|A fine desert morning|
Awaken by the annoying but seemingly mystical sound of a cell phone alarm. The first beams of dawns light still not quite visible, at least not to my eyes seemingly hard shut by the night before. My body has a better sense of what it is doing that the guy running it as I notice myself half way through making the morning cup of Joe. The coffee sound like the best idea I have had in awhile. It is going to be the first step in getting the taste of Coors Light and cheap cigars out of my mouth this fine November morning.
The air feels crisp, maybe 25. I was wrong thermometer says 27. While picking up the beer cans I notice the next of my evening follies. Left my waders outside, damn I needed to start a new fire anyway right. The coffee is working quickly today not even a whole cup and I am off for the morning movement. Done with that now I am feeling better. Deciding between another cigar or bacon and eggs, @#$! it I am feeling like a hundred dollars I will have both.
So I light up a new cigar, and start to enjoy this one being a slightly better make than the ones that were smoked whilst drinking. A good breakfast smoke. Speaking of breakfast I burnt the god damned toast. I would have gladly given these pieces to the dog but I only have heels left. I know I will just add more salt and pepper than normal, it will be fine. Waders are starting to thaw so I figure it is time to jump into them. Boot fits nice, but at first colder than I was anticipating. I could either pee in them or at least pour what is left of the current cup of coffee into these bad boys to warm them up. Now time to eat, quickly. Set the egg on the over seasoned burnt toast add 2 pieces of bacon fold bread in half. All seems wonderful especially the yoke drippings on the front of your waders. It is not that cold and I was planning to wade that deep anyway, right!!!
Sliding into my wading jacket. With a bit more inspiration start packing up camp. The movement triggers a good warm body heat. Giving the camp a final look no trash, no ash, and nothing important left behind. The best part of the morning yet to come. With an outreached hand that feel of cork in ones grip, and the revelation of a whole new day ahead. Excitement now taking the place of the hangover, and dawns full light show paving the way to great water. With all thing considered the life of a hopeless steelhead angler is just not that bad.