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Interesting you say that about Trevor. His daddy Mike made himself ( and me) a nice living scraping the rail at Finger Lakes. Especially on the slop.
While all the others would drift wide, Mike would be on the wood picking up the pieces. Regardless of how small the hole was. But you could never say a bad word to Mike after he dismounted without getting an earful back.
Good times at the Lakes.
Sorry about the digression. You brought back some memories.
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