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The smell of frying bacon permeated the kitchen, rivaled
only by the aroma of a freshly brewed pot of Columbian
coffee. It was 4:45 in the morning and I was cooking
breakfast for myself, my good friend, Wade, and his 15
year old nephew, Devon. This wasn't just your average
trout fishing trip, this was Devon's first ever trout fishing
trip and fly fishing experience, a very special day.
The scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, washed down with
the coffee, were gone before we knew it. I loaded my gear
into Wade's car, climbed in and we were off. I don't think
you could ask for a more picturesque sunrise to mark what
was to be the spectacle to come. The sun went from pink to
orange to purple, lighting up and making the mist that lay in
the valleys glow along with its changing colors. It was like a
scene straight out of Hollywood movies. I could almost hear
the music in the background.
Our trip would be taking us to Bennet Spring State Park in
South Central, Missouri. Not what anyone would call "classic"
trout fishing, but it's a great place to get a young man excited
about fly fishing for trout. With all the rain that has graced
Missouri this year, the stream has been blown out and murky,
to the point that you sometimes couldn't see the bottom in only
a foot of water. The fishing had been very tough on my previous
trips down there this year, but I was still optimistic that we would
at least be able to get Devon into some fish. To say I was relieved
that the water was down a little bit, and clear enough to sight fish,
would be a tad of an understatement…this was going to be good.
We got our daily fishing tags, rented Devon some waders…with
size 14 boots, and then headed up to the spring to have a look-see.
We couldn't have asked for much better conditions, ok, we could
have, but we likely wouldn't have gotten them. We geared up and
hit the water. Wade spent some time with Devon pointing out some
fish, where the spring was so he would know were not to go,
and showed him how to fish a nymph. In only a few minutes
Devon had it down to an art and was fishing every inch of water like
a pro. The fishing was good, the catching however, left a little to be
desired, and I could tell that Devon was beginning to get a little
discouraged. Not long after that I started landing a few fish, a few
rather nice fish for Bennet. I slowly made my way over to where Devon
was fishing to see how he was doing and if I could answer any questions
for him. I saw that he was using a full 9 foot tapered leader and struggling
just a little with his line control, so I asked to take a look at his set-up. I
showed him how I usually set up my rod for nymph fishing and asked if
he would like me shorten his leader for him a bit. He readily agreed, so
I took off his leader, tied on a 4 foot length of 7X tippet, one of the flies
I was using and a small splitshot to help get the fly into the drift zone.
We waded out into the water in search of a fish to entice. He had picked
a fantastic spot that had a nice shallow pocket loaded with some
really nice looking fish. I gave him a few pointers, and showed him how I
fish with a short line and a nymph. As luck would have it, with my second
or third drift, one of those respectable trout thought my fly was just the
ticket, much to Devon's delight. His confidence soared so much that it
was visible in his whole body. It was his turn to give it a try, and with just
a few drifts under his belt, he had his first take. In his excitement he grabbed
the reel when the fish took off on its first run, and promptly snapped the light
tippet. If he was disappointed, you would never have known it. The next
thing I knew he was pointing out all the fish he wanted to catch with a
fevered pitch in voice that was quite contagious. With a new fly tied on,
and a few drifts later, he had another hook-up, and this time was able to
land his first trout ever. It was a very pretty 12 or 13 inch rainbow that
had large dark markings all the way down its back. He held if for a few
moments, marveling at how soft it was, and how slimy. I managed to snap
a few pictures of him fighting it, and then a quick one before it slipped back
into the water. I don't think Wade or I could have knocked the smile off of
Devon's face with a 14wt. It was purely amazing to see the transformation
that took place after he released his first trout.
I stayed with him for a few more minutes to linger in the moment for
just a little longer. It was clear that he had a good handle on what he
was doing, so I moved off down the stream just a few yards to see if
I could fare as well as Devon had been doing. I did pretty well, but it
was Devon who had the hot rod that day. Wade had a pretty good day
of fishing too. All in all, we took home five trout. Devon desperately
wanted to eat some of his catch, who was I to argue.
The trip home seemed to take longer this time. Maybe it was the vivid,
fresh memories of all the fat, larger than normal trout we had just caught,
and the hordes of trout we left behind, and maybe it was the pleasure
and pride that Wade and I felt as we watched Devon transform into a
fly fisherman, whatever it was, we were sad to be leaving. Devon though,
wasn't feeling a thing. He was out like a light, propped up in an awkward
looking position that can only mean one thing: he'd just had one heck of a
day fly fishing for trout.
I have seen a few things in all my travels around the world that are
difficult to describe with words, that trip is the newest on the list. I
consider it a great honor to have had Devon as a fishing partner for
the day, and to have been a small part of what I hope is a memorable
chapter in his life. I can say with great confidence that he is a fine young
man with a bright future ahead of him…thanks for letting me go fishing
with you, Devon. ~ HMG
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