Sunday, June 20, 2010

Father's Day

It occurred to me that I reference my mother quite often here, but not my father. Different sort of relationship that struggled a bit. Dad knew how to deal with his boys, but then this little girl came along, and he was at a bit of a loss. Well, if nothing else, he could teach me to fish, and we spent many weekends walking and driving along the rivers of Montana. This is one of my favorite pictures of him, taken in April 1977 long after I'd left home and no longer accompanied him on these fishing expeditions.

Didn't matter the weather, dad liked to go on these trips and practically refused to come home without at least one fish. He didn't like being outfoxed and he didn't like easy catches. He particularly like snagging cutthroat trout because they were such fighters. The fish in this picture, according to the back, is "Dad's prize catch - biggest ever Dolly Varden Trout, 23-1/2" nearly 5 lb, on fly pole with night crawler. Near Cascade camp, Clarksfork River, Montana, St Regis Cutoff." See, that reference to the fly pole is important. Others fished that river with spinning rods & lures set up to handle the larger catches. Using a regular pole and worms was much more challenging in Dad's estimation.

Dad was at his fishing best later in the season when he could use that fly pole as it was truly intended. He'd don waders, tie on a dry fly and feed out the line while rhythmically whipping the pole back and forth ala scenes out of "A River Runs Through It." And then he'd land that fly perfectly to float under overhanging branches shading a hole he just knew held a fish or two. And he was usually right.

So here's to you, Dad.

1 comment:

Deborah said...

Nice photo and tribute!