Delightfully Miserable

It's not that I prefer awful weather. I like 75 degrees and sunshine as much as the next guy. However, I cannot deny that I find a strange romance in enduring harsh conditions through a day of fishing.

I can't really explain what is fun about wading waist-deep in a cold river with 33-degree air and a soaking rain falling all day -- like I did last week on Michigan's Grand River -- or kneeling on the ice on a bitterly cold and windy day when I can barely stand to hold my rod and reel in gloved hands. That fun undeniably exists for me, though, and is part of the reason why I commonly go north during the cold months, when most folks I know are venturing south.

The fishing itself is the main appeal. I don't travel north just to get cold. I could do that without fishing. I suppose enduring the conditions (whether hot or cold) is simply part of the adventure.