I love fly fishing. Being on the water, in a beautiful place, will just never get old. I count myself fortunate to live where I do and be able to work in such remarkable places.
Being a fly-fishing guide, isn’t saving the world. I don’t wish to overhype its relevance, nor do I believe it to be a magical profession that changes lives. But, besides saving the world, from an asteroid, Bruce Willis style, what does change the world?.
As humans, I think the vast majority of us want to have a positive impact on the world. We want to leave it better than we found it. That’s the reason we continue to develop technology, medicine, and transportation: make our lives better.
At the very least, that’s why we started out to make those things. It certainly can be argued that we may have become victims of our own success. But, that’s a topic for another conversation to be had over a stronger beverage than coffee.
It was the third week of September 2023. We had just arrived at the boat ramp, after a two-day, one-night trip in the Gunnison Gorge. This was summer’s last hoorah; it was warm, and the fishing was tough, on this trip.
As we were unloading the rafts, I look up to see one of my clients, who was an older gentleman, laughing and carrying on with his buddy. As I watched further, I saw them both skipping rocks. Taking turns, one would throw a rock while the other watched and then roles would reverse.
These gentlemen weren’t exactly good at it but boy, were they having a good time. One would throw the rock; both would watch it splash in the water and then they would turn to each other and laugh. The smile from the older gentlemen is printed on my mind to this day.
This special moment served as a beautiful reminder of why I love this job.
I was tired; it was the final stretch of the summer season and I had worked several days in a row and after this trip, I’d have another three-day trip launching the next day for my final trip into the canyon, for the season.
That man’s smile reminded me that the tough fishing didn’t matter, the fatigue from a long season seemed to vanish for a few moments and a refreshing feeling came over me. I was reminded of what’s important about these trips.
What matters is spending time with the right people, sharing those small moments that when taken out of context, mean very little but to those in the moment, they’re precious memories. Memories we hold on to, for when times get tough, they keep us on our feet and moving forward.
Of course, being a fly fishing guide isn’t rocket science. Hell, there’s many out there who can do it drunk and stoned. We provide a service but, is that service limited to catching fish or safely navigating a river?
I think in many ways fly fishing guides are facilitators of making memories. When it boils down to it, fishing is just the excuse to hang out with friends and spend time in beautiful places.
Being in nature is an important thing for us humans. Modern technology and development prevent us from being forced to live among the natural environments. Nowadays we have to make a point to get out and enjoy nature.
But, it is worthwhile to pursue, regardless of the medium you choose to pursue it through. Fly fishing just happens to be one of my mediums. And clearly, there are many others out there who enjoy the medium as much as I do. I get to spend all summer with such folk.
When you share a boat with two other people, you get to know them a bit. Sometimes the conversation turns to politics or another divisive topic, but it always comes back around to the environment you’re in and usually with a phrase along the lines of, “hell, I come out here to get away from all that…”
When I look back on the decision I made to become a guide, I know the choice derived out of the desire to remove the complexities out of life in the modern world and enjoy the simple pleasure that life has to offer.
"Skipping Rocks"
As soon as we’re trusted near a body of water,
we’ll find rocks to throw.
We’ll stay around the water,
until we’re forced to go.
But, before we leave there’s often time:
to be shown the proper way.
We watch and listen closely,
then try to replicate what they say.
The first time never goes well
but, we laugh and smile.
We eventually grow older but always return
to skip rocks for a while.
Little moments that we share with others may not seem like it saves the world or affects it in meaningful way. However, what is the whole but the sum of its parts? If every little splash has a ripple effect, that travels much further than the initial splash, so too do small moments carry their impact much further than the eye can see.