Pass It On

In a previous post, I referenced the well-known “cycle” an angler goes through in his angling life. That cycle began with the focus being catching a fish and ended with not caring anymore and simply enjoying being out there. Recently, another that stage came to mind, a different stage that I earlier had failed to mention or consider. That stage being, teaching a friend how to fly-fish.

To provide a little background, growing up my dad was a fisherman and naturally wanted me to be a fisherman. From the first day I can remember with him, we were fishing. While the seed and passion was planted in me at a young age, only a small percentage of my buddies growing up had even a small interest in the sport. That said, most of my good buddies growing up fished with me at least once , as it was something that just happened if you hung around in my basement long enough with my dad pushing the sport on you and the rods sitting there waiting to be used. As we got older and finished high school, and went to college, these were just childhood memories, and in my mind something that most of my friends didn’t even remember.

Fast-forward 10 years to 2016. One of those buddies, Jamie, shot me a text saying he would love to come to Montana with my Dad, our buddy Trav, and I. The last time Jamie had had a fly rod in his hands was with my dad, Trav, and I in 2001, the first year my dad had gotten our cabin in the Catskill Mountains on the Delaware River.  That trip in 2001 came to fruition after my dad had asked for us to all come up so we could help him perform some much needed grunt work on the cabin after he had purchased what was a nearly condemned shack at the time. The plan was we would work half the day and fish half the day. That never happened, and we pretty much ditched him from the start with maybe a few hours put in carrying out a bunch of trash that had been left behind by the previous owner. After doing the bare minimum to satisfy what little conscience we had, we hit the river in the backyard. With essentially no fishing, let alone fly fishing experience at the time, Jamie was able to pull out a couple nice fish on the west branch of the Delaware on the first evening we fished, which was impressive considering the river is a technical fishery.

This fond childhood memory came to mind when Jamie had asked to come to Montana. For normal people, saying yes to this request would be easy, but most of you reading that love this sport know too many people on a fishing trip generally is a concern, let alone bringing a novice on a trip where the last thing you want to do is help someone else fish. Despite these natural hesitancies, and in knowing that Jamie was the type to pick things up quickly and a go with the flow dude, I told him to come meet us in Montana on Labor day of 2016. The plan was I’d refresh his memory on how to tie a clinch knot, give him a 5 minute casting refresher, and then let him struggle on his own if things went to hell for him on the water. I was happy to see however, that when that trip came, he struggled for a bit and then seemingly picked up where he left off 15 years ago, simplifying things and doing what needed to be do to catch fish. It was enjoyable to watch and enjoyable to see it come back to him. And for that reason, before we even flew back on that trip, he was locked in for our annual July 2017 trip to Montana, when the fishing is at its best on the Missouri River.

In the weeks leading into the July 2017 trip, I was pumped to get some curious texts from Jamie, who wanted to know how the fishing was and what he should expect. The impression I got was the guy wasn’t just going to experience Montana again and drink beer at the cabin at night. Respect. However, I’ll be honest and say despite his apparent excitement, I was nervous because I was eager to get out there as was my dad, who lives for this shit, and knew the trip was going to get intense, far more intense than what was a relatively relaxed Labor day trip the prior season. I wasn’t sure if Jamie was going to be ok with fishing 15 hours a day starting at 6am and ending at 10-11pm, for 7 days in a row, and whether this trip may turn him off on the sport entirely. Fortunately, it became clear within a couple of days that he was enjoying himself and could hang for the long day, even during the lulls that could easily be deemed boring by a new angler.

Reflecting back, my favorite memories of the July 2017 Montana trip are those of fish that he and my other buddy on the trip caught. One particular memory that stands out most to me is the last day of the trip. The group was tired and the 6am wake up call had my dad and Trav in bed saying they didn’t want to do the morning float. I was no doubt beat to hell too, but wanted to finish strong knowing the morning fishing had been by far the best fishing of the day during this trip. I drank my coffee and did the final call in the cabin to see who was coming- Jamie being the only one that was ready to go. The point isn’t that everyone else was tired- its that Jamie who had just started seriously fly-fishing 6 days ago was up and willing to put on those damp waders from last evening at 6am. That morning, we floated and selectively anchored on the bigger heads we saw rising to tricos, as we not only tried to hunt for the bigger fish, but a big brown in the bow dominated Missouri River to finish off the trip strong. Being just the two of us, there was less chaos in the boat, which allowed us to navigate the river efficiently, and for Jamie to get some shots with a little less pressure. Having three people chomping at the bit in the boat and the pressure that comes with it as the guy that’s up is real. To finish the morning’s drift, we came upon a large pod of rising fish where we anchored and got out to wade. As hoped, Jamie finished strong sticking a nice fish on a small size 20 caddis dry.

After he got that fish, it felt right to call it quits and row in. We got back in time to pack and get to the airport without any headaches. There, we airdropped photos we had all taken into a common album to put together a comprehensive album of the trip. The photos that Jamie took not only summarized the trip well, but also confirmed he was seeing what this sport is all about. The shots he took captured the subtle but enjoyable moments in time that every angler comes to love, and keeps fishing for, which for me confirmed he was understanding why this sport was so much more than simply catching fish. The “more” than catching fish part is easier to show through the pictures themselves than words.