Fall is coming to the Missouri River front. While daytime temperatures still flirt with the nineties, nighttimes dip near fifty, and we find ourselves showing up to work with fleece jackets to fight off the morning chill. While shuttling yesterday, I noticed the trees are starting to offer hints of fall.
More anglers are pulling out waders, and suddenly the cold-season wear is selling in the shop.
Talk is beginning of streamers and October Caddis. Spey and switch chatter is popping up in Craig. Guides are showing up to the shop with their “fall” haircuts… when it’s a twice-yearly event, haircuts are a big deal.
And while the rest of the town is starting to think about the impending change of seasons, I’m packing my life into duffels once more and moving.
Yesterday was my final day at the shop, and before dawn this morning I began the drive to Seattle.
It’s odd to think my time on the ‘Mo is at a closure. I’ve formed an odd little family here, and it’s become a simplified existence of the river, fish, anglers and a daily routine. A quiet life. I have no doubt things will be very different on the coast, and while I’m looking forward to the challenge and new work, it’s always unsettling to leave a place, a routine. And friends.
I have no doubt, however, that I’ll be back to visit the river and friends.
A book project is in discussion about the Missouri River corridor and its people – lots of ideas floating about and I’ll be curious to see what “sticks.” This summer has been too crazy, too odd, too awesome not to write about.
I’ll continue to write for Chi Wulff in some capacity or another, I have no doubt, and interested readers can check out features coming out soon in Fly Fisherman, The Drake and American Angler. For better or worse, I seem to find myself in the fly fishing industry for the long haul.
So here’s to new adventures. And for those venturing out to Seattle, give me a shout and let’s go fishing!
