A friend from Alabama was coming to visit. The friendship began on a river over a year ago. It all started one early morning before dawn. My buddy Andy and I were targeting a great section of a pressured river. We found that the earlier the better, no crowds and great fishing. On the fifth day in a row, never seeing another soul, we arrived in the parking lot before sun-up to see another car…. Huh?? Great the word is getting out… somehow… As we were starting to gear up we hear the car door open. Out comes a guy who started walking straight towards us. Looking at the car again I saw the rental sticker on the plates, great a tourist. Andy and I quickly looked at each other, we agreed to state the usual standard saying, fishing was pretty good, not bad. The guy never asked how the fishing had been but stated that he didn't like to fish by himself and asked to join. I really didn't know what to say, never been asked that before, sure we replied… and that's the beginning of a great friendship. That guy was Mark the nympher from Alabama
We fished together that day and every day until his departure. He was a great nympher and I was not, I fished dry's and he did not. I taught him the way of the hopper and learned his techniques on fishing below the surface. I think that he was shocked to see someone wearing rubber hip-boots and fishing a $25 rod, catching a few. The last day Mark gave me a rod to use, he stated, "it would rather be catching Trout". I respectfully declined and turned down his offer. He refused that decline and insisted it stayed. That is what kind of person he is, a truly honest giving person. I fished that rod many times and I was always glad that my piece of crap was in the closet.
Marks arrival was right on time, 2:30 am. By the time we got his luggage, rental car and drove home it was around 4:00 am. We decide sleep is for suckers, ate some food, geared up and off to the river. We met Andy there. Ironically, it was almost one year ago to the day, on this very same river, we all Mark. Today's adventure was a reunion and a place where Mark could finally nymph. He always called it his "home river" because this is where his Trout fishing began. I am sure he has waited for this day to come; actually he has waited a year. In his three trips to Utah this will be the first time exploring other places and with the help of some local knowledge, me. I thought that he could get his fix now, shake off the nymphing daydreams.
The day was great one, some great looking fish were caught and Mark managed to hook into every single porker White fish, Rocky Mountain Bone fish is the local terminology, on the river. His underwater technique seemed so favor the deep areas where these fish thrive. The first Rocky mountain bone that was hooked was fat; I think Mark thought he had the Trout of his life. It ran, shook and put up a fight. To his surprise it was old whitey. He managed to catch many more of these hefty fish, one that he for sure thought was a Brown, ran down stream and I yelled over to him to follow, "chase it" I hollered. Three pools later Mark finally landed it, a massive Bone!! He picked up many fish that day with his Czech nymph abilities but to Marks surprise the fish of the day was caught on a dry. After he had his fun I was up. On my turn I showed him why I dry fly!! It's the on going joke, Nymph vs. Dry, it doesn't really even matter its just fun to jab at each other. The rest of the world if full of rights and wrongs, my way or the highway, this is better than that type of gibberish. Fishing is supposed to be fun and it's the freedom of it that we enjoy, regardless of the methods.
Tomorrow is going to come early… Tomorrow is when the real fishing begins. Little to Marks knowledge I had big plans, it will be the trip of his Trout hunting life, also my plan was to get our Alabama boy to give up the "bobber" and try Dry-Fly fishing : )