Introduction

     It is another relaxed, late summer afternoon in northwest Montana and the beckoning river whispers of its prospects. With my fly rod in hand I make my way down to the water walking over the gray and white-bleached river rock. The air is very hot and muggy and as I approach the river, my eyes are steadfastly gazing at the sliver of sun slowly descending behind the mountains. The absence of the direct sun seems to lend way to a calm and welcome breeze. There are scarcely any sounds; only a faint call of a bird or two, no other animal or human sounds can be detected. I am aware only of the river's recognizable scents of fauna and flora and the sounds of the water's swift current running downstream ambulating around small, protruding boulders picking up speed as it swims around these obstacles. My senses are awakened in this emersion of submissive beauty.

While surveying the river I slowly wade thigh high into the water, my jeans drinking in the coolness of the river's current against my skin. I almost wish I could stay this way forever, enjoying the scenery and the solitude of this moment. As I cast my fly line upstream I listen to its casting hymn again and again. I feel the tiny hairs on my arms start to rise in anticipation of a strike. My fly line chants to the waters and its rhythm does not miss a beat. I know this moment of stillness is about to change with the slow surge of adrenaline teasing my body, holding back for just the right instant to arise and consume my being into full-blown fly-fishing exhilaration. Zing…YES there it is —FISH ON! 

   Have you ever wondered what it would be like to claim a peaceful niche in time and let all your worries just roll away while immersing yourself in mother earth's splendor? Then let me acquaint you with my story Cast Thy Worries Upon The Waters vis-à-vis Reflections in trout time. I'll start when I was just learning to fish, a long, long time ago.

   I was born and raised in Seattle, Washington, and spent most of my adult life around the Puget Sound area fishing when ever and with whom ever I could. It was my father that introduced my older sister and I to the world of fishing and it eventually became my lifelong pursuit. My father was an avid fisherman chasing the salmon from Puget Sound to Lake Washington whenever he had the opportunity. As I was growing up in the 60's there were many times that my dad would come home after work and ask, "Who wants to go fishing?" He already knew that I would have the boat loaded up and ready to go. Even if it rained and rained, as it sometimes does in Seattle, I still wanted to go fishing.

   For our family vacations, back in the 1950s, we spent many memorable times on Whidbey Island, which at that time was a remote, sparsely populated island in the Puget Sound area. We always stayed at a little resort called Dines Point that had six tiny log cabins complete with wood stoves, hand water pumps and outhouses. We rented whaling boats that were launched with the aid of an old track and trolley mechanism. The track ran up and down a ramp of about 70 feet or more that was at a 40º incline. Simply put, it was steep and long. At the young age of seven I needed help climbing into the huge whaling boats that would carry up to eight people each or more. They were perched precariously at the top of the ramp and I would hold on tightly to the hard plank seats trying to anticipate when the roller coaster ride to the bottom would begin. The long and deafening rumbling noise this huge boat made as it swiftly headed down the tracks filled me with apprehension and yet a feeling of exhilaration just before we hit the water. I remember always holding my breath until we made it down the ramp. As the huge boat forcefully hit the sea it would splash huge salt sprays over all of us before sliding further into the watery bay. As this large boat made its way farther into the sound I would turn and watch the trolley that had carried us down the ramp as it was slowly being pulled back up the tracks to the top. At last it was time to fish. Those times are etched in my memory as some of the most simple and enjoyable times that I had with my family.                                                                                                         

During one of our fishing vacations on Whidbey Island, when I was nine years old, I caught a record sole on a simple hand line. I received lots of praise and my self-esteem soared. That was all it took, from that time on I was consumed with the love of fishing. If it swam in the Puget Sound, I fished for it. By the time I was ten years old my mom and dad presented me with my first true fishing rod and reel. That was serious stuff for a young girl back in those earlier years, as how I remembered it, most times it was boys who got real fishing gear.

   While I spent many enjoyable summer days fishing with my family, I remember having brief glimpses of other fishermen who were  fly-fishing. I was fascinated with what I witnessed. At that time I never had the chance to learn this style of fishing. Not too many people that we knew engaged in this unique type of fishing. It seemed perhaps as if it was characteristically for those fishermen who were a bit eccentric or elite—little did I know back then.

   Fly-fishing had remained a mystic exercise to me until about 10 years ago when I met my husband, Terry. Up until this time, the opportunity to fly fish presented itself only on a few occasions and then quickly vanished. It was never enough though, I was certain of that. Today, some 50 plus years later I am still pursuing my passion. I live to fly fish now and I am fortunate enough to say I fish with some of the best.

   Presently, my husband Terry and I spend much of our time fly-fishing and taking pictures of the wonderful scenery that we immerse ourselves in. There is always something wonderful to experience every time we adventure out to one of our favorite fly-fishing spots. Some of these amazing moments prompted me to think about jotting down the experiences I have had with my own efforts on the subject of fly-fishing. I find myself eager to share this culture that I have adopted. I want others to perceive my pleasure and realize the gratification to be derived from this sport.

It seems that most of us have interesting opinions to offer others regarding ideology tidbits, theories, or practical aspects on various subjects. These opinions are passed onto our families, neighbors, friends or community. Opinions are important! My husband and I agree to disagree on many subjects, but our view of fly-fishing is as one. I am, of course, as biased as Terry is when it comes to talking about fly-fishing. Having ten plus years of wonderful fly-fishing experiences can sway a person's thinking and create definite beliefs. I hope that maybe I can sway or prompt a few who are curious to try casting a fly line upon the water, thereby having the opportunity to create their own opinions.

Most fly-fishing "how to" books offer sound advice on how to get started in fly-fishing. They also offer information for the beginner on many aspects of fly-fishing including where to go or what equipment to buy. All of which have valuable information, therefore many books are obtainable for one's perusal. I have read many a book on the technical side of fly-fishing, but something was always missing for me in these reads. Practical sound information, yes. Boring to me, sometimes, yes. Did I just view things differently or did I feel them differently? I suspect possibly that I hear a different drummer at times. Some books seemed dry and absent of the fun and the thrill of the sport. I could not picture myself in these books. I know why I fly fish and wonder if others do it for the same reasons. I tend to over analyze motivations, but then again that is part of my character. So, within this conglomeration of fly-fishing pages, that at times breathe with thoughts of my fly-fishing inner persona, I would like to share with you a few of my special fly-fishing experiences. Some of which are on the humorous side and even those serious elements that I have encountered while fishing. I will offer you a few informational guidelines on equipment and apparel, including protocols and some tidbits of information that I found to be helpful to me. In addition, I will give you a peak at what fun and amazement I have experienced during my fly-fishing moments.

I feel that I have something to contribute to other fly fishers possibly with a different slant or view on the experience of fly-fishing and its ideology. The pages in this story are for the ones who prefer to call themselves novice and or those wanting to know how someone else perceives fly-fishing as a woman, wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, friend and a feminine fly-fishing addict. This is not your ordinary women's fly-fishing story, so snap up your fishing vest, pull up your waders, put on your hat and enjoy this excursion with me.

This is what it is all about -  A nice wild rainbow caught & released by me at Kootenai River, Libby, MT

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