Fishing Journal: 5/25/06

A few weeks ago I walked into The Trophy Room, a small fly and gun shop in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, a quaint, historic area where people have lots of money to drop five thousand dollars on a shotgun and six hundred dollars on a fly rod.  It was one of those cold call moments.  I had been there before buying my usual cache of fly tying materials, but it had been a while and although the guys who owned the shop recognized me in a vague way, I was not what you would call a regular customer, especially one with a lot of spare cash in his pocket. 

But no matter both owners, Mike and Gary, are nice enough.  They’re the type of retailers that will offer genuine help even if you look like a poor fishing guide but let you browse without a hassle.  They should probably offer a training on this because it is a quality that is becoming more rare these days. 

As I said it was a cold call situation.  I had my brochures in hand and wanted to see if they would give them out to any would-be customers.  Well, let me sum it up this way, the guys were great, gracious, and humble in a way that made me ask myself what I was nervous about in the first place.

Gary, who heads up the fishing side of the business and I talked for a while about rivers and fish and flies and hatches.  I’d like to say we hit it off pretty well, and he told me they often get inquiries for guides and would put my name out there.  He also told me that they usually go out with a guide first so they can make a recommendation with some knowledge about the guide they are recommending.

“You know,” Gary said, “we like to see the quirkiness of a guide so we can make a good match.”

Now I hadn’t thought of myself as quirky, but I did just get my doctorate and now am working as a fishing guide.  Okay, maybe I’m quirky.

Well after some haggling about schedules and you know having to run a business, Gary and I set a date for some afternoon fishing of the sulfur hatch on the Gunpowder. 

A note about the small fly shop.  Go there and buy some stuff.  The people who run these places are not making money hand over fist.  They are running a small business competing with large companies with greater buying power.  If we don’t patronize these places they’ll become a thing of the past, and as it has happened in the book selling world, Borders will be telling us what to read as the independents slowly close shop.  Okay enough about blind capitalism.

Gary and I met at the upper parking area.  I though we could fish the dam and below for a few hours and then move down to the Bunker Hill area for the hatch.  As it turns out the only part of the river Gary hadn’t fished was the upper area, so we decided to stay there for the day. 

I must confess that I thought we would run out of fishing room before the hatch came off, but it was an unwarranted fear.  You see, Gary is one of those fishermen who will catch the fish if it is rising.  He’ll work the same fish until he lands him and won’t move until he runs out of flies or daylight, which ever comes first.  Guides usually don’t get to fish this way anymore.  I have to fish the whole stream to locate all the lies and see where the fish are and what they’re on.  Gary covers a fish; I cover water.  No problem though because some good technical fishing is good for the soul.

I put Gary just below the dam at the head of the first riffle and wouldn’t you know it a fish came up short to his first drift.  Now I realized I was on a pseudo interview, so I wasn’t fishing but I wasn’t really guiding either.  Gary is a good fisherman who has done some guiding as well, so he didn’t exactly need my help.  The first fish gave me the opportunity to suggest a fly change, and I put a sulfur emerger on the end of his tippet. 

The fish took; Gary landed it; glory shots were taken.

“I don’t mind being on the website.”

“Well that’s good because you just made it there,” I replied.

Gary released the fish and turned to me with his hand out, “Now that’s the start of a great friendship.”

I think so, Gary.

After a few fish Gary insisted I take up my rod and do some fishing.  We took turns fishing through each other’s dirty water but caught a lot a fish no matter who was leading.  We also tested a theory that on the sulfur dry it made no difference between a elk hair post and a turkey quill post, which makes my life a lot easier since the turkey is much easier to tie especially as the flies gets smaller as the weeks of the hatch progress.

The most memorable fish was a healthy thirteen incher landed by Gary in a slow pool at the end of a fifty foot cast.  It was a beautiful fishing moment which I got to watch the whole thing unfold from the head of the pool.  Here’s to fishing together again, Gary.