There you are, watching your size 14 CDC caddis dead float perfectly with the foam in the current over what you know is at least a 12” west slope cutthroat. You’ve been watching him from the shore sip from the current caddis hatch and retreat back into the cool depths to watch, waiting for more.
Light reflections from the overhead sun create a shimmer over the serene backdrop of the Saint Joe mountain range. Fish are surfacing above and below you on the same riffle you are currently fishing. But those aren’t your fish. Your fish looks at the fly you tied the night before and begins to rise.
Focus, you think, patience.
He noses it at first; a test. He rises again and slurps the fly up. Before you can react, he spits it back out.
You hang your rod as you hang your head. Another one got away. You look upstream to cast again, and an object is coming down the run, larger than anything else you have seen pass through. As it gets closer, it becomes clear that the cylindrical object is a beer can. You wade a bit closer to the riffle. You reach out and grab the can. Opened and empty. And now you are stuck with someone else’s garbage. Two losses in about a minute.
Anyone who has spent even a decent amount of time in the great outdoors has noticed garbage of some sort. Every hike, every excursion, every trip down to the river will bring notice to the amount of trash that lays rest in our pristine places.
It’s so common that my friend Les Bevan ties a fly that looks like a cigarette butt and he supposedly has had great success with it.
Most streams that I fish frequently up in Boundary County are quite devoid of garbage since they can be hidden and tricky to get into. But when I visit the rivers or lakes of the area, it is a whole different beast. In fact, the final lake fishing excursion I had last year at Dawson, I feel like I was casting out more to try and hook chip bags, sandwich bags, and cans to drag in than I was casting to fish.
And this is after cleaning the dock of numerous pieces of monofilament, broken bobbers, and broken jigs. The areas I fish around the Kootenai tend to have cigarette butts, Zyn pouches or cans, and enough empty cans to make a few bucks at the recycling plant.
And it shouldn’t be that way. I was taught early in my life to take out more than you bring in.
When you go out camping, clean up the garbage at your spot even if it is not yours. Out on a hike or going down to the river? Bring a bag and pick up the trash that you find on your way. Not only will it feel good and maybe boost your good karma a bit (we could all use more of that when it comes to fishing), it will make everyone’s life a little better when they come through that same area. And it is a lot better for the wildlife as well.
My father once told me from the back of a canoe that “trash leaves trash.” And I fully believe and support that slogan. Only a moron would litter. Only someone who didn’t respect and truly love the outdoors would leave their garbage in it. And I have seen a lot of that recently.
Now, I live down around the area of the river, and it is a hop skip and a jump to the aptly named Sewer Lagoon (the long-time locals know it by a different, shorter and more catchy name). My wife, my son and I often go down to enjoy a bit of time at the sandy beach on a nice, sunny day. We run around barefoot, go swimming, do a bit of fishing, and have a picnic. It is always a lovely time, and it truly is a beautiful part of our town, all surroundings considered. However, as the burbot run has been in full swing, the beach has been crowded during the night with people out fishing for that ugly but delicious fish.
Burbot fishing made its return to the Kootenai river in 2019 after being closed down back in 1992 because of the largely decreased population. And it is a great thing to have happened for our river and our anglers. But it has also brought out the worst in people. My family went down on March 7 to do our typical little beach trip and, as expected, there were about eight campfire spots from the night before. One was still smoldering quite hot, and the others were large.
They all stood between us and another family of four. Their two girls, probably two and four, were skipping around and rolling in the sand and just having a great time in bare feet. My son was running around. The 14 week old puppy was being a 14 week old puppy.
And I was stringing up my 9 for 6 old Orvis rod and tying on a basic olive wooly bugger to just take a simple shot at some fish. And with us all was a bit of bags, cans, and wrappers. Nothing too bad. An easy pick up for us. However, once my wife started rooting around in some of the campfire spots and began to pull out large shards of glass, I realized that this was going to be a cleanup trip. Luckily we had brought two different grocery bags just in case.
She took one fire pit, I took another. Our toddler went back and forth to both of them, as he would. More and more glass was pulled out. Glass so hot it melted together. Shattered glass shards that would definitely ruin a day if someone at the beach here stepped on it. And then came the nails and screws. People had obviously been burning pallets, which in itself is usually not a good idea considering the chemicals the wood can be treated in. Not the best to inhale, that’s for sure.
But worse than that is the fact that the nails and screws holding the things together will be left where they burned and in this case, that is a sandy beach where they can get covered until they pierce through an unexpecting foot of someone just trying to have a good day.
And this is all easily avoidable.
If you want to drink beer while you’re fishing, go ahead. I enjoy it too. But bring cans (and don’t throw them into the fire). If you want to drink from a glass bottle, either change your mind or open it enough to think, “hey, if I don’t burn this Kokanee box, I can put the glass bottles in it and haul ’em all off together!”
Bring a kitchen size garbage bag from home, and get this: throw your garbage in it and then haul it back home. It is quite a crazy concept, but honestly, it’s not that hard.
Sadly, many people are just lazy.
At the end of our time at the beach, we had cleared out four fire pits of all refuse and put out the still hot and smoldering fire, and had two grocery bags full of at least 35 pounds of broken glass, nails, screws and bottles. That is absurd. That should never happen.
And if you think that it’s alright, there must be something evil deep inside you that I do not believe will ever have a chance to change. But I do not want to believe that.
I want a world where people not only clean up after themselves, but one in which more people will start cleaning up after others who refuse to clean up after themselves.
We all owe it to ourselves, to others, to the wildlife, and yes, to the planet that we live on to put in a little more work.
One of our lakes up here is a heck of a lot prettier to look at without a Doritos bag floating in it. And my walks around town would be a lot more enjoyable if some of you all would pick up your dog’s poop as well. The District 2 Ball Park looks like the Great Doggy Doo Doo war has happened.
I don’t know about you, but I personally don’t find enjoyment in seeing pile after pile of pile after pile of excrement.
If you see any bad cases of trash dumping, loads of broken glass or anything you feel like could use a bit more attention, give the Boundary County Maintenance crew a call, (208) 946-7608, or shoot them an email at maintenance@boundarycountyid.org.
James Standal is a writer, an eater, a drinker, a father, and a fisher. A longtime resident of Boundary County, he lives with his wife, his son, a few animals, and a couple handfuls of fly rods. He had been a wildland firefighter, a cook, a worker in Parks and Recreation, and a state park ranger before he found a cozy job at his favorite bookstore in the world. He has a website he runs, jamesstandal.com. Casting Conversations is published each Thursday. Unless the fish are biting …