mornings were damn cold.
it didn't help that kevin usually left tent door open at 4am. yeah, kevin, i just called you out. i suppose this was the trade-off since he brought enough whiskey for the entire camp/village. anyway, the tents were pretty warm except when we were too drunk to figure out how to re-light the pilot.
getting up every morning was pretty easy knowing that hot breakfast was waiting and that our waders and boots were in the drying tent.
oh yeah, and we could hear fish slapping around in the river within earshot.
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OK, in defense. Mike keeps it at womb-like temps in the tent! I was preventing further dehydration from sweating to death. The booze was already taking its effect. I also found out what too drunk to fish means. Thanks Mike for being a sport and taking a hook for me on that last day.
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