We’re on the last leg, though I’m pretty sure that fish don’t have legs. Six states to go, and our plan is to finish the last six this year. New Jersey, Massachusetts, South Dakota, Nebraska, Wyoming, and Montana . . . We completed the South last year with Georgia and South Carolina, and the Southwest with Utah and Arizona. We’re saving Wyoming and Montana for last.
Nothing is planned, except a trip to Montana in September and then a few days at the Old Faithful Inn fishing in Yellowstone. I keep thinking I need to plan, but in January–on January 6 no less–it’s hard to have much faith in the future. What a black day.
I keep thinking that I should calculate things like how many miles we traveled, how many nights we spent, how much money we spent, and how many species of fish we’ve caught. Maybe I will, but not today. Today maybe I’ll think more about Wyoming. Wyoming is a good place to fish.
We won’t be the first people to catch a fish on the fly in each state, but we haveearned some great stories, and we’ve met some great people. Some one said to me recently that when we finished we could start again.
God no.
