There is no better smell than pine trees. They have a distinct scent that is both calming and exciting. The scent of pines is a soothing one, but it also smacks of a wilder time, a wilder place.
I wake up to bitter cold. In my sleeping bag I’m comfortable enough, but the second I try to leave, I feel the chill go deep into my bones.
It’s hot. I can see the heat coming in waves off the rough-faced rocks. We are standing on top of a canyon that overlooks a river, looking down into the riverbed.
Everyone knows that real fishermen wear Smi’s gear. You aren’t a real fisherman until you’re a fly fisherman, and you aren’t a real fly fisherman until you have all the right gear.
I have learned to learn from failure. All my years outdoors has allowed me some wonderful, intense — at times dangerous — and beautiful experiences.
Cabin fever: the feeling of being trapped for too long in too small a space, unable to go outside because it’s freezing and dumping snow.