Reacting to the decision to postpone the Philadelphia Eagles-Minnesota Vikings football game because of a winter storm, Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell said: “We’ve become a nation of wusses.”

I say he might be right. And thank goodness for fly fishers–particularly steelhead fly fishers–who, along with cops, soldiers, firemen, bull riders, crab fishermen, swamp loggers, and ice road truckers, are the last icons for rugged living in North America today.

From where I sit in the Rocky Mountains, I cannot help but wince when I watch the Northeast get crippled by a foot or two of snow. What’s even more nauseating is the 24-7 cable news cycle revolving around… a foot or two of snow. I certainly don’t like to watch people suffer… like having to sit on an parked airplane for a few hours. Did I say suffer? Sure, being stuck on a plane stinks, but it isn’t suffering.

The Donner Party suffered in a snowstorm.

Maybe we need more “survival” stories and television shows. After all, next time I’m thirsty in the Serengeti, I can thank Bear Grylls for showing me how do get a drink by squeezing an elephant turd. Pretty handy info, if you ask me. Now, if we could only figure out how to drive on I-95 when the flakes start flying.

Seriously… when did people stop bucking up? Are fishers and hunters (and snowboarders and skiers) the only folks in the country who actually look forward to inclement weather?

We need to make a statement. A national “I Am Not A Wuss-I Fish in the Snow” campaign. Anyone willing to join me? (I’ll bring the hot cocoa.)