sunfighter
11/25/2012 9:20:00 AMIn his young frisky days,(his 60's) he taught fly fishing on the Whitefeather river in Montana.I never fly fished before and he took me under his wing.
On our first trip out My fly hit everything but the water.He had me wear a rubber band around my wrist and checked the angle I whipped my pole around.After a quick laugh,lunch and a cup of coffee,he went to work on me.
After just a few minutes I managed to throw that fly out about 25 feet and hooked my first wild cutthroat ,after hefting that 4 1/2 inch beauty,I was hooked.
two weeks later I could cast further than bob and caught my first 25 inch dolly vardon out of the hoh river.
I still miss the old fart that got me hooked on such an expensive fishery.He lived an amazing life we all should envy.He was out fishing 2 days before he died.I just hope I'll be able to chew oatmeal if I live so long.Most of all,I miss his constant half truth tales of Montana and his stubborn(aggravating) Norwegian character.
My favorite memory of him was standing outside albertsons waiting for his wife,having a cigarette when an old gal came out of the store waving her hand.Don't you know what those things do to you? she said.He just cooly said,Lady, you see that mountain over there?Yes.she said.I could walk over that son of a b!tch in a day.he replied.
He's right,at 85 we were hiking 11 miles into Deep creek,a pleasant blend of marsh and devils club that made vietnam look like a walk on the beach.
Well thanks for the chance to rant,Just remember,flyfishermen have longer rods(and more sensitive tips).