Field Notes - Dispatch 14 – Trout
Camp, Bolder Mountains, Idaho
Hello Fellow Adventurers!
The idyllic days spent here in the
Idaho Trout Camp (ITC) are quickly diminishing in number. I thought
I had better send out a dispatch before we pull up stakes and return
to our garden cottage in American Falls and the arduous
responsibilities of retirement.
Many of you have requested an update on
this year's annual OLD TROUT'S FLYFISHING CLINIC that I hosted, once
again, here on the North Fork of the Wood River last week. I must
say it came off as a resounding success. All the participants were
astonished at what I had to teach them and many simply could not
believe the insights that this native son of the West conveyed to
them. Some highlights follow...
Bamboo Fly Rods – I demonstrated how
anyone, with a only a Swiss Army knife and a length of bamboo from a
gardening supply shop can fashion a beautiful, heirloom quality, fly
rod that can catch a variety of fish ranging from mountain brookies
to ocean salmon. During my demonstration I also had ample
opportunity to show off my excellent first aide skills due to a few
mishaps I had with the pocket knife.
The Granny Knot – Using various
ropes, shoelaces, and strings I proved that the ubiquitous granny
knot is the only knot any fisherman needs to know. It is without
doubt one of the most useful skills anyone steeped in the methods of
good camp craft possesses. The concluding highlight of this session
evolved several participants tying me to a pine tree using only the
granny knot and, by golly, I was not able to free myself! Proof
positive of my thesis! Unfortunately, the participants were so
excited that they ran off and forgot to untie me. Fortunately, I was
as able to parlay my Swiss Army knife into a clever rescue from an
eight year old who happened to be passing by.
Fly Tying – This was the most
technically demanding session of the clinic. Teaching folks to catch
and then glue flies to small hooks is frustrating and fraught with
difficulties. First, very few of the ladies liked going into the
outhouse to catch the flies--no accounting for the gentler sex's
sensibilities. Secondly, many of the fellows kept squashing the
flies while they attempted to glue the the insect to the hook. This
resulted in a lot of profanity and a stinky mess that no trout would
be fooled by. Further research in teaching methodology is required.
Well, as you can imagine by the end of
the day all the participants were much more knowledgeable about Old
Trout, the master of Western dry-fly fishing, and simply could not
believe the experiences that they had had during the day. A couple
of the comments on the clinic's evaluation cards were very
gratifying, others not so much. But that is to be expected in such
an an academically rigorous program.
MR and I hope you are all well and
exploring your own trails of adventure. I hope to see you soon and
regale you with fascinating fishing stories and other tales of the
Boulder Mountains.
