Early in my life, I knew there was something special to this fly-fishing way of catching fish. For several years, my family and I had spent weekend vacations at Silver Creek Plunge located just north of Garden Valley Idaho. My two brothers and I spent the days following in our father’s footsteps as we fished the small creek through the campground. Back in those days, each of us used a spinning rod with our favorite spinner and sometimes a chunk of worm on the end. Dad taught us how to wade out to the edge of the deeper spots of the creek, make a small cast into the current, let the lure drift just a bit, and then trip the bail on our reel to set the spinner into its signature spinning action. We would just let the lure hang in the current and move the rod back and forth much like you would if you were trolling pop gear behind a boat to cover the entire fishing hole. This method served us young boys well and we managed to catch several fish over the years.
One summer when I was about nine years old dad had somehow acquired an old fly rod and vintage looking reel. I am not sure exactly where this new device came from but most likely the rod was something either mom or dad had picked up from a garage sale. That same summer I remember my Grandparents also accompanied us to Silver Creek Plunge and as dad took off in one direction down the creek Grandpa and I headed up stream to find a few holes to fish. Back then I did not realize that my grandfather loved fishing, but if you talk to my grandmother you would find out that he craved the sport most of his life. I guess the apple does not fall far from the tree and the fishing genome runs rampant in our family. Anyway, grandpa and I spent the sunny afternoon wading the creek, flicking lures into holes, and enjoying one another’s company. I honestly do not remember grandpa fishing that much but I do remember him smiling and cheering me on every time I pulled a trout out of the hole we were fishing. Thinking back to that afternoon I like to think that grandpa held a great amount of pride in knowing that part of his own legacy had been passed down to his grand children.
Grandpa and I fished throughout the afternoon and as we rounded a bend in the creek just on the edge of the campground boundaries we spotted my dad. He was whipping his rod back and forth a few times and I watched as the thick fly line glided through the air above his head. He would then let the line sail out over the water and let it settle on the water. Grandpa and I approached dad and I was hopelessly jealous dad stopped fishing and pulled his catch up from the stringer at his feet. 5 fish dangled from his stringer and he caught them all in just a few hours. Much better than the 3 me and grandpa had caught together in the same amount of time. Dad put the fish back and began casting again towards the lurking shadows deep in the water. It was then that I noticed that dads lure, which was a dry fly, was float on top of the water! This was an all-new concept for me that took me by surprise and wondered how dad had caught all those fish like this. I watched a few times as the line drifted over the fish shaped shadows at a slow pace as the fly slid through the water. On dad’s third or fourth cast the fly swung across the hole like before but before the fly reach the far side I saw a splash and the fly disappeared. Dad’s rod raised in the air and the line went taut. The rod tip started bouncing and dad started to reel in fish number 6 as I stood in amazement at this new method of fishing.
Six fish, dad’s limit was met and we packed up things to go back to camp to clean and cook the fish for dinner. I pondered exactly how dad had caught all those fish for most of the night. To me it seemed easy almost too easy in fact and in a way unfair. I felt jealous of dad and his success and I promised that someday I would learn how to fish that way too. That early summer trip was not the last trip that we took where dad completely cleaned house with his fly-fishing. However, it would take a couple more years and involve another family member before I would begin my own adventures in the art of fly-fishing.
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