Rolling The Dice

The sun had already dipped below the horizon as I opened the car door. Coaxing my legs out of the driver’s side, I inspected the feet that now seemed tenuously attached to them. They looked like hamburger. Blisters were solidifying on the toes and pads. Hitting pavement I gingerly shifted my weight. My stiffening legs seemed nearly as problematic as the torn up feet.

It was worth it. A 5 a.m. start had us hucking just after sunrise. Traveling at a brisk gate in the cool morning air  put us at a remote backcountry lake by mid morning. We heard rumors of big cruising cutts. We also knew that it could be a total bust. With little information, we rolled the dice.

Arriving just in time to find calibaetis coming off the water, ahead of a midday breeze, we each had a fished hooked in short order. Our expectations were modest. Our goal was to find fish, maybe catch one. Anything more would be gravy. The fishing wasn’t easy, but our efforts were rewarded. Over the course of the day good fortune shined and we were able to pick off several fish, on dries. We were in the gravy.

Running up against the end of day light, we packed up and headed for the car at break-neck speed. We were in a hurry to catch a meal at the only restaurant in the vicinity, which had promised us they would keep the grill open until 10pm. We made it, but the 20 miles we traveled took its toll on our bodies. I could barely finish a beer, but was able to eat a good meal. Our gamble had paid off.