My eyes Won't Stop Leaking

I am not a pretty crier. When I cry, my face scrunches up, my eyes disappear and my nose runs. It isn't a pretty sight and it is happening now. My dear friend Mike Folden has been in ICU since March with a lung infection. His beautiful soulmate and wife, Tracy has diligently posted an update for all who love him everyday in the evening. Last night she didn't post and I had a knot in my stomach until my phone dinged at midnight. My stomach was right- Mike had passed at 9:55. My heart is broken and my eyes won't stop leaking.

When I first started fly fishing, I won 2- Echo 5 weights and a voucher for a free intro to fly fishing class at a random auction I went to. I came home and called to sign up for the class and nervously went. This is where I met Mike. Mike was the epitome of the heart of fly fishing. He was knowledgeable, funny and kind. We have fished so many times together since that class. Mike is the first person to take me shad fishing on the American and the Yuba. He has given me casting lessons and drift boat rowing lessons. I went to Montana with him this last summer and spent a week with him at his family's lodge on the Klamath this last fall. He wasn't just my guide or my teacher, he became my dear friend. He shared not just his knowledge, but himself and his life story. I heard stories about his devotion to his beautiful wife, Tracy long before I met her in Montana. He spoke of meeting her as a young teenager and falling in love with her from that moment. I met Tracy in Montana and instantly understood his love and devotion for her and envied their amazing relationship. It was amazing to see soulmates loving each other, fishing together, as much in love today as he described when they were young. My heart is broken for beautiful Tracy. I can't imagine Mike without her or her without Mike. My eyes won't stop leaking.

Several years ago when I got sick and survived by some unknown miracle, I remember the first time I saw Mike after I was well enough to get out. He saw me from across the room and quickly came towards me and gave me the biggest hug. He told me how glad he was to see me and that we needed to go fishing. He convinced me to commit to going on the trips we had talked about. He even changed the dates of the available trips to fit my work schedule. He told me I had more fishing to do and that we needed to fish together. I am so glad I went to Montana with him and fished his heritage waters on the Klamath with him- even when I really couldn't afford it. I would give anything to see him, run across the room and hug him and go fishing with him again. I can't believe I won't have the chance. I miss my friend so much already. My eyes won't stop leaking...

Every year since I started fly fishing I have always waited with anticipation for our local river to open after it is closed for spawning season. I miss the river like I miss a dear friend when they are gone from my life. I mark the days on the calendar and go back to my old friend as soon as I legally can. This year I thought I was going to have to wait longer because of life and its complexities. Then one day on my calendar shifted left and I was able to go back to the place I love- the place I learned to fly fish, the place that heals my heart and fills my soul. For me, stepping in the water is like breathing deeply. On this day, the smells filled my nose and lungs. I smelled the warmth of the foliage with touches of sage and coriander. Birds darted through the air. Two hummingbirds danced across my vision into a nearby tree. The treetops danced in the wind. I swear they looked like paintbrushes spreading more and more blue into the sky. Then there was the water. The flows on the river were actually decent and the sound of the current provided a background for the songs of the birds in the sky. The water was perfectly cold and my feet quickly shifted from warm to cold to a comfortable numbness. While my legs and feet were alive with the coldness, my shoulders were warmed by the sunshine. I let my hand drop to the water's surface and my fingers bridged the gap between the coldness of the water and the warmth of the air. The noise of footsteps drew my attention to the bank as a deer walked up towards me. As she saw me, she stopped and took a long look at me standing in the water and then turned and slowly walked away. All of this was just in the first few minutes in the water. I hadn't even wet a line yet. I hadn't even thought about fishing yet. I was just there, standing in my river, breathing in and out. I felt at home and completely at peace.  

I took a few more steps and unhooked my fly from its keeper. I took a few more steps and let some line out. I took another deep breath and made my first cast. I was home...

I get to answer emails that come to the club website. This means that I get to respond to some interesting inquiries. Sometimes it is complaints and criticisms. I get to know club members. Sometimes I get to connect people who are fishing in similar waters. I learn a ton about where people are fishing, how it is going and I love it (except for the criticisms)!

Well, a few months ago we received an email looking for anglers to participate in a fish study on the Stanislaus River near Oakdale. I was super excited about this. I can actually catch fish in a certain section of the river there and I was excited to potentially contribute to a study on a river I love. Then another informational email came and it said that we would be fishing a section I have fished four times... but I have never caught a fish there. I have never gotten a bump there. I decided to opt out and leave the limited angler space to someone who could actually contribute to the study, 

Fast forward to last week and the club received an all-call from the study organizer that there had been a last minute cancellation and they really needed a 4th angler. I replied that if no one responded, I would participate. The night before, another email arrived saying I was it and to be at the time and place listed in the flier. I kind of panicked!

I feel pressure to fish well when I am around others. I feel pressure as a woman to not be needy on the water. I felt pressure to not be an anchor on the study. I feel pressure to represent DFF too. I feel a lot of pressure and I put it all on myself. I was talking to a dear friend Saturday night about how I was anxious about fishing the next morning and, in his blunt and loving honesty, he told me to chill out. He asked me why I fish and I told him because I love being on the water. Fishing relaxes me and connects me to myself and my world. He told me to think about that the next morning. To love being on the water and share that with whoever I was to fish with. He is kind of a genius. 

I got ready that night. Hopped in my car in the morning and grabbed a coffee and headed to the meet up spot. When I got there, I met 3 of the nicest anglers and 2 young and enthusiastic wildlife biologists. We rowed and fished and I caught fish! I was so relieved to land the first fish of the day! It was like someone opened the pressure valve and the rest of the day was spent learning from the other anglers, enjoying the day and catching some more fish. It was a blast.

I am so grateful to my good buddy for reminding me why I fish. I am grateful that I went on the study as an angler. I am really grateful that I caught some fish! I am hoping that the contributions of the anglers will help us keep this amazing river and its fish healthy for years to come!

I suck at stillwater fishing. I never really understand where fish are in lakes. I mean, in a river there are clues. Foam is home. Eddies filled with food. Rocks and structures provide breaks. The choppy surface of riffles and runs provide cover and food just rolling down a conveyor belt. I may not always catch fish on a river, but I have some clue where they might be. This is not true on a lake. Should I fish shallows or try to go deep? How deep should I fish? Should I stay close to shore or move away from the shore. It is all some great unknown. Add to that the fact that I love standing in a creek or river and I just haven't put my mind and efforts into stillwater fishing. I believe this is the reason why I hadn't caught a fish at White Pines in the last five One Fly Contests.

White Pines is a heavily planted lake. You can go most days around the planting of the trout and find kids and families catching fish pretty easily. I, on the other hand, have fished there every year since I joined the club and have walked away each time skunked. My fellow fishermen have been kind and generous with advice. Many have lent me their gear to try and help me along. I have received flies. I have been allowed to shadow more experienced anglers. I had even gotten a nibble or two but I had not gotten one in the net.

Fast forward to this last Saturday. This last Saturday was our first One Fly Contest since Harvey Hamlow passed away. Harvey was always a figure at the One Fly Contest. Not only because he was a skilled stillwater angler, but because he was also so very kind and generous with his time and advice. Harvey was the first one to smile and greet you. He would offer advice and take newer anglers under his wing on and off the water. Harvey has given me pieces of advice year after year, bringing me closer to success each time. 

I felt like this year was a bit of an homage to Harvey. Every member of our club was kind and helpful to everyone on the water. First timers were catching fish and the more experienced were catching a lot of fish. The comradery was thick and everyone was having a great time. It was as if each of us was taking on a little of Harvey's example by reaching out to each other on the water with an encouraging word, a bit of advice and a helpful hint.

I know that this year it finally came together for me. I caught fish and it wasn;t just one. I caught 8 trout and more than that many panfish. I had a blast like I hadn't enjoyed fishing White Pines before. While my fishing drought ended and I was really pleased with that, I was even more pleased with watching Harvey's spirit of support and giving live on in the culture of the club. I hope I find the same next year and get that sense that Harvey is still near to us on the water and maybe catch a few fish while I am at it too... Harvey would sure smile at that!

When I started fly fishing, a constant piece of advice I received was to go fishing with someone who knew more than me so I could learn from them. Well, that was sure easy since I knew absolutely nothing five years ago!  I was very lucky and got to fish with amazingly talented anglers who were kind and generous with their time. My skills have grown as my passion for fly fishing has continued to be stoked by time on the water. There are even times when I am fishing with someone who is just starting on their fly fishing adventure and I am somehow the person that "knows a little more" on the adventure. While that still freaks me out most days, I have found that the advise I was given when I started doesn't necessarily apply to me anymore. 

It doesn't apply to me anymore- not because I have become some great angler- but rather because I have become so consumed by fishing that I have forgotten what it is like to step into the water with fresh eyes. For example, I was fishing the other day with a friend and an eagle flew over us on the lake. She let out an excited cry and shouted, pointing to the eagle as he circled us and flew low over our position. As the eagle silently rose and landed in a tree, I realized that if she hadn't alerted me to the eagle, I would have missed it because I was so focused on the water. It was that moment that I realized that there was a ton of stuff that I could learn from my friend- even though she was just scratching the surface of her fly fishing knowledge. 

Fishing partners can be wonderful additions to one's life and experiences on the water. I don't worry about the skill level of my fishing buddies. I know that I will always learn something when  we fish together- whether it is about them, myself, the river or the art of fly fishing. All I have to do is spend time with my favorite people doing my favorite thing.

I cannot tell you how excited I am for my birthday this year. Last year my birthday was a big one and COVID resulted in the cancellation of a big party celebrating the completion of my doctorate and turning 50. I turned 50 quietly, with phone calls from loved ones and social media well wishes. The calmness of the day amidst the uncertainty of the early days of COVID lockdowns was actually comforting and my young son did wonderful things throughout the day to make sure I felt special. I had candles lit and "Happy Birthday" sung to me at every meal. Handmade gifts and drawings spread throughout the house. It was wonderfully thoughtful and meaningful and appreciated. Here, a year later, I had plans to fish, eat at my favorite restaurant, fish, and order a special cake and spend time with my son. I lined up my favorite guide, ordered the cake, and picked out items on the menu to order. 

The first bump was when my guide had to cancel. I am not going to lie. I was bummed. I regrouped and made another call to another awesome guide and lined up the day. I then realized my second favorite restaurant was on the way to my new destination. Plan B was in effect. The birthday celebration was ready. Just a week to go and the celebration that was cancelled last year was going to happen this year. I was sure of it- until I went jogging.

I have been feeling really good. I have been exercising and feeling strong. The workout for the day called for 10- 100 meter sprints and I was on number 5 and feeling great. That was until my right knee popped and I couldn't take a step. I ended up in the ER barely moving. The doctor laughed when I asked if I would be able to walk in a week. He said I would be lucky to be driving in a month. Birthday celebration cancelled again. Such is life.

I have a feeling that I will be celebrating quietly at home with my son- probably pretty similarly to last year. That is OK with me. My life is pretty phenomenal on a daily basis and these little bumps remind me to be grateful for everyday- not just once a year. I may try to make plans for my birthday again next year. I am not going to get too excited about the plans though. Life has a way of changing even the best laid plans!

We are so lucky that our club is absolutely filled with amazing and generous people with deep and full fly fishing and life experiences. This is an unexpected treasure to joining Delta Fly Fishers. When I joined the club, I hoped to learn to fly fish. Here I am, almost 6 years later, and I know more about myself, my environment, my fishing friends than I know about angling itself and this is a good thing. I have grown to understand how very different people with a similar focus can rally resources for a common good. I have seen bonds formed through fishing. Just this last Friday, I saw again the generosity of individuals willing to hand down a lifetime of learning without concern for reimbursement. Nancy and I went to Leo's to get a lesson in making his balsa poppers. Leo helped us create our own jigs and walked us through a variety of styles. He shared secrets and supported our efforts. We immediately went to the craft store and bought the supplies needed to create our own flies. 

We invested in the items full well knowing that our flies would pale in comparison to Leo's. Leo has made thousands of these flies. He has fished them for years and has handed out almost all of them to others for the only price of hearing feedback on their effectiveness. Leo has put  countless resources of time, money and supplies and he literally hands them out for free. Leo could have sold his poppers. People would have paid him well for them. Rather, he chooses to hand them out in the hopes that the lucky recipient will have their own adventures with his designs. I know I have had amazing days having bass blow up on his patterns and Leo and I often talk about these days while he teaches me how to create these flies. 

What am I going to do with the flies I make? I mean, I have so many that Leo has given me I really don't need more. I also know the learning curve is pretty steep and the ones I am making now may not be good enough to even tie on and fish. But, I know that this knowledge is Leo's legacy and because I value Leo and all he has done for so many, I am more than willing to put forth the effort to try and master the skills as an homage to him and Delta Fly Fishers. Each of us fishes for our own reasons. But, in coming together and sharing all that is fly fishing, we carry on the traditions, literally from those that started this fly fishing club, well into the future. Maybe one day, if I work hard enough and fish hard enough, I can show someone how to make a jig and create balsa poppers and share the stories of fishing with my friend Leo when the bass hammered the fly just like the one I am showing them to make. I think being able to pass that experience on to someone else would make me as rich as Leo is- all from never charging a dime for any of the thousands of flies he has given away.

I love fishing. I love fishing by myself. I love fishing with others. I love fishing with men and I love fishing with women. Why? Because fly fishing seems to attract the most amazing people. It is a pretty good bet that if you go fly fishing with anyone, you will find a thoughtful person with wonderful tales of grand adventures. I know that has largely been my experience. When I go fishing with more than one person, I love to see the dynamics of the social interactions between myself and my fishmates. A prime example is two friends that I have had the pleasure of fishing with on the Trinity River recently- Scott and Big Tom.

These two guys have been friends and fellow anglers for some time. They guide and fish the same waters and some different waters. I love fishing with them. They are smart, kind, funny and intuitive. They also catch a lot of fish. I like that because when I am with them, I have the chance to catch fish too. However, the fun we have between fish is equally as fun as the fish. These guys are sharp witted and sometimes mercilessly engage in verbal banter with each other. It is fun but sometimes, as I have seen men interact with each other, it can be harsh from a woman's perspective. They love it and I have grown to understand it and enjoy it. I became acutely aware of the strong bonds beneath the banter on our recent trip. 

My dear friend, Scott always jokes about landing a 30 inch steelhead on the Trinity. Every time we fish there, he says, "Today s the day I am going to catch my 30 incher!" We tease him mercilessly when he catches small fish (or no fish). When the catch is small, we laugh and say better measure that one- it could be the one! He takes it all in good measure and dishes out as good as he gets. The banter adds a wonderful flavor to the day. We laugh. We fish. We laugh some more. It makes for a really fun day.

When Scott hooked into a big fish this last Tuesday, we all held our breath. I could see the tension in Big Tom's posture as he watched Scott fight this fish and held the net in a ready position.  The fish ran and ran. Scott fought it well and kept it from rushing into the current and kept it from a large snag that had provided the escape for a fish just prior to this one. The fish flashed in the water. We could tell it was big and beautiful. The color was deep. The fish disappeared into the river again and the fight was on. This went on for a while and, especially when the fish saw the net, he fought hard until he finally grew tired enough to stay at the surface long enough for Big Tom to slip the net under him. 

This was the moment that I got a glimpse of the bond between these two men. To say that Big Tom was happy for Scott is an understatement. These two virtually exploded with joy. Big Tom was so happy for Scott and Scott was so happy with the fish. It measured a cool 29 inches. We set up a picture while the fish chilled in the net. Once we got a ton of pictures of Scott with the fish, Big Tom asked if he could take a picture with Scott and the fish. They were just so darn happy and proud of each other. It was a moment that brought tears to my eyes seeing the bond between anglers come to fruition with the landing of this amazing steelhead. 

That moment, when I took that picture, I really understood the power of the fly fishing community. We tease each other. We laugh together. We explore waters. Sometimes we even catch fish. But, when we do these things together, we forge beautiful friendships and support each other in these amazing experiences. I am so very grateful to have been present on this day, with these two amazing people and this wonderful fish!

I am not sure what it is but there are a lot of Mikes in my fly fishing world. I guess there are a lot of Mikes in life in general so I probably shouldn't be surprised by this. I somehow have a bunch of friends that are named Mike that are my fishing buddies. My first fly fishing class was with Mike Folden who has been an amazing friend and angler since that day. My friend that we call "Taco Mike" because he owned a restaurant that we ate about a million delicious tacos at is one of my favorite people to fish local rivers with. Mike Mitchell is the first person to take me fishing on the Lower Sac. That was an epic day. If I open the contacts on my phone and type "Mi", a bunch of Mikes pop up and just about all of them are amazing fishing buddies of mine.

I just got a text from one of my friend Mike's wife. It was strange because it was on his phone. She said he is sick- really sick. He is in ICU. He is intubated. He is my dear friend and he is holding on to his existence at this very moment. My heart is on hold. I am anxious to hear of him improving but scared to hear anything for fear it is bad news. Mike has been a treasured friend and one of the most supportive angling friends I have ever had. I remember the first time I met him. His dad had just died a few weeks earlier. He shared his loss and that the best way he felt to honor his father was to share fly fishing with me and others. His father and grandfather had brought him up angling. His passion was a direct reflection of his family's heritage. He willingly shared that heritage with me and so many others over the past 6 years.

Mike and I have fished locally aa well as in beautiful distant places like Montana. I have fished with him and my other fishing friends. I have fished with him and his wife. I have broken bread with him. I have texted him questions about angling late into the night. I have gotten his drift boat stuck on rocks in the middle of the American River. I treasure everything about our friendship and all the wonderful experiences he has brought to my life.

I am sitting here praying for his recovery. I am eager to continue sharing his angling heritage with him. His illness reminds me to value the amazing people I am lucky enough to have in my life. It reminds me to value the moments I have on and off the water. Fishing has brought so many wonderful people into my life and for that I am so grateful. People come in and out of your life, but once you have fished with someone, there is a connection of common caring that is strong and feels unbreakable. I am looking forward to telling Mike this- hopefully soon as he makes his way through this illness we can sit on the water somewhere, share a conversation about how much he means to me and catch a few fish. I would give just about anything to have that happen again!

I fish every week. Sometimes I am not sure what drives me to the water. All I know is that I feel compelled to go. I generally fish on Sundays but this last week I had to take a day off from work and figured out a way to go fishing early before the demands of the day took over. I was floating in my float tube on the water, having an amazing fishing day. Then I felt it. The amazing feeling that drives me to fish every week. A little smile crept onto my face. My shoulders relaxed. A sense of contentment just overwhelmed me. I gently kicked my flippered feet and was just present in the moment. 

You hear people talk about living in the moment all the time. People share advice about slowing down, not worrying about the future or mulling over the past. Just breath and feel that very moment. I took a deep breath. The smells of the water, fish on my hands, moist foliage filled my nose and lungs. I leaned my head back and gazed up at the clouds and blue sky. At that moment, I fully understood why I am drawn to go fishing every week. Going fishing feeds my soul like an illicit drug. Only instead of disconnecting me from reality, the experience strips my existence into its most fundamental form. It connects me to my environment and, quite frankly, to myself. I never feel more powerful, beautiful and capable than I do when I go fishing and it has nothing to do with catching fish. It has everything to do with being my unencumbered self, fully feeling and experiencing my own existence.

As I came to this realization, I lifted my foot up out of the water and saw my own reflection in the water covered surface of the black flipper. The sight of myself in the reflection made my smile deepen and I quickly snapped this strange selfie. Even though I have pictures of beautiful fish I caught this day, I think this picture may prove to be my favorite of the day. It reminds me of why I go fishing and the realization that it has nothing to do with catching fish.

My bucket list is pretty long- I am hoping to have time to get to all that I have listed on it. There is seeing the Northern Lights in person. Living in a tiny house. Staying at a fishing lodge. Fishing about 50 different rivers. I list each river twice. The first listing on my bucket list is to fish the specific river. The second is to catch a fish on that river. I was able to go and fish at a bucket list river today. Today I got to fish the Trinity. The Trinity was on my bucket list (twice) but I didn't think it would be the next river I crossed off that list. I have been making plans to fish the Feather, the Yuba and a few other local rivers first. But, as fate would have it, a quick text from a friend turned into a phone call turned into an impromptu fishing trip north. One day on the Lower Sac and the next on the Trinity. Our day on the Lower Sac was epic. We actually lost count of how many fish we caught. We started the next morning on the Trinity early and we were on the first boat on the water. I stepped into the water and onto the boat. As I picked up a rod and made my first cast, I mentally crossed the first "Fish the Trinity" off of my bucket list. We seemed to have the river to ourselves and set to fishing. It was a blast to fish with our amazing guide and my gifted angler friend. When I first started fishing out of drift boats, the day would often involve tangles and snags. Guides would have to anchor up and carefully untangle rat's nests that I had made. This day was different. The casting was cleaner. We did hang up on the bottom occasionally but that just meant we were in the fishing zone. One time I actually hooked a stonefly on my hook and we joked about bait fishing by accident. There were a few times that we cast a little too close to the bank and get tangled in a tree. Our guide would back row and we would rescue the flies and get back to fishing. Our guide would assure us that it was better to "Send it to Church" than to hold back on our efforts. He said that God would sort it out when it got where it was going. 

Fishing- especially fishing hard involves some risk. Getting on the bottom runs the risk of getting hung up but that is where the fish can be found. Casting in "the zone" can put your hooks dangerously close to trees and brush. Sometimes you just have to send it to church- the river and the fish will decide what to do with it. I found out today that a few trees decided I took too large of a risk and a few rocks and submerged logs kept some flies. But I also found a few fish that sorted my efforts differently- and I was able to cross my second listing on my bucket list for this river a few times as I caught some fish on the Trinity today!

As a female angler, I feel that I joined fly fishing at the beginning of an incredible movement in support of women anglers. Orvis started its 50/50 on the water while I was learning to fish. Seeing a woman at the club meetings was a joy. DFF had about 5 women members when I joined. Now we have over a dozen just a few years later. We would always greet and support each other at the meetings and on the water but DFF is super special because I have always felt supported as an angler. But, seeing a woman on the water was noteworthy due to its rarity. I often wondered if seeing another woman angler would become so commonplace that I would fail to note the angler's gender. Then something super cool happened today...

I was looking for the perfect gift for an angler in my life. With Christmas fast approaching, I was engaged in furious google searches for the perfect gift. If you know me at all, you know I love giving gifts. In fact, I love giving the perfect gifts. I will spend crazy amounts of time searching for, making or procuring the perfect gift for someone in my life. This day, my search for the perfect gift was a real struggle. I found something like what I was looking for but not exactly what I was looking for. Then I found exactly what I was looking for but it was not available. Then I watched about 18 YouTube videos about the topic. I had an idea but it needed some fine tuning. When I looked up about 90 minutes later, I decided to call Mad River Outfitters who had created several of the videos I watched.

I called and spoke to a highly knowledgeable worker at the shop. We talked back and forth about options, anticipated arrival dates, Christmas ordering deadlines and fly fishing in general. It was a great interaction with someone who was clearly informed and passionate about fly fishing. Needless to say, I dig their shop based upon that solitary conversation with its employee's knowledge and level of customer service.

It was only after I hung up that I realized my conversation partner was also a woman. I had initially failed to note the gender of the voice as I was so wrapped up in the conversation. She was awesome and she was not awesome because she was female. She was just plain awesome. I love that. Fly fishing passion should transcend characteristics like gender, weight, race and I believe it does with most people. This individual was a great example of just plain fly fishing awesomeness. When I started fishing, the odds of a woman calling a shop and speaking to a woman would have been pretty rare. I love that just a few years later, it feels so natural that it is barely even noteworthy. Here is to the day when I see a woman on the water and think- "Wow- there's a great angler." instead of "Wow- there is another woman angler." If this morning's phone conversation is any indication, it may be closer than we think!

Life is funny. In some ways it just repeats itself over and over until a period is finally put at the end of a sentence. The simple act of putting a final punctuation on something can lift a great weight off of one's shoulders. So many things can be left unsaid once that period is written. Life can shift to a new trajectory when the soul is unencumbered by anchors of the past. 

As a period has been put on a long, beautiful and torturous sentence in my life, I am curious to see how it impacts my memories and thoughts. So often when I am on the water, my mind goes back to times of joy and sorrow. I can find myself laughing and smiling at the past. I can also break into tears remembering broken promises and sadness. The banks of the river always seem to hold me close but never hold me back from feeling these feelings fully and deeply. There is nothing more healing than standing in the current, feeling the water wash by my legs and hands with a cleansing hope and acceptance. The ability to work through things on the water is one of the reasons I love fishing alone. I feel most alive alone in the river. I feel my feelings so clearly and experience my memories so vividly. 

I am eager to get on the water and see how this newly added punctuation will treat my memories. I wonder if I will smile more and cry less or the opposite. All I know is that when I am on the water, I get closer and closer to loving exactly where I am at in my life. I am eager to write the next sentences in my story and I am equally eager to flesh through the new and old lines of the story of my life while standing in a river...

That is the perfect word to describe how I feel when I fish- joyful. I was able to go fishing on a new waterway with a new friend who guided me to fishing success. I learned so much from him and eagerly thought of when and where I could apply what I had learned on other waters. I had a realization that this was the first time for me that I looked at a new waterway through the lens of my previous experiences on rivers. So many times over my fishing years, I would walk up to new waters and stare with a blank look at the unfamiliar water- unsure of how and where to start. 

Today, I saw the beautiful structure of the river. Runs, riffles, deep pockets and bends all beckoned to me to place my fly in them. I recognized my familiar waters in this unfamiliar river. This was huge for me... I fished with a comfort that I normally only feel on my favorite home waters. 

Now I don't assume that I can walk up to any waterway and catch fish now that I have had this realization. However, I do feel that I have the confidence now to walk up to an unfamiliar water and try to fish it. That the "deer in the headlights" look that I get when I freeze in overthinking what I should do is hopefully a thing of the past. I now see structure and familiar rhythms of the river where before I was too overwhelmed to move. 

There is only one way to see if my new-found confidence is established. I need to find some new waters and walk up to the bank. Only then will I know if I see the river and grin in anticipation or freeze like a deer in front of an oncoming car!

there is nothing like homewaters. I know I have written numerous times about this waterway. Each time I hope I convey how special it is and how it makes me feel every time I get to venture there. I write about it often because I get to go there often. In fact, I was corresponding with a dear angling friend and he shared this amazing list of places he has and is going to fish. It reads like an angler's dream. I shared with him that I am feeling as though my son is reaching an age where I am not eager to leave him for length of time. He is getting onto the teenage years and time seems to be flying. I don't want to miss a moment and I also don't want him to feel like he isn't my number one priority. As I shared this realization with my friend, I wrote that I would be completely satisfied if I could only fish this one waterway for the rest of my angling days. This place is that special to me.Today I was able to go there- to my favorite place in the entire world. It is a small, local river. Many club members will know what river I am talking about immediately. Some will not. I refuse to advertise it's name on social media. It is where I learned to fly fish rivers. It is close to my home. Most of the time I am the only one there. It has fish and I love it there. Being there feeds my soul.

Everytime I drive to this spot, my level of relaxation increases. As each landmark comes into view and the familiar bends in the road arrive in front of me and disappear behind me, I am mixed with anticipation and impending calmness. When I finally get to the river, a sense of returning home permeates my being. Stepping into the water is like breathing a sigh of relief. I find myself drawn to this place when my life is stressful as well as when it is blissful. It is like my beacon home. I never tire of being there. It fills my soul and washes me clean.

It is my hope that everyone has something in their life that serves them as this river serves me. Someplace or someone that grounds and elevates them at the same time. A place of such familiarity that they never tire of being in its presence. 

I was introduced to spey casting this last year. I took a lesson and then put my blooming skill to work on the Klamath fishing for steelhead. It just goes to show that just when you think you are gaining mastery of fly fishing, you realize that you have just scratched the surface. So, in effort to work on my spey casting skills, I took a small fiberglass spey rod out to my favorite local river to throw a few casts. I should probably mention that this river is a pretty small river. I usually fish it easily with an 8 foot 4 weight rod. However, there is a section that is wider and flat- not really an area that I would normally fish but something that would be good for practicing my cast. 

I started casting and worked on my technique. As I ironed out some problems, the length of my cast increased. I went from just casting the shooting head to feeding line until I was easily casting 20 more feet than when I began. Feeling good about my fledgling skills, I moved into an area that I knew held fish.

I began casting, marvelling at the distance I was able to cast. I was casting into areas that I had never been able to reach before. However, I wasn’t catching fish. I wasn’t even getting bumps. This was strange as this place was one of my go-to fish catching spots. I thought for sure that a longer cast would put me in places to catch fish I just couldn’t reach otherwise.

Just then, I flubbed my cast. It fell short of any cast I had done- by quite a bit. And then I felt it- a fish bumped the fly. I cast short again and felt another fish. Again and again this happened. In my effort to cast farther and force that technique into this spot on the river, I had spent all of my time fishing over the fish. While I was out there to work on a skill, I wasn’t disappointed. My spey cast was better than when I had started that day. But, it was a good reminder to myself that farther isn’t always better. Casting for distance has its place. But, often we are tempted to display our casting skills and this results in missing opportunities to catch fish that are literally right in front of us. I know for me, I learned more than how to spey cast a little better that day- I was reminded that an effective angler adapts to the river and looks close before looking far. It is funny how the river will teach us these skills if we just let it…

I am always a little jealous of my son around this time of year. Every year to celebrate his adoption day, I give him a Lego advent calendar. As the gift that keeps on giving, starting December 1st, he opens a door on the box and finds a little Lego treat every day. Sometimes a little figure. Sometimes a small item to build. The advent calendars have a theme. Some years it is the holidays. Some years it is Star Wars. He loves it and looks forward to it every year. 

My sister in law did a grown up version for my brother. She made a box with 25 spots and in each one she put a beer. He got a different beer each day for the month of December. I am sure he appreciated this as he works for UPS and the month of December is soul-crushingly intense and busy there.

I was looking for a gift for a fly fishing friend and thought that a fly fishing themed advent calendar would be a fun item. Not finding anything like it online, I tried my hand at making one. I downloaded a do-it-yourself advent calendar pattern and attached a fly behind each door. After some problem solving to keep the flies from falling or being crushed, I was pretty happy with the outcome. I ended up making a few for anglers in my life. I found it a little embarrassing that I could put together 5 advent calendars containing 25 flies each without putting a dent into my fly collection… I may have a problem!

I can hardly wait for Thanksgiving to hand them out. I hope that the recipients open a door each day with the anticipation similar to my son. I hope the flies they find under the doors get fished and catch fish for them. I can’t think of a better present this holiday season!

When I first began fishing, I used to hate the fact that I had to take put my rod together, run the line and build my rig. I equally dreaded taking apart my rod, take off the reel and put everything in its place. I envied the gear fishermen who grabbed their rods and set off to fishing so quickly and threw their short little rods into their backseat and headed off after fishing. I would look for some way to avoid this preparation ritual every time I fished. I would feed my flies through the ferrules in my rod to avoid taking them off of the line. I would try to take my rod apart without taking the line off. Veteran fly fishermen would laugh at me and tell me that I was going to break my rod because of my laziness. They were right. It wasn’t long before I snapped the tip off of my favorite rod for this very reason.

I am sure part of this was a personal worry that I wouldn’t be able to replicate my set ups with any accuracy as a newer angler. I also tie terrible knots and, to this day, I still don’t tie knots I trust fully. Getting ready to fish used to be torture to me. It was something that I rushed through in my eagerness to step into the water. 

As I got ready to fish the other day, I realized that the preparation for fishing has become a treasured ritual for me. It has shifted from a necessary torture to a calming and focusing process that helps me set my mind for my time on the water. The process of putting my rod together, setting the reel and feeding my line serve as steps in setting up my gear for success. I no longer wonder if my rig is set up correctly as I now have more trust in my ability to adjust depth style and flies on the water. Now, when I complete the ritual of preparation that is fly fishing, I am ready to fish. And when I take everything apart at the end of my fishing day, it puts the perfect seal on my experience. Everything goes in its place. As I take the flies off, I think about the choices I made during fishing. As I take the line and reel off, I think about casting and drifts. As I take my rod apart, I think about how lucky I am to get to fly fish. I jot my experience in my journal. I also start to think about when I can next go fishing.

The steps of preparation have become a valued process of focusing and decompression for me. It has shifted as I have spent time on the water and embraced the challenges and joys of fishing. I feel like a true angler in a way I didn't before. When I struggled to embrace the process, I felt like a fly fishing imposter. Now I feel like my passion and enjoyment of all things fly fishing have given me validity in the art and experience of fly fishing. Now, I relish the steps of getting ready to fly fish- every single step!

 Today I went to the spot where I first fished on my own. I mean really fished by myself. I had fished here with others and had it dialed in. The rod, the fly, the line, the spots to cast from. Where the fish were and how the current and seasons impacted the fishing on this section of the river had become a part of me. It is my favorite spot on earth. I want my body's ashes dropped in the big hole at the base of my favorite run when I depart this earth. I fell in love at this spot. I had my heart broken at this spot. I came here and healed myself at this spot. I have spent beautiful days here with family and old friends. I have made new friends here. Anytime my soul is heavy or my mind is cluttered, I can come here. The waters wash away all of life's troubles. All becomes right with my soul again.

 Having a chance to take my nephew Bowen fishing is an unanticipated highlight of being an angler. I started fishing because I was hoping for a way to connect with his older brother, Robert. Robert was at the age between teenager and adult and we would sit in awkward silence when we were together. He had 3 interests at the time- his girlfriend (now wife), cycling and fly fishing. I tried the cycling and found that I had little talent or ability to safely maneuver a bike- well, just about anywhere. I adored his now wife already. So that left fly fishing. So I took up the sport/art and immediately fell in love with every aspect of it.

Fast forward a few years and my other nephew Bowen expressed an interest in fly fishing. I had been fishing long enough that I was able to outfit him with some of the basics as he left for college in Arizona. Before he departed for school, I was able to take him fishing. I took him to one of my favorite places in the world. It is a spot of amazing beauty. I have fished here with friends. I have had long and meaningful conversations with people whom I respect and admire. I have even had my heart broken here. It is a sacred spot to me. And, did I mention, there are beautiful wild trout there? Putting Bowen on trout there was possibly the highlight of my year. 

Bowen went off to school. He studied. He explored Arizona. He fished. Then the Corona Virus happened and he came home to do distance learning for his junior year of college.

For me, that meant that I would get to show him a few more fishing spots near us. We got to go last weekend after restrictions lifted and our schedules meshed. I took him to a beautiful little spot that usually produces at least a few fish. We explored. He got some bumps but didn’t convert any of these bumps to a fish to hand. I was becoming desperate to get him a fish and the fish seemed to know it. We came to the last hole. We came to the last cast. I gave him some instruction. “Cast it in there...let it drift. You aren’t fishing yet- let it get down to the bottom. You are fishing... now.” And wouldn’t you know it, a fish hit right when I said “now”. He landed it and we snapped a picture. He was all smiles and so was I.

That moment helped me realize that Bowen wasn’t the only one who had learned over the past year. A year ago, I wouldn’t have known what to tell him to do or be able to foretell the strike like that. Sometimes in life there are moments that serve as marker to help you measure your growth and progress and that was one for both of us. It was a great day fishing with my nephew.

Now if only I could get him and his brother out there at the same time, my Auntie heart would runneth over...

I am an obsessed angler. I try to fish twice a week as often as I can. I love fishing with new and old friends. It seems that fly fishing attracts some amazing people and, since trout live in beautiful places, this combination makes for wonderful days.

The one person who I wish I could get to fall in love with fishing but hasn't so far is my son Rocky. He hates fishing. He hates it when I go fishing. As a single mom, this leaves me in a bit of a jam. So I feel like I am forever in search of some sort of balance in my life.

An example is us going camping. As I type this, I am sitting next to a beautiful tributary of the North Fork of the North Fork of the American River. It is a pristine spot with the crystal clear water flowing-right past our campground. The sounds lulls me to sleep at night and the rising fish beckon me to the water all day long. But, As you heard, Rocky hates fishing. So I have to try and find some balance while the two of us are here. We play board games, make s'mores, build epic campfires and talk. Then, when the fish are rising to the point I can't resist, Rocky times me. I get 45 minutes to step into the water and fish. He lets me know when my time is up in this reversal of "You can have some time to play" parent-child dynamic. "Aww Rocky! Can I have a few more minutes?" I ask. "Just one more fish?" "Okay", he answers. One more fish and then back up to the campsite for another round of Uno. More time with my beloved son. Another amazing day of just trying to find some balance.

Topwater fishing, whether trout or bass, is based upon reaction. The fish emerges from below, most often unseen, and takes the fly. The angler has to react in time to set the hook. The set must be at the correct angle and speed. Too soon and the angler takes the fly away from the fish. Too late and the fish is onto the ruse and knows that that tasty morsel is just a trick of feather and fur. 

As the angler, sitting and waiting for the take can be its own experience. Trying to maintain a ready status over time. Hunger, distractions and a million other things can dull the readiness and cause the angler to misreact at that moment.

Fish rarely give second chances. One miss step and the opportunity is unlikely to return. Humans can be this way too- easy to grasp at what they want in the moment and quick to turn away at the first sign of trouble. 

Both the fish and the people are good teachers of life lessons. If you get a fish to give you a second chance, you had better be ready. If you get a person to give you a second chance, don't screw it up- life rarely gives you third chances.

#onechancetoomany

#twicebitten

#outahere

Everyone has family on some level or another. At times it is family we are born to but do not choose. Other times it is family we choose but are not born into. Sometimes we are lucky and it is family we would choose that we are born into. I am incredibly fortunate that my life has many of these family members.

From my parents and sibling to my niece and nephews, I would choose each of them if I hadn't been lucky enough to be born into their family.  My beloved son, the child of my heart, couldn't be more my family- even if he had been crafted of my body instead of from my heart and soul. 

I have extended family that I hold dear too. Amazing people that have existed on the periphery of my life- providing me with roots, support and love in times of joy and times of need. Always a phone call, visit or celebration away, they add hues of love and support like a beautiful layered sunset.

The only bummer to having all of these wonderful people in my life is that I don't get to see them as much as I would love. A great example of that is my cousins, Brett and Katie. They are amazing people- fun loving, kind, hardworking and loving. We have all experienced transitions in our lives that pull us in different directions pursuing our joys and life challenges. 

You can imagine my excitement when my cousin Brett and I scheduled an evening fishing session amongst our busy lives. We set out with Captain Bryce on the Delta and the fun started instantly. Given the chance to reconnect, catch beautiful fish, be on the Delta and be cared for by our awesome guide made hanging out with family even better.

I am so lucky to have family that loves the outdoors. I am so lucky to have family I would choose. I am really lucky to share fishing with them.

#familythatfishestogether

#largemouthbass

#favoritepeoplefavoritething