A Quick Trip
It was a short trip out on Puget Sound Saturday morning. Barely 10 minutes out of the car was all it took for the sting to creep from our fingertips down through our wrists. By the 4th cast there was a thin coat of ice formed on the fly line. By the 10th, the guides were frozen solid. The sun offered no relief, as it was still an hour or so from peaking over the top of the hill behind us.
We took a moment to process our options. The tide was pushing toward the drift wood around us, picking up the logs lying the lowest on the beach and rolling them around with a discomforting ease. It hadn’t even reached high tide yet.
At some point during mornings like this the lyrics to the old Kenny Rogers song become applicable: “you got to know when to hold ’em…..know when to fold ’em.” A fish swirled a few feet away from us, but we were already moving towards the car. Maybe another day.