here in this place though I could not help but enjoy the scenery. Was quite gorgeous so I snapped a few pics and forced the guys ashore the rock dam for a group shot. Trev and Norman had buggered off in search of more activity so sadly I am missing some numbers in the one pic.

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We worked our way slowly back upriver after casting the heck out of this new spot. Grant and Mike were seemingly having some good fishing and at one point Grant was crushed when a large fish got off his line. Trev picked up a large eye with Norman as well. A heavy shower doused us all at one point so we kept moving along.

Fishing the “Phat Pike” back bay a thunderstorm moved in on us and forced us to shore for an hour. I told the boys they were about to be witness to the worst mosquitoes they would ever experience, and sure enough as the rains began to let up and the storm passed the bugs became so grotesquely thick that half a dozen would land on your hand between brushing them off about every second. Had the head-net on thank God!

Trevor, Christine and Norman were somewhere upriver from us. Scotty growing impatient wanted to move along and get clear of the bugs. We joked a little about the skitters but before long just made the b-line straight back to the cabin. The day was not one bit friendly except for when we arrived at camp.

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Ninety miles from Landsdowne House and three hundred miles from Attawapiskat, we finished up fishing “The River That Pike Built,” before enjoying a steak dinner and a few drinks. Twenty-five miles of river water in either direction from our camp, this was our playground for the week. All of it just sailing by us in the blink of an eye, yet with just enough of a glimpse to make countless memories. The following morning the twin Otter touched down and we all safely returned south.

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“Yeah. I hear the bugs aren’t as bad in that part of the bush.”
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Hope you enjoyed…
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Bunk.
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