I heed the call. A Yampa River trip has gone bust, and a young-ling is headed home distraught, dismayed…downright dejected. “I had a really bad day, and I need a good one,” he says. Ego is at play. And ego can cost you chips.
I can spin a simple fishing story into uncommon philosophical diatribe
I’m sitting at my desk, thinking of anything and everything but fly fishing. Numbers are in the midst of tumbling, plans are being made in writing, and the rain is pouring down, if momentarily, in Denver (as is always the case). It seems there is a lesson to be taught, one in dealing with adversity. Fly fishing, like every other fancy, is no more than a series of bets made, subsequent wins and losses, and a tally. Like chips in a bucket – some days you take some out and some days you put some in. The key to success is not kicking over your pail when things get rough – you’re out of chips immediately and the game ends. If you’re really good, the chips overflow early and often, yet you’ve also become wise enough along the way to double up when the going’s good and cut your losses early. You’ll never run out of chips that way.