Waking up on a frigid, foggy, 40-something degree autumn morning in Colorado is something you should never take for granted. About an hour and fifteen minute drive away from a 14-mile stretch of gold medal trout water. The possibility of getting 20+ in. fatty’s to the net fuels the fire that drives your passion for this lifestyle.
Soon your watch reads 7:25, so you lace up your boots and grab your Patagonia pullover in case it gets cold out there. You turn to leave and see your Winston Air leaning against the wall, right next to your abundance of equipment (which you bring with you every single time you go fishing, even if you haven't used some of that stuff in years). Again, your mind finds itself in the middle of a freestone trout stream. Casting a size 10 yellow belly hopper (even though you know trout have been hitting the minuscule size 24 trico right now), to a streamline monster in the back eddy under a large pine tree. The perfect cast, just the right fly choice, on-time hook set, a heart racing fight leading to an elusive SportsCenter Top 10 contending net job by your brothers. A legendary fish, picture, and moment. All in your head.
You see that rod sitting there full of possibilities and as hard as it is, you reluctantly grab your Mtn. Dog backpack. Not full of fly boxes, tippet and various reels, But, binders, pencils and a laptop. You strap on your go-to fishing cap and jump in the car headed to school. An empty rod vault, no Yeti cup full of magic fish-catching coffee and no half-ass made ham sandwich in the cooler. Not today. Today is just another day. Until tomorrow, because tomorrow who knows. Maybe you grab the R.L. Winston greenstick and head out into your comfort zone. You never know.