A Weekend With The Boss. Pt: 1 No shortage of Bad Days

The morning smelled of fish. Maybe it was from the rain the night before. Maybe it was the prophetic fishy senses that kick in upon the morning of fishing. It was too early to tell. 4:00am isn’t exactly the time for epiphanies, or prophecies for that matter. Heck, the sun wasn’t even ready to kick off the day yet. Thoughts of the day to come circled through my head and it wasn’t long before I began to think about the situation that I had gotten myself into. Fishing with the boss. Not technically my boss, but the boss above my boss. I packed to prepare for the day thinking that one fishes to get away from the stresses of work and everyday life. The reset button if you will. Many nights at work have been spent talking to “The Boss” (John) until well after my 10:00pm bedtime. I was worried that the conversation around riverside would revolve around work.

Destination: South Platte 

With John’s 13 year old son Steven in tow, the 3 of us traveled to more “Dreamy” locations of Colorado’s renowned South Platte River. The 2.5 hour drive felt much shorter than it was while sharing stories of the past. John is one of those people that has a bottomless pit of stories. He has been fishing for around 20 years and it isn’t difficult to gather those stories over that amount of time. A die hard fly fisherman to the core, and that same intensity rubbed off on his son. 

We arrived at some of John’s more well known water, where he knew all three of us could pick up some fish. Maybe it was also to feel me out as a fisherman or just a boatload of B.S. I assure you that I’m not a liar, but when it comes to the size of a fish, I might add an inch or two. Never 3. It took a little time to get on the water after setting up a lunch site complete with a table and chairs, and unheard of luxury in my world. We even had plastic utensils! When we did make it to the water, John was the first to quickly pick up a fish while I struggled with a hole that I knew held a monster. I missed a lot of strikes due to excitement. When I peered around the bend, Steven had caught his first one of the day as well. I still struggled. John picked off more fish from water that didn’t look like it even held fish and I was curious to know what I was doing so wrong. In my defense, I’m not used to fishing these medowy type rivers. I’m used to dense cascading water that races down the mountain. The fish that I brought to hand was a surprise and it didn’t take long for me to find a groove.

Lunch at riverside was amazing. John and I split a bottle of wine and munched on sandwiches and fresh fruit. Lunch couldn’t have been more complete unless we had cigars. Well, I guess we did that too. We relaxed for a while there and people began to peel off of the river, leaving only the three of us at 2:00pm. For the rest of the day we had the river to ourselves. Until the storm came uninvited.

John sent Steven to the car while we weathered the rain for a short time. This is where the story comes to a crashing halt. Hiking in the rain is not a problem, the cold isn’t even an issue when you have a dry destination before you. A dry destination we had indeed. While waiting for the storm to pass, we had a beer or two and laughed about times past while music gently played in the background. The music plays a significant role in the events to come, shortly. The storm wasn’t passing and the enjoyment that came from watching it was relaxing. After a couple hours, it was getting darker and time to go. The key went into the ignition and the starter turned the engine over. Once. Dead battery. It was getting dark and cold and no one was there to lend a helping hand. On top of that, we were in the middle of nothing on a nameless stretch of the South Platte. We were cold and wet, but we did have enough cell phone service to call AAA. It only took them an hour to get there, in any other condition I may have died, but they made it and jumped us. The hotel ahead was a luxury I have never experienced. As John cooked a pasta dinner I was already in and out of sleep. Shortly after eating, I was sawing logs and “Dreaming” of the day to come…

To Be Continued…

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8 responses to “A Weekend With The Boss. Pt: 1 No shortage of Bad Days

  • cofisher

    So far it sounds like a nice trip, other than the dead battery. I would have locked the keys in the car. Awaiting part 2.

  • Erin Block

    ” A die hard fly fisherman to the core, and that same intensity rubbed off on his son. ” and then pow! That picture. I grinned for the rest of the post. Can’t wait for pt. 2. Oh, and that dead battery thing has been my paranoia for some time now….great, now I’ve probably jinxed myself.

    • backcountryfishnerd

      For the record, that picture was taken early on day 2. I just thought it was fitting. There is a story behind it as well. But hey, that is for the next post.

      About the battery, you are safe. There is no jinxing here. Unless, by saying that, I jinxed you. Either way, my fault.

  • Royal Wulff aka Mike

    catered lunch over linen table cloth, sterling silver cutlery, vino, cuban cigars. That’s a far cry from a camelbak and a can of peanuts! Fun tale, looking forward to the rest of the story~ mike

  • Sanders

    I’m not sure you’ll ever want to fish with me after the fancy meal and caught fish…ha!

    I’m with Erin….I’m nervous now about a dead battery. Looking forward to the second half of this adventure. Or as you told Howard “the payoff” 🙂

    • backcountryfishnerd

      Well, crullers are a fancy lunch to me. I’m fine with catching one fish on the Poudre, next time shall be my revenge. I had better remember my thinking rope.

      I don’t want my readers paranoid about a dead battery, you are just spreading this plague! Our karmic dividends were paid off thanks to the battery.

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