Sneak Peek "The Entertainer" Sierra Fisherman Fall Issue

The upcoming Fall issue of Sierra Fisherman magazine will be featuring an article I wrote revealing a day in the life of a hard working successful fly fishing guide. Below is an excerpt from "The Entertainer" which paints such a clear picture that you feel like you were there on that magical day.

Many of his friends said he took guiding too seriously, but in his eyes it was the only way to be. It was no different from being a Sherpa on a big Himalayan peak, his clients came first, and even more importantly his hard earned reputation had to be sustained. Reaching the summit with them was not the issue, that goal was obtainable and within reach. Anyone who bags a big mountain will always have that memory locked away forever; it never goes away and lives with them every day. He wanted to paint them a masterpiece on the water, one that would never be forgotten for as long as they lived. Great artist can do just that.

The truck rolled into the parking lot on the South shore boat ramp and he was greeted with a grand sight of the lake shrouded in fog back lit by a glowing sunrise welcoming the new day. Coots called and chirped as they worked on their morning breakfast filling the air with the most calming melody.  He slid the boat in the water, tied it off on the dock and waited for his clients to arrive. The rush came upon him and you could see the passion in his eyes; it was time to wave the magic wand and spread the magic. His guests showed up on time, they were regulars of his and had their act together. They knew the drill. Paperwork was completed and the rest of the gear sorted. Trips with these types of clients are not necessarily easier, but they are more enjoyable because everyone works together as a team just like any good summit bid. “Good morning Dean, hey Dan!” “Did you find the fish yesterday?” Dan asked. “Yep, we’re going to have risers in about two feet of water in the next hour” he said. They both smiled with anticipation as they made their way down to the idling boat that was purring away. The throttle was pinned and they bolted for Sheppard’s cove.