I was 20 years old and living in New Mexico. The southern part. The southern, desert part where no rivers run through it. Only dry, dusty sandy arroyos that would flash flood like the dam broke at a chocolate milk factory and then the mud would dry up almost overnight and they'd be back to dust and sand. And rattlesnakes.
I accepted a cowboying job on a ranch in Colorado. The part where many rivers run through it. Rivers with trout. The boss told me to bring a fly rod as I'd be staying up in the mountains in a cow camp with several trout streams nearby. I'd be catching some of my meals for sure.
Cool! I'd been fishing my entire life but never fly fished. I was excited at the opportunity to learn about it.
The little town I was living in didn't have a fly shop. They did have a White's Auto store. They had a little sporting good section. A couple of bows, a few arrows, a smattering of scatter guns and shells for them. They also had the town's only supply of fishing tackle. I went in.
I told the man behind the counter I wanted to buy a fly rod. He had two to choose from. A pre-packaged yellow/gold colored fiberglass Eagle Claw with a reel and line or a silly looking stick sort of thing he said was made of bamboo. It had the name Granger on it. I'd never heard of Granger but I knew the name Eagle Claw. Plus, the stick looking rod didn't have a reel or nothing and he wanted about a hundred bucks for it. Screw that, gimme the Eagle Claw I told the guy as I dug out the $19.99 plus tax for the entire outfit. I was stoked. I got a whole outfit for less than a day's wages. I kind of felt sorry for the guy at White's Auto as I left. I remember thinking he was gonna be stuck with that expensive piece of wood for a long time. Somebody would have to be crazy to buy something like that for that kind of money. Poor guy.
A few days later I loaded my pickup and headed north. Made it to the ranch and a few days after that the boss handed me a shovel and told me to go dig up some worms out of the garden, we were going fishing.
Worms? He told me to bring a fly rod. Yep, you guessed it. We used fly rods to drift worms down to hungry, wild trout for lunch. Then we had them for lunch. The boss didn't fly fish. He just liked using long fly rods to drift his worms. Didn't own any flies. Dangit.
Fast forward many years. Someone sent me a copy of the book A River Runs Through It. Read it. Loved it. Rekindled my interest in fly fishing. Bought another rod and a few flies after doing tons of reading and took it up.
It also found me a bunch of new friends around here.
I must admit though, on those tough Caney Fork days when I can't seem to buy a bite from a stripper with a hundred dollar bill, the thought of drifting a freshly dug earthworm down the run does cross my mind.
