5:30 AM on a Sunday? I guess so. Why do I wake up so early for this? Early bird gets… the fish. How does my brother listen to Bad Religion at 6 AM? Does this stream even have a name? “Maybe yes, maybe no, maybe go…” Hikes from the top down to mountain streams never suck, until it’s time to leave. PBR for breakfast? Dammit, how did this happen? First thought upon stream side arrival: dense foliage makes for tough fly fishing. Are we even going to catch a fish? First thought after first fish: good thing I poured one out for the fish gods. These brookies are feisty. Beetles, Caddis, Sulphurs, and just about anything works when they’re looking up. Bears must love this stream; their feces, it’s everywhere. Will we see a bear? Did I bring my knife? Twenty fish later and I’m starting to get hungry. Another PBR? I want real food. Double brookies con mi hermano? Yes, please. Okay, now it’s time. Let’s go. Wait, we have to hike back up the mountain. Thought: thick foliage makes tough hikes tougher. My legs are sore. I’m sweating, a lot. Deep breathes, baby, deep breathes. At least it’s nice out. 75 and breezy at the top of the mountain. Thought: you can’t feel a breeze with thick foliage. Also, we’re not at the top yet. Damn it’s humid. I’m still sweating. 75 and breezy on the drive home? Please and thank you. This was fun.