There are layers of truth in life that are rarely brought up when planning a fishing trip. If you're like me you get caught up in the usual rigamarole of gear and food once the basics of where and when are settled, and personal feelings get left to the side. But this is an unusual time with considerations that six months ago were stuck on the other side of the planet but now must be talked about. A week ago I began to run a fever, not a high one but it stuck around for three days. Throw in body aches and if it was last year I'd say I had the flu or one of those things that hits, lays you low for a few days and then you're back at the routine. But not this year. I doubt I have covid-19 but will be tested today and should have the results by the end of next week. Anyhow, a series of e-mails and phone calls followed with the idea we all lay our feelings on the line and not let the thought of the fish we may or may not catch cloud the issue. At the moment we're all in, depending of course on how my testing goes.
The odd thing is, at 73 the idea of not going isn't the end of the world feeling it once was. Possibly that's because I'm still dragging ass and pretty much low on caring about anything. But I know for a fact that the others are hot for the trip and once we hit the road I'll feed off their energy. I once wrote about the last wilderness canoe trip my son and I took in Manitoba, "Allan was nice enough to let me steer the canoe but I knew who was moving the boat." That's the thing about old age, so long as your brain and dreams are alive and you have a few young bodies nearby, you can still get it done.
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