I awoke to the incessant drumming of the rain as it pounded on the big canvas wall tent. I was warm in my sleeping bag and comfortable, and definately not eager to leave it for the rain soaked world outside of it. I reached to my hat by the head of my cot and grabbed the time peice that had once been my watch, until a mule busted the band a few years ago. 5:23 a.m. It still served its purpose, and told me it was time to get up. I looked around the tent and noticed all the others were still asleep, with their heads tucked inside their sleeping bags like mummies. I laid back and stretched, thinking about my day ahead and wishing I was in bed next to my wife. I always miss her most in the quiet mornings. Only four more days until I would see her again.
I could see the sunlight of dawn growing slowly brighter every minute, it wouldn't be long until the sun was up. I quietly got up and put my shoes on. They were still wet. Wonderful. I snuck out side and took a piss. It was cold and I couldn't seem to finish fast enough to get back in to the tent without getting soaked. I snuck in and quietly moved over to the stove and lit the burners under the kettle and the wash pale. In a few minutes I would have coffee and the others would slowly start waking up to help with breakfast, and the busy morning. I love the early morning quiet before the first rush of the day. Cook, do dishes, break down camp, guide fisherman all day, set up, cook dinner, do dishes, go to bed and get ready for it all agian tomorow.
I poured the grounds in the french press, and the instant the hot water mixed with them my nose lit up with the magnificent smell. I gave it a moment and pressed the grounds. My cup got the first fill, then the air pot. I blew gently on my cup and took the first sip. Once again I thought of my wife, it would be my last chance for a couple hours. All at once the rain softened and others started to stir. Time to get going.
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