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Written by Bob White
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Sunday, 11 May 2008 22:50 |
 "If you haven't lived it... it won't come out the horn"
- Charlie Parker
Fishing guides make an interesting study in the human character. Most guides get into the profession because of their passion for fishing... and then find that they rarely have any time to fish. Those who guide professionally must learn to enjoy the sport vicariously. Their client's successes become their own... and their failures are often very painful.
During my first year of guiding in Argentina, I'd located a particularly large and difficult brown trout that lived in an enormous recirculating back eddy, under the sweeping and protective limbs of an ancient willow tree. No doubt, my friends who've fished or guided on the Malleo River know the fish of which I speak. This trout became so well known that the guides at San Huberto would only take their very best fishermen to the spot. The popular theory was that it was best not to show it too many flies... and I think that it's safe to say that the guides wanted the fish to be caught by someone they deemed as deserving. I also believe that there was more than just a bit of mental self preservation in their decision not to take beginners to meet the big fish... it's extremely difficult for a guide to stand by, with a smile on his face and positive comments on his lips, while watching something so coveted, feeding with impunity just a few feet beyond his fisherman's best cast. |
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Last Updated ( Sunday, 11 May 2008 23:01 )
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Featured Fly
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Written by Fred Bridge
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Monday, 05 May 2008 21:36 |
 Sculpin Minnow are present in most streams across the country and are a favorite of all predatory fish including trout and smallmouth bass that we fly fishermen love to catch.
There are many sculpin patterns and for a number of years I tied one using the rounded small feathers from a hen saddle for the tail, the dorsal fin, and those oh some prominent pectoral fins. The pattern was very effective as James Moore and John Roach can attest. White River trout gobbled it up. But, the fly was a time consuming pain in the butt to tie. The matched pair of feathers for the tail were easy but tying in a mated pair for the dorsal fin was difficult as was tying in the pectoral fins and then dubbing the body around them. |
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Last Updated ( Monday, 05 May 2008 22:30 )
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Stories
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Written by Len Harris
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Sunday, 04 May 2008 21:32 |
My dad was the ultimate sportsman. He tried every fangled new thing that he read in the classic magazines. (Field & Stream and Outdoor Life). He always read them at the local gas station with the rest of the hunting and fishing fans.
His interests were diverse. You could see him on the stream with a bamboo fly rod in the 50s and 60s before bamboo became chic. Then you might be invited to the Harris Laboratory to help him make a recurve bow in the early 60s.
I always had a birds eye view of all of the new projects. Being the only son, my dad thought I should watch and learn from each one of his ventures into the outdoors. |
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Stories
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Written by Bob & Jake White
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Sunday, 04 May 2008 21:18 |
 As many of you know from last week's essay, my eighteen-year- old son is bound for Alaska after his high school graduation. He'll be working at Bristol Bay Lodge as a jack-of-all-trades and guide trainee.
Today's image was painted for my dear friend, Jack Crossfield. Jack was my best man, when Lisa and I were married at the lodge in Alaska, on a bright summer night, thirteen years ago. Most importantly, he was my teacher and mentor, and a hero to me as a young guide. The title of this oil painting, "Crossing Over", is perhaps the best description I can think of to describe the next four months of my son's life. If he's very lucky... he'll find a friend like Jack to teach him about life while he plays the role of guide.
This is a difficult time of year for high school seniors; a long chapter of childhood will soon come to an end, and the uncertain future as an adult looms ahead. Add to this the warm spring days and a host of other distractions, and it's no wonder that I found Jake hunched over my writing desk late at night, struggling to complete an outline for his creative writing course... an outline that was due in the morning. |
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Last Updated ( Sunday, 11 May 2008 22:58 )
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An Oil Field Runs Through It |
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Stories
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Written by Doug Gilmore
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Wednesday, 30 April 2008 11:18 |
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In my family, there was no clear line between fly fishing and moonshinin'. My daddy, the local bootlegger, taught my brother and I how to fly fish, Baptist style. This made fly casting very difficult, because, as everyone knows, Baptists have no rhythm. This meant that our fly casts would only travel about 10 feet in front of us. But we persevered, mostly because Mamma was a Presbyterian and she had taught us from an early age that everything was predestined. We figured that it was our lot to be sorry fly fishermen. |
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