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The Two Danger Signs of a Fly Fishing Writer Near the Edge…

Writer warning signs...
Courtesy an apparently zany Bonnie Boots at writesideout.com

Tonight was supposed to be spent out on the river, but let’s just say a “communications emergency” kept me inside, typing madly and whining hugely.

That’s OK. Tomorrow is more work, but Saturday I’m hoofing it into the mountains to a brookie lake. I’m stuffing my old, old Bucks Bag Mustang float tube into my new, new Osprey backpack and nearly hitting the trail (and hoping the trail doesn’t hit back).

The tricky bit will be the hike out.

You want to stay until the last fishable minute, but to get home, I’ve got to deflate the tube, climb a steep ridge on an unstable trail, and then hike three more miles (being threatened by wild, rabid animals the whole way).

Headlamp, anyone?

Fortunately, I’m an extremely manly outdoorsman, so I’m only a little terrified of the dark, and it’s very likely I won’t soil myself. Well, mostly likely anyway. See you in the mountains, Tom Chandler.

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