This was going to be the week that I finally got on the water again. That nearby river looks so sweet on Google Earth, with three, four, maybe five bridges in the first ten miles upriver from the mighty Columbia, all with easy access and lots of bends and channels. Reports say it's fishing well, with nymphs taking most of the fish.
My box of big stonefly nymphs vibrated like a cell phone when I read that.
Then Sunday night I'm finally bringing the boat to dock after a hectic Christmas season, and the backwash slams me right into the pier. Literally.
No, I'm just kidding. Figuratively. What would I be doing in a boat?
What happened was the cold and sore throat I felt dogging me for a few days finally caught up with me just when the pressure was off and I let down. So I'm sick. May that be a lesson to us all.
But it's only Wednesday. I may have broken the back of this thing. There's still hope.
Meanwhile this looked real good to me. Maybe I'm still feverish.