Today is day 764 of our two-week Covid-19 quarantine. I'm currently experiencing a dull ache behind the eyes and a feeling of listlessness. It's been quite a while since I last went fishing or hiking or snowshoeing or anything exciting. My consumption of random trail mixes has also increased. It's not a great combination.
To say that we are living in strange times is probably the understatement of the century.
The Best Years
The best years any angler will ever have are their first. It's not that during this time you're particularly good at it, far from it, you're pretty horrible. Most of your time is spent tying on a fly or untangling a knot. Your technique is poor, but you can't quite figure out how to fix it. Everyone else around you catch plenty of fish with seemingly no effort, but you only manage to catch trees and sticks, despite trying your hardest. But make no mistake, these are your best years.
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In Delayed Harvest water (stocked) Jacob will out fish me just about every single time. I suppose that it has something to do with his job and my hate for farmed fish.
Either way, I'm ok with it. But, it sure does make my life a little easier when they throw in some pretty ones.
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