Good Times Down at the River

Biked down to my spot by the river tonight. It was peaceful until the mosquito's arrived in mass and forced me homeward.

My backpack carried with me an old journal from the college days, a water bottle, my laptop, and out of request from safety Mick- my cell phone. Secretly I wished for it not to ring and my fairy godmother granted my wish. That or Mick is becoming more accustomed to my cell phone disdain and resisting the urge to 'check in'. Either way, I was pleeasantly pleased.

While reading up on and attepting to write my first history 101 story I'm aiming to post soon, I watched a guy work his tricks with the fly and contemplated why I have not tried my hand (arm?) at fly fishing. Then, I remembered how my good buddy Dave Jeppeson from college almost had me convinced to take a fly fishing class with him. He promised I'd love it. I agreed I might. There were only two problems: touching wiggly slimy fish bodies was not in my repertoire for fun, nor did I enjoy consuming fish. I would rather have viewed fish fining in a watery bliss, so I opted out. Dave would not have had it in mind to be my catch releaser anyway, and I would have insisted.

Now, my adventurous self would get past the slime issue, be tough and have a blast learning something new. I might even enjoy eating my catch, as I have a new love of Salmon and Halibut so why not fresh water fish? Maybe I should take a fly fishing class. Maybe I should try trout again.

For today, I enjoyed watching Mr. Fly Fisherman work magic with his line and fly. He eventually noticed me on the bank of the river behind a tree watching his every move and soon left. On my ride out, I passed him on a different bend in the river. His dreadlocked head gave me a nod that suggested a common love for a good evening outdoors. I gave him a raised hello and smile in agreement.

Good times on the river tonight.