How to Know You’re Back in Wyoming
Drinking in the recirculating air of the terminal, a day on the water sounded like a welcome respite. With the clock creeping near 10pm I had my fingers crossed that the last leg of my flight would come to pass. “Cancelled” and “delayed” were the most common words on every monitor. Customer service lines were a mile long, as stranded travelers looked to rebook flights and barter for hotel rooms.
Nearing midnight we touched down in Wyoming. The spring storm was showing little signs of easing up but tomorrow’s forecast called for early snow and showers, calming in the afternoon with a high of 50. It sounded like perfect conditions for a baetis hatch.
At 5am the alarm in the neighboring hotel room went off, then never stopped. By 5:30 I decided to count my losses and brew up with the single serving coffee pot. By 6am Sports Center had pretty well drowned out the alarm. Wishing I had remembered to throw long johns in the truck, I suited up and headed to the parking lot.
Rendezvousing with friends at the river we launched the boat into a stiff breeze. The weather man got it wrong. By late morning there was a steady sprinkle that was soon replaced by a downpour. The temperature never left the 30’s and mostly it hovered near the freezing point. A tug roughly every hour kept us engaged. A short window of rising fish even caused us to re rig and briefly forget the soaking conditions while we targeted them on the surface.
In the end numb fingers and soaked layers made the takeout a welcome sight. Cranking the heater in the pickup warmed the exterior. The core was eventually warmed by a hot shower back in the hotel. It was a perfect welcome home.