An entire tackle store arrived at my house the other day. When I found it, the shop looked cramped in my mailbox – the postman had obviously rolled it like a burrito to get it to fit and now its edges were curled halfway up the inside walls. As I pulled it from the box, the tackle store sprung proudly back to shape, revealing a glossy green cover that glowed brightly in the sun. And on that cover was printed the magic word – the one that makes your pulse rate quicken, your mind wander and your wallet quake in terror – Cabela’s.
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