The problem with having a favorite time of year is the temptation to wish away the rest of it.
Outdoorsmen and women, probably men more than women, can get so fixated on an identity that we can’t live year-round, we just punt away so much of our time.
This makes us risk totally miss the point when the time comes, especially if things start to go south. Every year my guide buddies tell me about the guy who shows up desperate for a 50-pound king salmon because he likely spent the winter bragging to his friends about how he was headed to Alaska. He sees no whales. He enjoys no conversation. It’s hero shot or bust. He goes home with plenty of fish, but not the right one. He calls himself a hunter or angler, but really, he’s just a dude looking to stroke his ego.
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