Outdoors: Cabin Fever in Hinesburg
For a fisherman, particularly a fly fisherman, there's only so much you can do before winter ends and fishing season begins.
Editor’s Note: We are pleased to be starting a new column in The Record on the outdoors: hiking, fishing, canoeing, whatever. Hinesburg resident Philip Werner will guide us through suggested activities and places we can go. Today, he talks about the need for patience in April if you happen to like to fish. If you have any suggestions for him, email him at outdoors@hinesburgrecord.org. His column will appear on the FIRST Monday of every month with some occasional bonus columns in between.
By Philip Werner
The Record Staff
Cabin fever sneaks up on you. One minute you’re fine, warm house, woodstove ticking, snow piled up outside, and the next you’ve started eyeing the door like it owes you money. This year’s brutally cold winter did one thing well: it told you to hunker down, bundle up, and wait it out. But that weird stretch between winter and spring? That’s a whole other animal. It’s not winter, not spring, just muddy, messy, and indecisive.
One morning, you wake to a dusting of snow. Nothing dramatic, just enough to make everything look neat for a little while. You throw on boots, shovel the truck off, and head out with the dog for a stroll. By mid-afternoon, the sun’s doing its thing, and the whole prank melts away. That’s spring teasing Vermont: it gives you a taste, then takes it back. Out on the trail, you can feel it – crunch underfoot in the morning, slush by noon. The creek that was iced over last week is singing again, but it’s not quite in a hurry.
When you get back home, there’s no point grumbling about the weather. You set up your fly-tying vise, decide on a pattern, and start tying flies. It’s a way to relive the joy of the river days ahead. Tying flies is small, useful work. It keeps your hands busy and your head off the “when’s it gonna be warm” loop. You tidy up spools of thread, trim a feather, tighten a knot. No ceremony – just getting something done, so when the rivers finally clear, you won’t be scrambling.
You pull out your maps and trace a loop that will push you a little while letting you get your trail legs back. You plan for mud, because there’s always mud. You know many of the trails and gullies around here, but there are some you still thirst to visit and explore. You chat up your hiking buddy and talk through your route. You laugh about past trips where everything went sideways, and make a mental note to patch up your torn rain jacket before you head out again.
There’s a kind of practical optimism in that in-between time. It’s not grand thinking; it’s making lists, fixing gear and deciding which streams to hit when the weather finally cooperates. Cabin fever turns into useful impatience: you want to be ready, not just restless. You trade complaining for action, because there’s always something you can do that’ll pay off when the season flips.
By evening, the snow’s gone. You pack your fly-tying materials away, fold the map the way you always do, plans simmering in your head. No big proclamations – just knowing you did the small work that makes later days easier and better. That’s how folks around here do it: you wait for spring with your hands busy, your boots muddy, and a stack of maps ready for the first warm stretch.
Philip Werner is the founder of SectionHiker.com, a website about hiking and backpacking, now in its 19th year. He’s hiked and backpacked over 10,000 miles in the U.S. and U.K. and is on the board of directors of the Green Mountain Club. He recently moved to Hinesburg and can’t believe his good fortune to be so close to so many great outdoor recreational opportunities.