Recently, the Durango Chapter of the Men Who Fly-Fish Club (DCMWFF) held a three-day fly-fishing outing.
After participating in this event, I began to wonder how a three-day outing of the Durango Chapter of Women Who Fly-Fish Club (DCWWFF), if there were such a club, would differ from the DCMWFF. Not surprisingly, there were some big differences.
For starters, the five members and one dog of the men’s club arrived in two mud-covered trucks with enough gear, food, adult beverages, cigars, pipe tobacco and chew to stay for a month.
We operate on the theory that, should the world actually fall apart, we want to be prepared to stay awhile.
I believe the women’s club would arrive in a spotless van with just the right amount of food and gear to last three days. Their adult beverages would consist of white wine chilled to the perfect temperature. The food would be prepackaged into meals that Dr. Oz would approve, and there would not be any tobacco products.
For equipment, each lady would have one rod and reel, one fly box, three leaders, one spool of tippet and a book to read by the river when they got tired of fly-fishing.
When the men’s chapter arrived at the cabin, it was a race to see who could unload, unpack, boot and suit and get on the river the fastest.
To unpack, the men put their clothes where they should be – in the middle of the floor. Food was shoved into the ice box, a cold one was opened, because we know beer is a great breakfast drink, and the fastest member was on the water by 10:30 a.m.
The reason it is 10:30 in the morning is that we didn’t get out of town until 6.
On the other hand, the women’s chapter would get out of town at 10:30 a.m. because they stopped at the farmer’s market for vegetables and coffee, then got the van washed.
Once at the cabin they’d arrange the food by color and type in the refrigerator, unpack their clothes into a dresser, eat a leisurely lunch and head out to the stream by 2 p.m.
Once the day has ended, the DCMWFF drag in, wash their hands (maybe), pour an adult beverage, light a cigar, light the charcoal, put the steaks on, toss a salad, substitute Cheerios for the croutons left at home, eat and then begin to tell fly-fishing stories and really old dirty jokes.
I imagine the DCWWFF would arrive back at the cabin with lots of energy. After all, they hadn’t been up since 5 a.m. They’d get cleaned up, put on fresh clothes, pour white wine into real wine glasses (not coffee cups), heat their perfectly balanced prepackaged meals, sip more wine and then tell the absolutely funniest dirty jokes you’ve ever heard.
Having guided both men and women, I promise the best jokes come from the ladies.
Mornings, for the DCMWFF, can be a little scary. Usually while I am sipping a cup of coffee and enjoying the cool morning air, the second ugliest sight known to man appears. One of the male members wanders into the kitchen wearing a baggy pair of tighty-whities, pours a cup of coffee, then warms his backside by standing close to the oven that was left on all night.
On the other hand, the DCWWFF members emerge from a good night’s sleep coifed and ready for the day. Their fishing shirts would be ironed, their pants would have a razor crease, their sunscreen would be evenly applied, and they wouldn’t be grumpy.
What a difference.
However, the one thing we do have in common is our love of fly-fishing.