Today’s story provided by Sandy Jessen
Fly fishermen are notoriously secretive and crafty by nature. Whether it be secret fishing holes or flies, or even both in a cacophony of mystery. Fishing guides are even more so, with a healthy dose of competition added to the mix. Guides will go to great lengths to outwit the fish and each other. Not only do fishermen go to great lengths to conceal their secrets, others will go to great lengths to discover them. There are still a few secret spots out there, but today I’d like to focus on the flies. Many fishermen tie their own flies, a “recipe” uniquely theirs designed to trick the often illusive quarry (the trout) into thinking it is a real bug. Fly tiers search far and wide to discover newer greater materials. On one such occasion, I found some flashy pink material at a craft store, I bought the lot and rushed home to show Brooks what I had found. It was early spring and I thought it could work in the muddy water for worm material. It was a little challenging to use and yet it worked swimmingly well. As Brooks was out with clients having a great day in tough conditions, he took pity on another guide, lets call him Emmett, and gave him a couple of the sacred flies. I would guess Emmett’s season was greatly improved. As the next spring rolled around so did a catalogue to order flies, in it was the not so sacred after all sparkle worm. I would like to say I wasn’t super irritated.
Another year or so later we trekked to a fly company to pick out some of the freshest factory designs. In a little sample box on the counter, there it was staring up at me labeled “Emmett’s Worm.” I tapped Brooks’ elbow and pointed at the offensive item. I felt my ears grow red and realized I was super pissed by Brooks’ little act of kindness, as I could be staring down at Sandy’s worm instead. Every time I think about it, I think about how I’d like to replace his tofu with soap, at the very least.
Another occasion that I only heard about, was an instance where Emmett was again having a rough day. I guess the constant laughter and cheers from the boat ahead had gotten the better of him. He floated just a little behind, observing his more successful competitor. As they stopped off for lunch and to rest their tired reel arms, Emmett slid up to their boat and clipped the flies from their still rigged rods. I could imagine that as they returned full and rested the dismay and confusion that ensued. Wars have started for less.
Sometimes I think fishing can bring out the best in a man, or the worst. In this case I like to refer back to a story I made up for our kids when they were little, about Bob the greedy chicken…he was an ass.