The world of fly fishing has come a long way. The tweed and wicker creel, old white guy image represents vintage advertisements more than present reality.

Paul, while white, a guy, and older, never really fit the prototype for the angling catalog model. Truth be told, he had never owned a wicker creel. Two of his three rarely worn sportscoats, however, were indeed tweed. He had always fished his own way. He didn’t buy into the latest and greatest fly rods. He didn’t wear the high-tech clothing. He didn’t need a big SUV or pickup to work; so why would he need one to fish? Living on the stream, he observed that a lot of folks had more stickers on their rear windows than trout in their nets. He was part of the community. But he lived on the rougher outskirts.

So when the young man stood up and questioned the chapter’s conservation initiative, Paul was relatively immune to the oxygen deprivation that hit most in the room. There was an immediate awkwardness that Paul relished. In general, he enjoyed seeing the establishment  with a finger in it’s chest. That was part and parcel of being from the rough side of the river. In this particular interest, he was also quite pleased to have a cobelligerent.

This is part 7 of a series. Go back to the first installment here.

Apparently chapter policy states that certain financial commitments can be put to a vote. The young guy in the second row questioned why this significant expense, much more the ecological matter underlying all of it, wasn’t being voted upon. Gerry’s tan turned a pallid grey at this point. No one spoke in his or his project’s defense. Paul assumed that arguing policy was not what anyone intended when they sent in their $35 check to TU. After Gerry’s complexion shifted to a purplish-red, another board member stood up and addressed the crowd.

What followed was more awkwardness. Few wanted to cause any kind of kerfuffle. Even fewer wanted to be on the wrong side of Robert’s Rules, chapter bylaws, or Gerry. The former two were sacrosanct. The latter was often insufferable. The meeting, already waning after the Iceland presentation, ended with an abruptness as if the houselights came on after a seriously somber film.

Paul, knowing that the stream improvement project was only delayed, made his way back to his car with a little pep in his step. A roadblock wasn’t a victory, but it was better than Gerry driving a backhoe full of gravel down his driveway next Saturday. Visions of a nice bourbon and a comfortable chair danced in Paul’s head.

Hey. I mean, hello, sir.

The kid – the young man from the meeting was trotting across the parking lot, hands in his jean pockets.

You live on Fletcher’s, don’t you?

Paul nodded, car door halfway open.

I think I’ve seen you in your yard. I mean, I’ve been fishing and I’ve seen you by what I thought was your house. I love that stretch. I’ve seen a really big fish rising out there early in the morning lately. But I’m sure you know that. Living right there on the stream. That’s got to be pretty great.

You fish Fletcher’s?

Yeah. Like I said: early in the morning. I can get a few hours in before work because I’ve got grad school in the afternoons. I feel like I’m starting to get things dialed in, but I have a long way to go. Spring creek fishing, right?

This guy talked fast. And a lot. Paul’s reluctance to engage was heightening. This was a lot more words than he dealt with. And this guy was out in front of his house enough to pattern specific fish without him knowing it? Immediately he chided himself for such a selfish thought. And then his reluctance was tempered by the fact that  he remembered this young man saved him from chewing Gerry out in front of the whole TU chapter.

What time do you usually fish? Out by my place on Fletcher’s, that is?

Checking his watch, he said 5:45 tomorrow.

Okay. You might see me sometime in the morning.

Over the young guy’s shoulder, Paul saw Gerry and a few of his angling lieutenants gesturing passionately and then stopping to look at the two of them. Did they assume they were in cahoots? Was Paul’s reticence the other day plus this kid’s objection causing panic among the establishment? Paul didn’t much care what they thought. So Paul continued.

Yeah, I’ll see you one of these mornings.