You know how it goes: you're 3 days into a 4 day fishing trip and already you're dreading the trip coming to an end. Getting away, being in a beautiful place, doing something you love isn't often something you're eager to put behind you. Not only are you dreading the current trip coming to a resolution, you're probably standing there, feet in river, planning your next trip in between casts. This is typical. It's something that almost every one of us who considers fishing a passion can relate to. On certain rare occasions, however, the best part of a fishing trip isn't the biggest fish that came to hand, or the time spent catching up with friends, and it most certainly isn't the whiskey hangover you spent the second morning of the trip enjoying. Sometimes, the best part of a fishing trip is the drive home.
Now, I know I'm not supposed to say this. If you read a healthy variety of fly fishing publications these days, you've likely come under the impression that the true die-hard breed of fly fisherman spends every waking minute on the water. If you consider yourself a die-hard fisherman as well, then you best not talk about not fishing or otherwise performing fishing related activities. Not ever. The ecstasy of being on a river, rod in hand, is at all times so overwhelming that the very thought of leaving is preposterous. True die-hard fly fisherman have tales of glory to share, tales of steely reserve that allows them to be on the water in the most inhospitable conditions without experiencing a moment of displeasure. This modern, agro fly fishing denizen fishes in Alaska in sub-zero temperatures while simultaneously being dispatched by his 14th wife and/or girlfriend and while grizzly bears maul and consume his children. Stopping. Fishing. Can. Not. Happen.