You know when you're at work on Monday and the weekend seems so far away? Fishing is a month away it seems. It's so far away that you can't even see the light at the end of the tunnel. I never check reports or water flows on Monday. Why bother?
Come Wednesday though, the makings of a plan seem to be in motion. There is hallway chatter. Someone talked to a guide. Water's on its way down. The tying room gets some life. Boxes replenished.
By Thursday afternoon, the plans are made.
And then it's Friday and soon, we'll all be there.
It's a little different deal than the steelhead runs back home though. Two to four phone calls a night for the four days prior and then just a few texts on the day of. Meet one guy here, another there and another there. Drive as fast as you can, even though it doesn't matter when you get there. You'll still be sleep deprived but awake as ever come morning.
The people make the trips as much as the spots or the fishing does. Fishing all over the place is great and there are good fishing dudes everywhere, but there's something to be said about taking the same trips with the same dudes. Sometimes you just miss your dawgs.
Happy Friday fellas.
yes sir robbins. yes sir...
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