I’m convinced that I’ve discovered the best cup of coffee you can have.
It is the cup of coffee you have when it is the only cup of coffee you can have. Flavors, origins, and brewing techniques are all second-order variables compared to the situation in which you are drinking the coffee.
While some people don’t drink coffee, I’m confident that it is a small percentage of the population. In my experience, this is an even smaller minority within the fly fishing community. But there are a lot of different directions you can go with coffee as you incorporate it into your fly fishing routine. No one says that there is only one right answer, but understanding your options can increase your appreciation. Or maybe at least justify your actions.
We’ll take a look at five cups of coffee, in no particular order:
Fancy
This coffee is hard to fit into a traditional day of fly fishing. This is the sort of experience brewed up for at least $8; a cup of Ethiopian yirgacheffe in a Rube Goldberg-esque system of beakers and vials.
Plus, it will take about 20 minutes and is only served in local, hand crafted pottery. That won’t fit in your cup holder.
Homemade
The most reasonable and economical, but also the least fun. Undoubtedly you can make the best tasting, most inexpensive thermos of coffee at home. But unless you’re really strapped for cash or for time, this cuts out one of the most important angling rituals: stopping to buy coffee.
And the extra energy involved in remembering the travel mug will probably displace recalling to pack some piece of fishing gear. Better to buy coffee at the drive through and remember your wading boots than sip on your home-brew while waiting for the fly shop to open.
Chain
If you’re getting a quick breakfast on the road, then the coffee has to accompany it. You might just be grabbing something passable as you pick up a quick drive-through bite (McDonald’s, Dunkin’, Taco Bell[?]). Or, you could sit down and have an actual person pour coffee into ceramic mug (Bob Evans, Waffle House, The Hawthorne Grill).
But right here you’ll find a dangerous cross-section of value and quality. If you go in and have a seat, Betty will just keep on pouring and pouring and pouring. In that moment, you aren’t even thinking about that fact that you’ll be in chest waders an hour from now.
Gas Station
Maybe you’ve found some golden goose that is tucked off the side of the highway. But chances are you’re stopping because you’ve just got to stop. It is time. You’ve been on the road long enough and something inside of you has to pull over.
What you encounter is somewhere between 10 minutes and 10 hours old. The presentation is subtle. The temperature is hot. The flavor is coffee.
And that is good enough. You’re not here to sip something, swish it around, and then spit it into a vase for scoring. You’re here for something hot that will wake you up. If it tastes good, that’s a bonus.
Camp
This rustic angle used to come across as showing off. These days, there is a lot of appeal in stopping, getting out a little stove, and heating up a kettle of creek water. It takes some work, but it is the only cup of coffee you can have when out in the middle of the woods.
This post is a reworked version of an article I wrote back in May of 2016 called Rise & Shine: Coffee for Fly Fishing. You can read the original here. I cut the length nearly in half and tightened the language up quite a bit. Editing and altering older pieces is an opportunity for me to think about and work on my writing as the project of Casting Across continues on.