I didn't want to go

And when I say I didn’t want to hit the river, I meant it. I woke up that morning and actually groaned. That heavy, almost blistering sound while you’re stretching out the sleep. The ‘I’m tired AF, leave me alone’ groan. All I could think of was shimmying into comfy sweats and watching Masterchef all damn day. As some of you know, I’m currently Guiding as well as attempting to build a beautiful little Career Coaching practice. And again, as some of you know, this shit is hard. So, putting in the hours of casting, typing, learning…repeat…can be a little overwhelming. I was tired and lazy.

I really didn’t want to go.

So, off I went. Grumbling, mumbling, biting literally ANYONES head off. Got the coffee. Slapped the Buff on the head. Put my damn boots on and stepped my ass into a new little river. I fell 3 times as I navigated the unfamiliar banks and dog legs. I literally grabbed nettles to steady myself from an upcoming slow-motion fall. I sneezed approximately 68 times. I was so tired that I knotted my leader what felt like every second FREAKIN cast.

…It was the best day ever.

Welcome to my world

So. I’m up at 6am - Bagel and coffee in hand. I get to the river, gear up. I have 57 mosquito bites on me already, but that’s fine. The morning mist is literally steaming - encroaching on every nook and cranny of the river banks. I stash my coffee in my car for later, and start the bank slide. I made it down, and everything around me was almost disgustingly beautiful. I watch for rises. I squint for bugs. It’s just as nice watching as it is participating. I can smell the freshly bloomed lilacs. I can feel those damed mosquito bites.

I spot a 6 pound brown.

I watch for another couple minutes to see how much she’s feeding. I’m still hungry. We have that common, obviously.

I start with a dry. I get it together. Leader on. Tippet knotted. Fly lookin like a SNACK.

Guess what I do then?

I fall straight on my ass.

Welcome to my world.

Sometimes I forget

I rarely fish off my dock. I literally live on a lake, and I rarely fish off my dock anymore. I’m not sure what changed. I started heading to the rivers more and I just…stopped. Did I think that the fish in this lake weren’t as nice as those in the rivers? Not as feisty and angry as the Steelies, or as determined to crunch a streamer like a big brown? Again, I have no idea.

My partner was with me one evening, and brought out our fly rods. We caught a crap load of crappie (ha), incredible pumpkinseed sunfish, watched 6-7 pound largemouth bass chill out near the docks. He even moved a 30in Pike from under the boathouse.

Sometimes I forget that the fish here are spectacular. That all fish have their quirks, their homes, their habits.

Fish while you can, where you can.

You’ll always be surprised.

I'm Ready. Are you?

“I’m ready”.

My every-single-morning saying has now made it’s way into my first blog post for @ontarioflygirl. Do I actually feel ready? Mostly never, let’s be honest. Most mornings I don’t even know why or for what I’m saying those words, but holy HELL do they make me feel good.

If I say it, I will be. Act so confident and no one will question you, right? Well then, I’m ready to do just that.