Deeter: Am I Your Kind of Guide?

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