I'm on my way out the door for a guide trip.  The water is low, but stained a little.  Basically, it's one of those days where the trout will be condensed in the deeper runs.  As it's that spring wakeup time and lots of bugs are hatching, they'll be eating, big time, throughout most of the day.  And they won't be too choosy, likely biting any nymph with a little flash that attracts their attention.  Maybe some dries in the afternoon.

In other words.  I expect the fishing to be smokin'.

We could probably hit three runs for a couple hours at a time, and pound fish all day.

But we won't.  We're going to march.  Cover water, try many different rigs.  We're going dry fly fishing, just to check things out, whether we see noses poking above the surface or not.  We're going to work on technique--maybe the cast, maybe the drift.  I will not negatively criticize, shout, or reprimand a bad cast all day.  But I'll fix them.  When the big fish break off (and they will), I won't care.  We'll get the next one.  And when it's all done at the end of the day, if someone asks how many fish we caught, I'll have no idea.  Hopefully, that is.  If we catch one or two, I remember.  Seven or more, I lose track.  On purpose.  

You see, I think my job today is to teach people something about fly fishing.  And make sure they're safe.  And see that they have fun.  Sure, fun is about catching fish.

But it's never been about flogging a run to death and counting fish.

So am I your kind of guide or not?  Don't be shy, I can handle the truth.

Deeter

Photo by Tosh Brown

A fly fishing memoir is a tough thing to pull off.  In my mind, "been there, done that," isn't good enough.  "Me and Bob went fishing"... yawn.  "How I learned to solve the mysteries of the universe while I caught trout"... give me a break.

In other words, I often pick up these books, and within 10 pages, I'm usually thinking to myself, "Get real!"

Whoa, wait a minute... there's a thought.  Get real...

That's what Miles Nolte did with his compelling and gritty work in The Alaska Chronicles, published by Departure ($27.50).  The work is a collection of semi-daily reports (initially posted on the message board of The Drake magazine website) from a summer spent guiding in Alaska.  In effect, it became a collective "being here, doing this" experience... a thread that connected over 3,000 online message board readers from Singapore to Germany.

The writing appeals to me by virtue of its honesty and simplicity.  Sure, you get the fish stories, but you also get the client grind, the cold hamburgers, bloodied body, fatigue, bears... essentially the stuff that separates the pretenders from the contenders in the guide world, and ultimately makes the real Alaska experience come alive.  The book is more than worth reading for its candor alone, and the visual images that spin out of that.

For the record, I also find it interesting that the project is a website-to-book phenomenon, the first I know of of this type.  The lesson?  People can argue all they want about media trends, the death of print, whether long-form writing can work online, blog writing being "open mic nite," and all that... what I see here is that substance transcends.  Online, in print... where there is substance there is value.  I have long believed that the real substance in the fly fishing world inevitably lives amongst the guides.  And there is plenty of all that in The Alaska Chronicles.  Check it out.

Deeter

Last week, President Obama eased restrictions on Cuban-Americans visiting Cuba, and indicated a possible willingness to talk with Cuban leader Raul Castro.  Many people think this is a harbinger of a thaw in the more-than-chilly relations between the two countries, which have lasted 50 years.

Word on the fly fishing street is that certain travel operators are already amping up marketing plans to direct American anglers to the vast and bountiful tarpon, bonefish, and permit flats (and bass lakes) in Cuba, which are a cheap short-hop flight from Miami.  Many Canadians I've spoken with say great things about the fishing in Cuba (Canadians and citizens of most other countries can freely travel to that country)... as do a number of Americans I know who have slipped over to Cuba to check out the fishing (check out this F&S story by Bill Heavey on bass fishing in Cuba)... but they wonder aloud if the Cubans are ready to handle an influx of gringo touristas and pescadores.

Would you go to Cuba for a fishing trip if a Castro is still in power?

Part of me is itching to go.  It wouldn't be the first time I fished in a country ruled by a dictator, or where the government leans anti-American.  In fact, sport fishing, I've learned, is one endeavor that inevitably brings people and cultures closer together, regardless of politics.

I'm interested in your thoughts, and especially in feedback from any of you Loonies who have fished Cuba.

Deeter

If ever there were a flyfishing tournament that really measures the grit and skill of a champion... wait... scratch that... those don't exist.   But here is a "tournament" that happens for all the right reasons, namely fun, friendship, and a benefit cause.

The fifth annual Carp Classic, a.k.a. "Carpalooza" is scheduled for May 15 and 16 at the Blackfoot Reservoir (out in the middle of nowhere) in southeastern Idaho.  It's a campout.  You need an Idaho fishing license. The registration fee is $25, and there will be prizes for big fish, a women's division, etc.  Most importantly, this year the event will benefit a college fund.  If you're interested we can get you more details on the event.

In fact, if you're really interested, give us a comment here on the virtues of carp, and flyfishing for carp, and Fly Talk will pay your registration (for the best comment).  You and two pals can be "Team Fly Talk" at Carpalooza.  But we need to know you'll represent us well... boggin' around in the mud and chasing carp.

Deeter