Good column in The Drake.
Because fishing and fiddling go well together.
The browns had started to rise just as Sam
Bush was taking center stage. Twenty yards of dimpled St. Vrain trout
water was all that separated me from Planet Bluegrass amphitheater and a
full night of music in Lyons, Colorado. The urge to tube my rod
prematurely and forgo my well-designed plan was tempting, but I knew the
river had something left to give. A final fish slashed at a wildly
swung caddis and made a couple runs before coming in. With my gear
stashed I made my way through the crowd to my tarp. I stood for some
time in my wading boots, wiggling my toes to better feel the parts of
the river I’d taken with me. I looked out across the crowd, beyond the
stage, and back to the canyon water. Then Sam began to play...
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