Ever since I caught that unforgettable King off my parents’ boat in the San Juan islands in early July, my plans of continuing on a fishing streak throughout the rest of the summer never seemed to follow through…
Trust me, I want to be able to dive into all the salt water fishing opportunities there are around me for cutthroat, pinks and silvers… I want to be able to just get up early and beat the crowds to the nearby “spot” I know of to try and land one… Trust me, I do.
The problem is, it’s hard to be motivated to do those things when you are depressed.
Ever since the beginning of summer, my parents left for a 6-month business trip overseas for my dad (his last one before he officially retires– I hope!) and Andrew has been in various parts of Wyoming for his first clinical rotations for medical school. Thankfully I have plenty of family and friends who are still in the same or similar vicinity as I am, so it’s not like I am completely alone. I hate to admit that it still feels like that sometimes, because the three people who truly are my “rocks” in life and my constant companions are not here. This is the first time my parents and husband have been gone at the same time, and hopefully the last, because I can admit it: I’m a big baby who just needs her mommy and daddy sometimes! And, my husband is truly my best friend. I have no shame in admitting those things. Sure we all need a break from parents once in a while, but knowing that there are literally oceans between us right now, makes those weekend trips to visit where I grew up (have dinner, watch a movie and relax together), slightly more difficult. And of course, I know it could be so much worse… That’s what I keep telling myself, but the bottom line is: I am not myself these days and that is the reason why. (Insert Cymbalta commercial here)
So, I should be able to fill up this void with things I love to do and am passionate about, right? Fly-fishing should be on my weekly destination list…
The thing is, I know the runs on the rivers I fish for steelhead like the back of my hand now and am comfortable with them. Sure, there are summer runs of steelhead certain places nearby, but I just keep telling myself, “nah, I will just wait for what I know and am comfortable with: Fall steelhead in Idaho and winter steelhead on the Peninsula.” Again, because right now I lack my normal energy and vigor, all I can look forward to, is what I’m comfortable with.
Alas, at the end of September, I will be reunited with my husband (for a full 6 weeks!) and have a week of swinging flies for steelhead together on our favorite rivers in Idaho. From that point on, it’s game on for me.
I know eventually I will branch out and expand my fly-fishing horizons, but for now, I will just stick with what I know and love. That has given me something to look forward to, and it has helped me carry on through this emotionally and mentally hard time in my life.
While working two jobs and trying to keep up a fly-fishing writing job that has found itself pushed to the wayside for now, keeps you busy, it certainly doesn’t make up for people. It lets you forget about them temporarily when you’re busy offering a robust Cabernet to go with a customer’s grilled tenderloin steak… Or when you’re scheduling the doctor you work for for his next appointment, and have reports you (meaning he) is behind on… Those are the jobs that keep my mind off the important people I love and miss so much, and this fall, I will be in my element again.
Even though I know I am “missing out” on other opportunities one can pursue with a fly, to me, nothing can replace the passion and drive I have for fall and winter steelhead.
And for me, that’s just fine. For now…