A NEW FATHER
The year was 1944 and World War II was starting to turn in favor of the allies. Some soldiers were sent home from Europe at this time as the need for manpower was decreasing. One of these solders was discharged and returned home to Utah where he met and romanced a lady and after a whirlwind courtship they became married. That lady was my mother and part of the deal was that I came along with the bride. So my new father not only went out of the frying pan into the fire but inherited a little 4 year old boy.
Times were hard in that era and our little family struggled to make things meet. During the next couple of years we never had much material things but Dad made sure we had clothes and plenty to eat. For recreation we went fishing. I remember one day Dad came home with two metal poles. I don't remember much about them but I do remember that whenever Dad got a new pole or reel I got one as well.
Then we hit it big time. Dad got a full time job working for Utah Oil Company in Salt Lake City. The pay was super compared to what he had been getting and we moved from a small old house to a brand new house Rose Park I had graduated to the 5th grade and was expected to do work to earn money for some of my "stuff". I sold magazines, newspaper, cut grass, shoveled snow and then I got a job pushing an ice cream cart around Salt Lake. I pushed that cart until I sold enough ice cream to make 2 dollars a day.
Dad met a gentleman at the oil company named Elmer Brown. Elmer was quite a fisherman and Elmer and Dad hit it off. They would take off to some of rivers in the area usually the Provo or the Weber. Both anglers were armed with fly rods but that was about as far as the likeness went. Elmer was a fly fisherman and Dad drowned worms. Well Dad was reluctant to try flies as he was doing pretty well with the bait but Elmer kept egging him on. On one trip they were nearing the Provo and Elmer reached over and grabbed the worm can and chucked them out the cars window without slowing down. Dad was a little ticked but Elmer said today we fly fish. Elmer handed Dad a handful of a fly he called a "Rio Grande King" and they started flipping. Dad told me he caught two browns and was real pleased until he looked in Elmer's creel and saw about a dozen larger than his two. But dad was hooked, He became a fly guy and dragged me along with him. I still remember catching a little brown on the Provo with that Rio Grande King. I think it was the first fish on a fly.
The Rio Grande King became the staple fly for stream fishing. It was tied on a short shank wet fly hook for small streams and a longer shank hook for the larger rivers. It was fished as a wet fly or leaded and bounced along the bottom.
Here is Elmer's recipe for the Rio Grande King:
Hook: Wet fly, size 6 to 12.
Thread: Black
Body: Black Chenille
Wing: White Calf Tail, clipped.
Hackle: Coachman Brown, spun like a dry fly.
Dad retired in 1980 and I followed the next year. We spent many a trip fishing in Oregon, Washington and Utah. However Dad developed heart problems and was unable to do much stream fishing the last 5 years of his life. But we did take the spinning rods and use the fly and the bubble to fish the lakes. He passed away 14 years ago last month and hardly a day goes by that I don't think of him and I know he is watching over me when I fish those creeks. I was one lucky little guy when my mother found that gentleman.