Wednesday, May 13

River Temperature Beer and Bugs

I haven't really had time to write, or at least made time to write.  Instead here's a list of reasons I am chronically and hopelessly addicted to chasing bugs:

-it's not nymphing

-checking the weather and barometer every 10 minutes during the day's not nymphing

-hastily tying a few more patterns before I head out for the night

-the elation of finding bugs...followed by the devastation of watching them disappear into the trees

-sitting on the bank for an hour or two by myself, eyes to the sky.

-sitting on the bank for an hour or two with someone else of questionable sanity, talking about
 nothing and everything.

-the chance to catch fish above my skill level

-river temperature beer

-the assumption that yes, I'm going fishing tonight unless otherwise explicitly stated

-peppermint schnapps out of a flask

-the regret of drinking peppermint schnapps

-swearing to never drink peppermint schnapps on the river again

-an extreme lack of focus at work characterized by minutes of actual work, 10 minutes of reading and planning for the night, 2 minutes of work, an hour of reading and planning for the night...

-trying to catch suspended mayflies when they refuse to fall to the river

-deciding to become an entomologist

-deciding that I really don't care what the exact bugs are, I should just do my best to imitate them.  All  you need is an Adams or Borchers, really...right?

-deciding that I HAVE to know what the exact bugs are if I am to catch a fish.  Amateurs use Adams

-mousing or throwing streamers back to the Jeep if the bugs don't show up...sometimes...but mostly  giving up on them...because it's DRY FLY SEASON DAMN IT

-showing up at the river, even when you know conditions aren't right...because just maybe

-the unexplainable feelings that accompany seeing that first bug on the water

-wondering if you picked the right stretch of river

-changing locations, only to go back to the original spot after 15 minutes at the new spot

-wondering if mayflies taste good

-not casting to the little fish, or even the bigger fish, because you have become such a snobby douche...normally this phenomenon happens later in the bug season

-the inability to hold a normal conversation

-immediately becoming suspicious of anyone who asks if you've "been fishing much" or dares to ask "how the fishing's been."

-an eventual immunity to mosquitoes and the ability to tie a flawless knot regardless of the fact that there are 100 mosquitos per square inch on your hands.

-being able to fish every night without the guilt of missing out on time with the kids because they are already in bed.

-missing out on time with the kids because...based on temps/river conditions/barometric pressure/moon phase/water temps/farmers almanac/an old man's whisperings/gut feelings/male to female bug ratio...what if the bugs fall early?!?!  I should check the barometer again.

-questioning my sanity becomes a regular thing

-having days or even weeks go by without seeing a single fish rise

-spending countless hours on the river for what often times amounts to a 10 minute fishing window

-promising to try a new spot, only to find myself parked at THE spot later that night

-deciding to take tomorrow night off and finding myself on the river...again

-carrying bear spray after close encounters and being pretty certain that it will just make you taste  better

-knowing the local beavers by name

-driving as fast as possible to the I have longer to wait

Not infrequently I have to ask myself if this kind of behavior is I losing my last tenuous grip on reality?

There's a good chance, had I decided to put this effort into med school, I'd be a doctor by now, but who wants those kind of hours!

Chase contentment, chase bugs