A Place for angling at a Gun and Horn Show

This past weekend, I spent just about too much time sitting on my butt behind a table with a few fly fishers who I could only describe as “my elders.” I came to the realization that maybe fly fishing is an old person’s sport and maybe I should hop into an enthralling hobby of the youngun’s, such as knowing absolutely nothing about how politics work but voicing my opinion about it because I think that the orange guy is funny or molesting my phone with all my fingers in hopes to gain double digit likes so I can feel good about myself until the existential fog of real life clambers back up to the top my high chair.

All jokes aside, I very much enjoyed my time that I spent with all my other local anglers this weekend. Les Bevan was tying flies all weekend, Leeanna Young was running a table next to us for her guiding service/fly shop downtown, The Last Resort. Steve Jamsa was with us talking about flies and fish and everything between. Bret Ashworth of Bonners Books graced us with his presence except when he had to make a run back to the store to make sure it hadn’t gone underwater. ilona was with us for a while to provide a big smile and good conversation (and possibly to collect more stickers for her car).

Most importantly on Saturday, our table space was shared with the Panhandle branch of Trout Unlimited members Bob Holman and Bill Love. This was a great experience for me since I had been having a correspondence with Bill Love after he had emailed me early on about this column and now I can put a face, a voice, and a hand shake to his name. They were there to rally up some new members for the conservation organization, answer questions and pass out a bunch of free swag, of which the large camo strike indicators flew off the table faster than I could say, “I would never use one of those.”

We were a small group representing … ahem … the best outdoor sportsman’s sport at an event where a bunch of dudes, young and old, were walking around hoping to just get their fill of big racks and big guns.

And here we were, just hanging out with our fly rods to which only one of the 6 weights had a small butt. A fighting butt, that is. But we had quite a bit of interest from people who had a lifetime of experience in fly fishing, dabbled in fly fishing a few times before, and an overwhelming amount who had questions and were starting to become interested in the sport in general.

And a few of those curious people joined us for the fly casting demo (i.e. very quick lesson) which was just great. We had about an equal number of kids and adults interested in testing the waters of the fly cast, and only one of them had to suffer through my nigh inability to teach, well, anything.

Thankfully, Steve Jamsa and Les Bevan are much better teachers, and casters, than I am.

A few of our folks gave some presentations in front of a small crowd. Bill Love gave a great presentation on fish bearing creeks and the ins-and-outs of the four “C’s” of a quality aquatic habitat, being cold water, clean stream substrates, complex habitat features, and connected habitats. Bill wrote a great article a bit over a decade ago called Crick Fishing, and you can find it at this address: https://sandpointmagazine.com/story/crick-fishing/.

It was my earliest introduction to him as a person, and that was years before he sent me an email after I had started on this column. I remember that it was right after my first ever article for it where I talked about my one true love: my Goodwin Grainger 8’6” bamboo fly rod. This weekend, he was able to hold and take a look at it.

Funny how life works out sometimes.

I was able to meet a few readers of my column this weekend, which was pretty great and I want to say thanks for reading and giving me the time of dayA lot of you don’t fly fish, but you appreciate hearing about it and take it more like a trip outdoors and to the river than just a slog through some fly fishing obsessive’s thought process, and that was what I was hoping to portray in this column.

One of you put it well on Saturday when you said that my column “makes you feel like you are out there on the water yourselves.” That is all I ever wanted, and I hope it influences some of you to get on out there and experience it more for yourselves as well.

I was hoping to have some sort of story served up to me on a plate this weekend such as the one I had at the Fly Fishing Film Festival last year, which ended in me having an existential crisis and basically understanding that I was turning into my father year after year.

But no, I just had a good time. It was a joy to have conversations about something I hold dear to my heart with people who may or may not have ever had the chance to fly fish in their lives. It was good to hang out with some of my friends and acquaintances all weekend.

It was fun to put a fly rod into someone’s hand and see a smile on their face as they started to understand the rhythm of the cast.

And it is always a good day when I can have a cup of bad coffee and a lukewarm boiled hotdog for under four dollars.

Honestly.

Tight lines out there, folks.

P.S: The International Fly Fishing Film Festival is coming to The Pearl again this year on Saturday, March 14. I hope to see you all there.