the boat. Damn. How do I expect to catch anything if my fly isn’t even in the water! I gather my rod and hop out of the boat. I push my legs through the frigid water, wading out into the river tentatively. I cast and cast… more practicing than real fishing.
I spot another drift boat upstream, a local guide that Jim chatted with earlier in the day. Anxiety creeps up my spine as they float closer, I don’t want them to see my goofy casts. I contemplate finding something to fidget with until they pass, but instead I feel a pang of courage and decide to go for it. I whip my line around in a small whoosh and cast. I feel good about this one!
Fwap!
The fly nails me in the back. I reach over my shoulder to find the fly buried in my puffy. I stare down at the water, too nervous to look up and hope they weren’t watching.
Well at least my time spent untangling the line will give them enough time to pass before they can see another one of my heinous casts, I think.