I've often thought that owning a drift boat would make my angling life complete. Roaming the Housatonic, Delaware and Deerfield I would fish the sweetest spots on these storied waters. I would secretly smirk as I dropped anchor mere yards from eager, rising fish out of reach of those wading the far bank. I would grant boarding privileges to dear friends and angling's royalty and deny the hangers on and pretenders.

Of course the reality of owning a boat, even something as low maintenance as a drift boat, is a whole other matter. And I probably wouldn’t get out all that much. And I'd have to arrange a shuttle. And whacking a keyboard doesn't really prepare you for rowing a boat all day; my buttery smooth hands would get rough and calloused. And I don't have that many friends (though I suspect I would make new ones with two empty seats to fill).

Boatless, I settle for hiring someone else's vessel once or twice each year. The Harrison brothers, Dan and Tom, great guides and good company, roam western Massachusetts and set the bar by which others of their profession are measured. I'm always torn between catching a spring hatch on the Deerfield or suffering through a frigid winter day hunting lunkers on secret waters. I suppose doing both would be the right decision though the calendar yields too few opportunities and the wallet demurs. Yet I persist.