Yes, it's that time of year again.
It's not Fall, it's not Spring, and winter is almost done.
Fishing sucks, hunting is done till April, the weather is at its most gray.
Flows of our steelhead rivers are as unpredictable as a manic-depressive who's forgotten their Zoloft.
The trip to Rocky Ford to fish for pond monkeys begins to sound appealing.
Our pilgrimage to the holy land of the Olympic Peninsula to chase wild winter steel rockets is close enough, yet far enough out to seem a long way away.
A 60 degree seems almost laughable and snow is a real possibility for a long time to come.
Yes folks, its Shacknasty season. The worst season of the year. You can only tie so many flies, go over your gear so many times, and so on. Internet message boards are full of posts where grown men chastise each other like middle school girls over trival topics like the perfect stonefly nymph and what line is best for what rod. Ahh, to be honest....that message board stuff is pretty funny.
We gots to just get through it.....the sun will soon crest over the horizon and full blown spring and summer will be upon us. Hold on, it's coming.
Now, go tell the Shacknasties to go fark themselves.