Rocky Mountain Shit Show
Well kids, in less than three weeks it’ll be time to load up the old family truckster, de-louse Murphy, ply Ryan into the car with a pile of tamales, and head west. We are proud to announce that the first annual Bent Rod Media Rocky Mountain Shit Show (B.R.M.R.M.S.S for short, T-shirts will be available shortly) is about to hit the road, so put your farm animals away because there is no telling what kind of depravity will result when I hit the road sans Wifey and the Boy. I am not the first pseudo-Hemingway on the fly fishing scene to pontificate on the subject of the summer road trip nor will I be the last, but with apologies for my NASA like redundancy, here’s my take.
Nymph-o’s Anatomy Of A Successful Summer Road Trip
Without conception none of us would be here, so it should be immediately clear to you the importance of this stage. Trips can be conceived one of two ways, the first being a result of careful planning and a lot of thought, or secondly they can be conceived in the back of a Volkswagen merely because the opportunity presented itself. These wham bam thank you ma’am trips of opportunity are usually the ones that result in criminal records, the severing of all ties with friends and loved ones out of sheer shame, and also the best stories. I mean there is no way to plan on discovering a midget lucha libre academy while trying to find your way to some river you heard about in the bar the night before. There just isn’t an appropriate slot on the itinerary for that kind of awesomeness.
The right mix of players can make or break the trip. I personally like to include at least one individual, with low self-esteem, to act as the vessel where the rest of us guys can deposit all of our brow beating. You know this guy, he is usually overweight with a weak upper lip, and the distinct possibility of wetting himself is always in play (Thanks Murphy for being our guy).
Always go with the most unreliable form of transportation available to you. This rule goes for trucks, boats, planes, and helicopters (not so much for Star Trek like Transporters…with those you will want to see a maintenance record before even setting foot in the transport room). Why would you wanna deny yourself the pleasure of haggling with some slack-jawed Kansas yocal over the price of a new fuel pump. These are life skills we’re building here folks. Once your chariot has been chosen make sure you overload the junker as much as possible by cramming into it every fly fishing and camping related piece of crap you have ever thought about buying…you never know when you are gonna need a solar shower or your neoprene waders from 1982, right?
If the other steps laid out here are carefully followed, the fishing becomes almost inconsequential. But for the sake of filling out the rest of this bullet point let’s give it a whirl. I like to go places I haven’t been to before because then I at least have part of the trip to enjoy the anticipation and hope of success before I find out how bad the fishing is going to suck the one time I get to go there. This I have named the rule of “Why Does It Always Suck As Soon As I Show Up”. The reasons for it sucking will be many; weather, fish, bugs, the white slave trade, the Olson Twins…it really doesn’t matter because in the end it’s going to suck, and suck hard. This is where other avenues of entertainment are key. Look for examples of local culture; go to a donkey show, talk the homeless into doing inappropriate things in exchange for left over baloney sandwiches, be creative.