Karl W. Hoff

Dad and I shared many fishing trips to catch trout in the streams of northern NH. Once when I was about 14, just as I cast my line, a beaver popped up right beside me. I stared at him, he stared at me and then took off. Those big teeth and the wallop on the water from its tail scared the bejeezus out of me and dad had to carry me on his back out of woods to the truck.