It’s been seven months and a handful of days since I cast a line in quest of trout. I’m itching in a bad way to get back in the river. Matters were complicated last week when Husband went fly fishing without me. I’ll forgive him eventually, but perhaps not until I’m waist high in waders with a net full of…
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Sabbath Rest {YMCA of the Rockies}
On the coldest day of the year in Austin, I pull my fleece jacket tight and slide my hands deep into pockets. My fingers fumble over a piece of paper lost but now retrieved. A fishing license. Permission to wade in Colorado waters and cast my rod like a spell in hopes a greenback cutthroat trout will magically appear taking…
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Leaving Normal: A Fly Fishing Lesson
I need to be honest with you. I’m a reluctant mountain mama. Don’t get me wrong I love being in the mountains. It’s doing the mountains that doesn’t come so easily for this city mouse. Last week I arrived to Rocky Mountain National Park wearing flip flops, a crisp white linen shirt and triple layers of turquoise beads. This attire is…
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