Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

I’m sitting in the lodge after a full day on the river ferreting fish. Tomorrow is our last day here; we return to normal life with computers and cellphones and fax machines instead of fishing rods and reels and lures. I never thought I’d miss the latter. But I think I will.

What have I learned these past few days? Well, I’ve certainly improved my technical skills on a scale of one to ten. I’m at least in the middle range. I’ve caught one of each species of fish up here, called the Grand Slam, and I have a trophy mug to show for it.

I’ve become comfortable with tiny fly-out planes and tinier boats and big fish and even bigger desires. For instance, when Earl catches a really big fish, he then wants a bigger one. I say to him, “Relish this fish”; and he says,”I’m relishing.” But I know he’s thinking of bigger trophies tomorrow. As for me, I’m still relishing the fact that I caught a fish in the first place.

It’s taken Earl only a dozen years and thousands of dollars to make me a fishing enthusiast. But he’s always been patient in that regard, and I think it’s paying off. I can’t wait to get out on the water tomorrow, our last day this year, to cast for fish, cruise in the boat, have our last shore lunch of 2008, and maybe — just maybe — catch a BIG one. You might say I’m hooked.