It's 330 a.m. Saturday morning I've just gotten off of work, and too many people bought me shots. I am drunk. Luckily, a lot of my friends work nine to fives and can only fish on the weekends, which we all know is the best time to go! 530 a.m. rolls around and I get the phone call "see you in about 15 minutes." I've haphazardly thrown together some flies, smoked a couple bowls, (Colorado) and sloppily gathered my gear together. Now, one thing I've found that is key to my success in early morning weekend fishing trips, is making sure I smoke pot to ease the transition into relative "sobriety." You go from really drunk, to drunk and high, to just high, all while tearing through coffee, cigarettes, and water, so by the time 9 o'clock rolls around you feel like a million bucks, or at least two hundred and fifty thousand...
I'm startled by a loud knock at the door. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep at The vice, but here we go! I grab my gear, hop in the truck, and we're off to 7-11. Anybody that's ever been fishing with me knows beef jerky is an essential part of my fly fishing experience, and I suggest you try it! And besides nothing is better than digging through your bag on a long hike and finding that bonus jerky from last week!
We're finally on the highway! "North park it is?" "I've heard people have been pulling hogs out of the North Platte." "Their have been stone flies popping off, it'll be big dries all day!" Blah, blah, blah... The ride up is full of fish tales, hints of those secret spots you wouldn't even tell your mother, and how we're all giving up drinking and smoking for a "better life." Three and a half hours later. We made it!
First things first, smoke another bowl and gear up. "Hey, did anybody move my boots?" Followed by a collective "nope" "Well Fuck, I forgot my wading boots!" This isn't the first time this has happened, probably won't be the last. Besides, The shoes I have on will make great wading boots, right? Well at least I didn't forget my rod like last week. After a small romp through ankle breaking wetlands with cramped feet we finally make it to the river!
Nobody checked the weather did they? It rained all night last night. The water has the clarity of a Long Island iced tea, with way too much coke, and it's pumping like the squirter I finger banged two nights ago. There are no stone flies. There is no hatch. But at least I'm still drunk, well maybe a little high too. Fuck it, size 4 sex dungeon it is. Casting, casting, more casting. Sometimes I surprise myself with how well I cast while slightly inebriated. Even if I'm not catching fish, I'm usually having fun. That's the beauty of it. I had just gotten off of work and hit the water. What did you do after work? Go home cook dinner for your wife and kid? Went on Reddit and wasted enough time until you fell asleep and forgot about your day? Or did you fish Friday morning, go to work at nine in the PM, get off at 330am just to fish again until you had to work at 9pm again? Not knocking your thing, different strokes for different folks, but it's my life. I work, I drink, I fuck, I fish. Love has passed me by too many times for me to care about anything other than fly fishing these days. It's always been there for me, and will always be there for me until my last breath.
Fly fishing saved my life. What has fly fishing done for you?