Coffee and Flies

Fly tying. It seems its all I am doing lately. A half dozen in the morning. Yoga. Shower, coffee, another half dozen. By lunch its a 2 dozen. By 4pm its 4-5 dozen.

I drink a lot of coffee. Days like today its probably a little much. It doesn’t help with the anxiousness of wanting to fish. But something about a good strong cup of coffee or 3 just seems to do it for me.

I am at the point where I have to make myself tie. After a few thousand flies this offseason I start to get sick of tying. I just want to fish. Which sounds like whining…because it is. But when you spend all that time on the river you miss it.

I miss a lot of things lately. Having the comfort of the river is something I crave. My mind has been all over the place and the river gives it direction and focus. Keeps the noise of everything else away. Tying flies leaves the mind open for contemplation. Most of the patterns are second nature and I find myself 3 or 4 flies into a set before realizing I have tied that many. Getting lost at the vise, but not in thoughts of troot.

I need the river to calm my brain. I have this constant, almost buzzing sensation throughout my head and body. Its maddening and a side effect of cabin fever. I have been sitting still for to long. I hate sitting still. Things move too fast or too slow. Everything.

I miss that river pace to the day. The rambling of the current as it pulls me down river. The feel of the river against my arms and back with each oar stroke. The sound of the water under the boat, feeling the boat and I move and glide over the current. It is where I feel at home. In my comfort zone, a place that seems foriegn as of late.

I am ready for the offseason to be over. Like really fucken ready. This offseason has been a lot of coffee and flies. A lot of new, weird, and uncomfortable situations. Met some new people, connected with some, severed connections with others. Did a lot of self reflection and exploration…but I am exhausted with it all.

I just want to get back on the river. I want to get lost in the water and trout. Trying to lose myself in other things, people, or places has not been what I expected or really wanted. A place holder it seems. While the winter ends and the spring ushers in a new season, I just keep drinking coffee and tying flies…waiting for the river to invite me back out.

See ya riverside anglers…eventually.

Tamarack

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.