THE GIFT – Part 2
( Click this link for Part 1 of the Gift )
“I take it that you have never done this before?”
Ralph nodded his head.
“Well, why don’t you tell me about what you can do?”
For the next several minutes Ralph told Mitch about his time at the Far and Fine Fly-Fishing Academy. He explained that was actually the first time that he had really tried to fish with a fly rod, except for his brief attempt last evening. He showed Mitch his bruises. Mitch stifled a smile as he looked at his black and blue knuckles.
“Well, it looks like we have some work to do today if you want to manage to actually catch any fish on this trip.”
Mitch moved the boat slightly off shore and took Ralph’s rod and proceeded to demonstrate how to cast the large weighted nymph.
“Now you can’t cast this thing like a tiny little dry fly. You need to lob it. If you try to cast it like a dry fly you’ll end up wearing it, and these things don’t make very pretty earrings!”
After a few attempts Ralph mastered the art of the lob and Mitch eased the boat back out into the current.
“Cast a little farther ahead of the boat. That’s it. Keep the rod tip up and strip in the slack. That’s it. Pick it up and cast it again. There – strike. Nice fish. Get him on the reel. That’s it. Now, let him run.”
A few minutes later a nice brown trout slid over the rim of Mitch’s net; the big Bitch Creek firmly hooked in the corner of his jaw.
“That sir is how’s it’s done.” Mitch held up the net with the most beautiful fish that Ralph had ever seen.
“Wow!”
Over the next several days Mitch and Ralph floated several famous rivers, they fished spring creeks and small freestone rivers in Yellowstone Park, and they even hiked into a mountain lake where Ralph had his first experience fishing from a “belly boat.”
After dinner on the last evening of his Montana fishing adventure Ralph sat on the porch of his cabin watching the last rays of the sun color the thunder heads that were forming over the mountains. Tan and lean from several days of non-stop fishing he was a far different man than the one that had stepped off the plane just a few days earlier. Ralph thought about the certificate that he had received from the Far and Fine Fly Fishing Academy. Now he knew that rather than a graduation certificate it had only been a learner’s permit. Experience, he concluded, really was the best teacher. Already he had made his reservation for next year, and insisted that Mitch be his guide.
A cloud of dust traced the trail of a dusty pick-up truck as it came down the road toward the cabins. It stopped in front of the adjoining cabin, and a young man got out and gathered his gear from the back of the truck. Bob stuck his head out the window.
“Cabin 4 is yours. They serve breakfast starting at 6 A.M. in the main house. You’ll meet your guide there.”
Bob drove slowly toward the main building leaving the young man to wrestle his gear into his cabin.
Ralph settled back in his chair and smiled.