Following an unsuccessful morning whitetail deer hunt, I drove over to the top of the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness and photographed on the Presque Isle River while the light remained good. The sun popped out about 1100 and that was it. I can never work with the camera here without memories of my early years in black and white photography, camping here with kids, and carrying one or the other's ass up and down the hundreds of stairs to get down to the river. Fond memories of them growing up learning to appreciate the wilderness (and tolerate waiting for their father, mesmerized behind one camera or another). It stuck with the two oldest, who got the most exposure.