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An open letter …

To the ‘Sagebrush and Trout” crew, those I know and ones I perhaps will someday.

My reaction to being reminded of Ray via the S&T annual Smoker and the recent Birthday reminder – is very nostalgic of those times. Maybe it’s the aging thing. Fact is I’m grateful. Truly. My Birthday best goes out to yours.

I’ve looked and I’m missing a huge collection of stuff from the 2000’s. Particularly images of Fishing the Yak and pulling plugs in the Sound aboard the Alibi. I was immensely blessed to have my Father arrive with his boat and proceed to moor it in Eagle Harbor. He lived aboard for three summers and once soloed following ferries beyond the north shore of Vancouver island. I never saw him in a life jacket. Hell of a trip for Montana cowboy.

Courtesy of Geoff and Mark — I knew Ray from fishing a bit before we split Bainbridge Island back to Montana. That was in ’09 basically. A couple years later those fellows made the gallant attempt to visit us back there one very cold, wet spring runoff season. 2010? Alas, we failed to connect for reasons that remain not the focus.

I made a video of the first S&T trip, set to a Neil Young tune and posted it to Youtube, but it was rejected for copyright infringement. I think I shared it somehow. Maybe one of you has a copy. It contained zoomed footage of Ray landing the biggest trout of the weekend and Geoff standing in the bow of his boat (Mark at the helm) untangling wind knots. The best part was how clearly the camera isolated Meadowlark song.

I started feeling distance from my fishing habit after drifting portions of the Dicky and Quinault in a 17′ Clackacraft (best boat I ever had the pleasure of rowing.) The clincher was the trophy I caught in ’08. A fresh King hen wading the Quilaute – bait casting a Mepps into a riffle. (Retrofitted with a single barbless, naturally.) As a lifelong flyfisherman, I was still very new to that unfamiliar rig. But, the Ugly Stick held for 30 minutes and my wife and dog were my witnesses. No camera. She swam free and I just sat there. Numb. For quite a while. After that? 14″ rainbows on 5x seemed puny.

While back ‘home’ I did guide a couple of trips on the Yellowstone, south of Livingston. It was handy work while we were staying at a family cabin. I borrowed a beautiful Yellowstone Drifter from the brother-in-law that rowed like raft half full of water. Did I mention it was beautiful to look at? I wet lines, taught a Pastor how to nymph. We caught trout, and some whitefish. That numbness … there was no drive left to be busy with that show any more. Being 50 something, fat, stiff and cranky didn’t help. Being sober though, it just felt strange. A couple of Yellowstone North Entrance winters pushed us away. We landed on the S. Oregon coast.

Okay I’ve caught you-all up, a little.

That’s a long way to go to say thank you so much for keeping my email address in your list, gentlemen. I appreciate being the long-shot “threat to attend” each spring. I’d put the odds for 2027 at better than 50-50. You can take side-bets like Gandalf, I won’t mind. I came really close about 2 years ago, but family stuff intervened back in MT.

It’s really great that the event continues, and with more chairs around the fire.

Anglum vicarius,

(I just made that up. No, you can guess)