Didn't quite get up as early as I'd thought. As soon as was reasonably appropriate (which is frankly a stab in the dark), I introduced the topic of fishing again but was quickly reminded of the current state of my yard. She was right. The lawn was turning into a jungle - a product of our busy schedules and the same distractions that keep me from trout fishing. Mowing, edging, weeding, pruning, weed-wacking, pool cleaning, dog doo-doo shoveling, and a bunch of sweating later, I was ready to go fishing. Too late in the afternoon though for a reasonable trip to the mountains - but when life gives you lemons? make Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches. Oh yeah, I'll explain this later.

I threw the tent, bedroll, sleeping bag, cotton sheet, cooler, and a couple of fly rods in the back seat. I grabbed the necessary paper products as well as a lighter. A few trips to the back of the jeep with armloads of logs completed the preparation. I was getting away. Not far away, but Away. Oops, almost forgot some flies, my vest, some sports sandals, and the little neoprene booties I wear for wet wading; oh yeah, bug dope and polarized glasses. I guess it wasn't as simple as I had thought. I hope that is everything. I can't help the sinking sensation I get every time I go camping - that I am leaving the key ingredient behind. Mental checklist time - yep, got everything. Okay, Away.

This trip I was trying to keep as simple as absolutely possible. Often though camping can be about the food. In fact, my wife is an incredible camp chef who works marvels with aluminum foil packets and hobo pie makers. She puts the George Foreman grill to shame or even the fancy Fire-and-Ice contraption that cools and cooks that my buddy Bruce (the James Bond of camping) uses. Camping with my wife Dawn is truly a culinary experience. Admittedly, I like to dabble in campfire cuisine as well. But, again, this trip was not about the food. I just need to stop to get soda, ice, beef jerky, shelled peanuts, and a couple of cigars and I will be whole. You see, there exists a phenomenon I call the Peanut Butter and Jelly Paradox. Henceforth described as PB&JP. According the PB&JP, EVERYTHING tastes incredible after a day in the outdoors, particularly if it is made AND consumed in the outdoors. If you were out wranglin' doggies for a long day - shoe leather would taste like steak. If you were out in the woods hunting from daylight to early afternoon - crackers and cheese would make your mouth water like crme bruele.

My family discovered the PB&JP a few years ago while on Spring Break. We were spending a day at a Gulf beach frolicking in the surf and catching some rays. Being so engaged in our outdoor activities, we were not cognizant of our growing hunger until late in the afternoon. All we had in the little gutbucket was a few peanut butter jelly sandwiches; it was the only food within a mile. You can't possibly imagine the delectable balance of sweet and nutty, squooshy and crunchy? Try to visualize: moist bread with tender crusts that melt in your mouth, peanut butter that sticks to the roof of your mouth, and slippery jelly that glides over your tongue and past your tonsils. PB&J is a gourmand's dream in the outdoors! PB&J is as good in the great outdoors as prime rib is in the artificial indoors. There you have it - the Paradox.