I’ve put off writing this post all day, instead packing my life back into boxes and duffles. It’s always surprising how the messiness of life condenses down into a pile of random goods. I know how to pack, but to be honest I’m not really quite sure where to begin here.
I finish at Orvis this week, marking nearly two years learning a new job, new company, new locale, and seeing an entirely new part of the fishing industry. It was my first corporate job—first time seeing cubicles, suits and ties in meetings, and an office environment. For the first six months every day felt a little bit like an episode of Mad Men. I learned a lot, became frustrated a lot, and laughed a lot. I’m leaving behind a good group of people and some very dear friends.
But as I drive back West, I won’t be remembering the long days at the office. The Northeast will be remembered as a series of new adventures. Striper fishing on Martha’s Vineyard (I’ll be back!). Exploring New York City (again, I’ll be back). Chasing little brookies in Vermont, smallmouth in New York State, and laughing as NYC stock brokers told me to get in the back of the boat (I’m a girl, after all, and don’t make near the money he does) during the One Bug tournament on the Delaware River. (It all worked out in the end.)
It’ll be random road trips with friends, hiking over yellow, orange, and red hills in the fall, and cozy nights spent playing shuffleboard when it’s just too damn cold and dark to be outside. This has been a hell of a learning experience, and pieces of it are hard to leave behind.
But on to new and better things. If all goes as planned, a week from today I’ll just be landing in Bozeman, and hopefully unpacking with the goal of tossing streamers in the afternoon. I’m eager to get back on the Missouri River to see friends, hit up my old spots on the Gallatin, and tuck back into a routine. Excited to network within these new roles—to meet new folks, see new things, and learn. (After all, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?) I’m jumping deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole that is the fly-fishing industry.
And I figure somewhere along the 2,300 miles between Manchester and Bozeman, maybe I’ll come up with a name for the next series here on Chi Wulff. I have the feeling it’s going to be an interesting one.
Huge thanks to the people who have made my stay in the Northeast such an experience. See you on the flip side.
