With fly fishing, there is nothing more satisfying than exploring new water and discovering its secrets for yourself. Indeed, I believe that is what separates those who dabble in fly fishing from those with a true passion. Those with a passion for fly fishing typically get satisfaction from problem solving in general. For many anglers, the upside of fly fishing is that it removes the more tiresome aspects of engaging with people to solve a problem and, instead, pits us solely against nature.
Nonetheless, there are times when we all need some clues to get started. One of the best sources for those clues, particularly on bigger water, is a guide. Stan Spangler gave me this gift when he arranged a trip for me and a few other novice anglers on the Colorado River thirty-five years ago with two guides. The guide I spent most of the day with was Todd. He taught me to basics of casting and setting the hook that day. I had tried to figure out how the whole fly fishing rig worked a few times before that on my own. It did not go well.
More importantly, after many years of spin fishing while trolling on lakes or casting lures into small, alpine streams, Todd talked to me about how to read a river and why certain flies worked in certain situations, but not in others. Norman MacLean’s book “A River Runs Through It” concludes with the line “I am haunted by waters.” Every fly fisherman who relishes the opportunity to analyze a creek or river and successfully identify where the fish are holding has an inkling of what Maclean was talking about.
Since that first trip with Todd, I have been out with dozens of guides fishing some of the great rivers of the U.S. West, Canada, Alaska, Scotland, Argentina as well as saltwater in Central America. As with anything, I’ve been out with a few guides that were not that good, usually due to a poor work ethic or attitude or both. But, overall, it is remarkable how consistently good guides tend to be. Some are better at teaching the mechanics of how to best present the fly, some at finding fish and some at simply setting a tone that ensures a peaceful journey into a day with nature.
Saltwater guides tend to be very different from trout guides. Saltwater guides are not for the thin-skinned. Embarking on a saltwater trip without some degree of ability to cast an 8 weight fly rod is folly in any event, but it is also the surest way to ensure the wrath of your guide.
I used to get a bit offended by Latin salt guides that would scream “CAST! AWWWWW, YOU SPOOKED THEM!” and “YOU NO SEE THE FISH? YOU…NO…SEE…THE…FISH?!!!” followed by muttering words in Spanish that I am confident were not complimentary of my lineage or intelligence. But, with time and consideration, I realized that it is a bit much to expect the guide to stand out on a platform in the blazing heat pushing an unwieldy boat with (usually) a couple of American-sized fisherman who have spent thousands of dollars for the opportunity to catch large fish on a fly rod but who couldn’t be bothered to do some minimal preparation to increase their chances of success. I’d get exasperated too.
Trout guides, on the other hand, tend to be laid back in ways that even a kid who grew up near the beach in Southern California finds novel. That said, I have been out with a handful of trout guides who were almost as grumpy as the tamest of salt guides. I have never been out with a grumpy trout guide more than once, but, oddly, I have been out with the same grumpy salt guides several times. Even more annoying than the grumpy trout guide, is the trout guide who is clearly falling back on the same tired jokes that he or she uses on a regular basis to get through the day. This occurs most often with very young guides who are still perfecting the art of conversation or very old guides who have come to realize that the art of conversation cannot be perfected.
Most trout guides, however, are excellent company. The very best that I have been out with over the years usually started doing something else. I have been out with former teachers, bankers, lawyers, realtors and construction workers. It dawned on all of them that what they really loved was being on the water. These are typically the guides that spend a lot more of their time in gratitude for the way they spend their days than lamenting the number of casting knots and snags they have to unravel.
Being a guide is not for everyone. Even those with the most easygoing demeanors work very hard. Rowing a drift boat or raft up and even down a river is not easy. The only time I tried it I snapped my friend’s very expensive oar within the first hundred yards and we completed the remaining ten miles with an oar and a large tree branch. My guide friend Tracy in Alaska doesn’t have to row, but he is a pilot that lives day to day scouring weather data and then loading and unloading the plane in remote areas so he can get us tenderfoots to beautiful rivers where he teaches us the peculiar ways to catch fish in Alaska, nets big fish all day and cooks lunch all while keeping us safe from bears and rising tides. In short, there are a lot of similarities between being a trout guide and being the parent of a toddler. Lots of patience, encouraging words and gentle teaching all done with a smile that belies the intense craving for peace and sleep lying just below the surface.
J and I spent a week last year exploring some Montana trout streams. It was a good week of road tripping and learning new water. We did some exploring on our own but, for a day on the Big Horn and a day on the Bitterroot, we got guides. Our guide on the Big Horn can only be described as a veteran. We have been out with him before so we have got to know a bit about him. He’s been guiding on the Big Horn for about thirty years and it is hard to imagine that he enjoyed it more in his youth. He found his place in the world and seems as content as anyone I have run across. He’s in demand so feels no compulsion to justify his efforts when the fishing is slow or to stress his acumen when the fishing is hot. The days with him tend to be excursions into a variety of interesting topics but always coming back to how to solve the problem of catching the next fish. And, he knows that catching a lot of fish matters less to J and me than catching them in the most interesting way possible which, for us, usually involves a dry fly.
Our guide on the Bitterroot was at the opposite end of the spectrum, but equally delightful. He was in his early thirties which, to J and me, is a kid. He’s been guiding for nine years, but this was his last year. He has a pronounced case of the restlessness of youth but, to his credit, he has spent his guiding career distilling what gives him joy in life. He loves living in Montana, but Montana has become an expensive place to live. So he has decided he will pursue a vocation that keeps him outdoors but that pays him well enough to occasionally do what he loves most, which is hunting. He is clearly a talented fisherman but his passion is for hunting. Nonetheless, J and I had a wonderful day with him. Just like our Big Horn guide, he understood quickly that J and I still wanted to learn the most intriguing ways to fish his home water so he changed flies often to meet the changing conditions rather than doing what would have been easiest for him.
A day out with a guide is not a cheap proposition. I have had the occasional day that I regretted because I realized that I probably could have figured everything out on a stretch of water fairly quickly if I had tried it on my own. But, particularly on water that has to be floated to be fished, I rarely regret money spent on a guide. I used to think the day would come when I wouldn’t need a guide, but there will always be situations where a guide will be the difference between a good day and a day where I’m as dumb at the end of the day as when I woke up.
My top ten tips for going out with a guide:
1.Whether you catch fish or not, if your guide worked hard and was someone you enjoyed spending a day in nature with…tip well.
2.Resist waxing philosophical to your guide about how lucky he or she is to spend every day out on the water. Many of them feel that way, but many of them are also thinking, “Yes, every day with tourists that wrap their line around my head and sink hooks into me with their back casts—I’m living the dream!”
3.Listen and learn. They know more about where you are fishing than 99.9% of the remaining people in the world.
4.Don’t start talking about taking a picture or reaching for your phone until the fish is in the net.
5.Don’t take chances that may result in the guide having to use his or her first aid training. A person who can afford a day out with a guide is never as young or nimble as he or she thinks.
6.Get to know the guide. Chances are very good that the way that person came to be a guide is a more interesting story than your own.
7. Guides know where the best local dives are.
8.If the fishing is slow, ask the guide to use the time (until things pick up) to teach you something you did not know about casting a fly rod, fly selection or reading the water. They will welcome the break from the monotony of watching you not catch fish.
9.Say “thank you” for everything they do for you while you’re on the water. It’s usually one of ten things they have going on at the moment and should be appreciated.
10.Be as enthusiastic when your friend in the boat catches a fish as when you do. That takes the pressure off the guide by sending the message that you and your friend are in this together and won’t judge the guide by individual fish counts. In other words, be generous, not awkward.