Tough Love
“Alright Bud, pick a winner,” I said.
Despite George Daniel’s best efforts, I often shoot from the hip when selecting nymphs. I have a handful of go-tos for each of my home waters, but once they’re exhausted, so too are my ideas. Sure, I roll rocks and I reason backwards from recent hatches, but that’s mostly to make myself feel smart. It’s a rare outing that I successfully translate that information into fish. It used to be a lonely prospect, considering a box full of flies with a mind empty of vision, but now I enlist help. When in doubt, I ask my four year old for his opinion.
Photos by Steven Brutger
“That one’s got legs!” he said, crouched on his haunches by the river, brow furrowed and index finger extended.
“Yep. That’s a little black stone. Worth a shot.”
“No, no!”
“No?”
“Um… did you um… did you tie the black little stone?”
“Little black stone. Yes I did.”
“Let’s try that one,” he said pointing elsewhere, seemingly at random.
“Hare’s ear? No, we tried a bead headed one earlier remember? Nada. Bupkis.”
“Did you tie it?”
“Which?”
“The ear one.”
“Hare’s ear nymph. No, I didn’t tie it.”
“Dada, I want the hare’s ear nymph.”
“Do you not like the flies I tie?”
“Nooooo. I wanna catch a FISH! Pleeeeease?”
I suppose I should appreciate his honesty and, lets be straight, his instinct for fly selection.
That’s hilarious. Just wait till he starts tying and then you can get him back.
Ben
Thanks Ben. Mostly I’m looking forward to him tying so he can keep me supplied… clearly someone needs to.
That is too funny. What’s his cell phone number so I can call for advice by sending a shot of the nymph box…..
Thanks Tobin! No cell phone for him yet… which is about the only thing that gives me a slim chance of keeping up.