I'm going to try and play a bit of catch up here. Back in May, Molly and I traveled down to Oregon to join our dad on a Deschutes River fly fishing trip during the stone fly hatch. The trip was in honor of Dad's recent 60th birthday! We went with Helfrich Guides (Drake and Rob) who had an excellent reputation and still managed to exceed expectations. I'll admit it was weird to to be catered to, but it was scary how easy it was to get used to.
The trip involved floating in drift boats for three days and spending two nights on the river, taking out in Maupin, OR where most people put in for the classic raft run. This was my first time fly fishing for "real". By this I mean that I've caught dumb alpine lake brook trout in lakes that never get fished, but never even attempted something like this.
After catching many trout on dry flies in three days, I developed some opinions of the sport that I never had before. Mainly, I was stoked at how "athletic" it was. No, I wasn't breathing hard, but the requisite hand eye coordination and reaction time required to set the hook before the trout realizes it's a lip-ripping trap is pretty rad. Also, chest waders make everyone look really awesome.
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| Drake and Me with a nice Rainbow! (Photo by Molly) |
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| Josh - Molly - Dad |
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| Molly with one of her first fish caught on a fly rod |
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| Drake coaching Molly |
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