The man who showed me fly fishing

RBM's Uncle Tim 

When I was 14, I took a trip out to the Pacific NW to visit my Uncle.  Up to that time, Uncle Tim had been the life-force for exposing me to the outdoors, fishing, conservation, ever since I could walk.  On this trip, our plan was to drive over to the east side of the Cascades and do some car camping and fishing with my sister and cousins.

After sightseeing, spin fishing all day, and setting up camp, Uncle Tim set up a fly rod and took us all down to the river which flowed right past the campground.  I remember him trying to explain the concept of fly fishing to me in the standard way - the line is the weighted part, the fly should float and not drag, and that if put in the right spot, a trout would actually come up and eat it.  I was in total disbelief.

I may never have given fly fishing a second thought if it weren't for that little rainbow trout that came right up out of the riffle like clockwork to crush my uncle's fly on his second or third cast.  I had to do that too!

Like with everyone else that fishes with a fly, my first time was ugly.  I snapped and popped and got super tangled on everything.  It probably took me an hour to just be able to get the fly on the water but as soon as I did, there was another enthusiastic little rainbow that would eat that hopper and change the course of my life forever.

I still can't believe that trout can be caught on some pocket-lint tied to a hook.  I think that's why it never gets old, it's unbelievable.

So to my Uncle Tim, thank you!