We're 17 days away from Durango! So naturally, it's time to start packing!
Here's a look at a few of the outdoorsy things I love and plan to take with me.
Read moreI Went Down To the River
I've got a song that I hum when things get difficult. When I get tired on a trail, frustrated with life or just when I'm thinking too much. I'm not sure when I started, but I think it was some time during college or right after. It's a song by the Duhks, Down To The River. A slightly folksy tune, a lotta bit of Cajun, and a little bit Irish jig. I imagine that if I ever endure anything extremely troublesome, let's say childbirth, I'd sing it at the top of my lungs.
This weekend Jacob and I headed out on my first big adventure in a long, long time. A good hike, paired with lots of high country brook trout is the perfect combination. I can't begin to describe how sweet the pine trees smelled during the hike or how refreshing that cold mountain water felt on my feet. There certainly aren't words to characterize the tug of a native brookie on the end of my four weight.
Read moreConfidence
One of the first lessons I received when learning to fly fish was confidence. "You've got to have confidence in that fly, in yourself," Jacob's words have remained with me all these years. It's why I fish certain patterns, choose long casts over short rolls and why I move through the water the way I do. It's all about where my confidence lies.
It's a funny thing when you lose your confidence. Perhaps you've spent some time off the water or had one too many bad trips. Maybe it was caused by a harsh word or unfounded judgment by a fellow angler. Then again it may have just disappeared and you have no idea how it happened.
For a while now my life has been filled with surgery, doctor's visits, high water, and more doctor's visits, with strict orders to stay out of the rivers and off the mountains. My body became fatigued during the process and my mind weak, resulting in a catastrophic lack of confidence.
Happy World Environment Day!
Over the past couple years there's been a movement in the angling community to kick plastic and pick up trash every time you go out fishing. The kick plastic was no big deal, I carry my hydro flask with me everywhere, but picking up trash proved to be a challenge. It's not that I'm opposed to cleaning up our rivers, but my net is just not big enough to hold the amount of plastic bags and water bottles, chip bags, and the inevitable Miller Lite Cans that seem to be everywhere. Filling up a net usually takes me a few minutes and then I move on to trying to shove trash in my pack or waders and always walking away disappointed.
Read moreIs This The New Normal?
This morning I got an alert on my phone prompting me to be ready to evacuate my home in case of flooding or a landslide. I'm not too worried about the flooding part. We live on a hill, and while we may not be able to leave the house, we'll be okay. But, I've been surveying my neighbor's yard all morning and reminiscing about all the trees they've cut down over the years. I packed a small bag that's in the car, just in case.
It's been raining here in Western North Carolina for two straight days and we've got three to go. Last week we went through the same predicament. I'm not talking about soft, delicate rain, but hard rain, the kind associated with thunderstorms and hurricanes and tropical depressions (insert Alberto). It's dark and wet, a feeling of seasonal depression has started to creep back into my being.
Fly Shop Days
Fly shops aren't simply retail stores.
They're places you hang out, gain knowledge, meet fellow anglers, and most of all, commune with your own kind.
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