It takes significant inspiration to rise early on a weekend morning and go fishing. The night before your outing you contemplate your target, and draw up a plan of attack. Choose the rod, spool up a line, and rummage through boxes to find the right flies. Last minute calls to compadres sew up meeting place and time. Anticipation of what’s ahead, and lingering questions, will keep you awake until the wee hours.
The conditions are perfect. Who will be the first to request a bathroom stop? Should I start the day with streamers? Will anyone give me gas money? I hope there are fresh Krispy Kremes at the Conoco.
Making your way to the fly shop on a weekend morning during the holiday season also requires physical and mental preparation. Unlike fishing trips, however, you need clean clothes (albeit they don’t need to be pressed). You’ll probably grab a shower, something you can also pass up when headed outdoors. Browsing through a few fly-fishing magazines, paying particular attention to the ads and destination chatter, doesn’t hurt. And you’ll sleep like a baby, subconscious thoughts notwithstanding.
I have to finish up that fly sorting. Will I sell a rod and reel tomorrow? That shipment of new Lamson reels is due in any day. Will that cute blond come into the shop again? I hope there are fresh Krispy Kremes at the Conoco.
Or, now that the owner’s out, and his drool-prone dogs are out with him…
MG signing off (confident the glitz and glam is right around the next bend)