Thinking about fishing seasons past - and about changing the look of the blog - so I thought I'd share the fish and photos that inspired and eventually became the current Rusty Spinner banner ...
The rod is a Montague Manitou - one hell of a dry fly stick - matched with a Hardy LRH.
This is the photo that eventually became our current banner.
The same fish caught a week or so later on a little 7' 4# quad matched with a Peerless 1A.
Maybe the most beautiful brown trout I ever caught.
As much as I enjoy steelhead, I can't help but think that the hendricksons will be back soon.
Day four. The final 24 hours of our annual steelhead bender. Shawn and Mike had quit the day before, and when my alarm sounded at 3 a.m., I woke hoping the boys hadn't taken our luck with them when they left. Our plan was to get Milo into fish; seventy years on this Earth and the man had never hooked a steelhead. Tragedy of tragedies.
The plan was simple: plant Ben's father in what is arguably the most prolific run on the river, give him the right fly and a reasonable chance to learn the drift, and defend the man from the inevitable low-holers and dog walkers who would try to crawl into the slot. The first part of the plan required us to be the only cars in the parking area at 4:00 in the morning, and while we were the first to arrive, little time passed before approaching headlights told us we needed to head down to the water.
The rabbit runs round the hill, through the loop, and ...
By 4:30 we had humped all of our gear a short distance to an equally short run that is - rather ironically - known as Old Farts. I can't say I'm entirely sure why this piece of water is named as it is; other sections seem more aptly named: Schoolhouse, Trestle, the Flats, Black Hole, Church Pool. Perhaps the run had been named for a group of aged gentleman who once frequented it currents. Perhaps Old Farts is a reference to the stench that hangs perpetually low and oppressive over the water: putrefying salmon, diesel fumes, and cigarette smoke. More likely, the run is named as such because it provides ridiculously easy access to some of the river's best fish and fishing. Old Farts may be the only run in the river where an angler - even a septuagenarian like Milo - can be absolutely sure of his footing as he fights steelhead that are both ridiculously big and scary fast. The process is usually only complicated by those fish that choose a long downstream run. If that happens we'll usually break off so as not to intrude on the folks fishing below us, unless - of course - the fish is exceptional.
As we hoped, the river gods were kind to Milo, and gave him the opportunity to tangle with some very respectable fish. Ben played the part of his father's guide, patiently explaining the mechanics of the run, showing Milo exactly where to place his fly (Milo's switch cast became increasingly accurate as the day went on), helping with fly changes, and otherwise doing what he could to get dad into fish.
Here is Milo hooked up ... again ... moments before the fish throws the hook ... again.
Unfortunately, the river gods' generosity only goes so far, especially as it surrounds the newest of initiates. Milo hooked several fish over the course of the day. Every one of those fish would likely have scaled 10 pounds or more, but we'll never know for sure as we were not able to put even one into the net.
One of Milo's steelhead haunts me. The fish was an honest 14 or 15 pounds; for most bug chuckers she would have been the fish of a lifetime. As Milo played the thick bodied hen, I found myself whispering little prayers to whatever divinity chose to listen. Everyone wanted desperately for Milo to land that fish, everyone except the chuckleheads fishing just downstream of us.
On the last of its runs, Milo's best steelhead of the day tore off downstream but came ridiculously close to the near shore, perhaps only one or two feet off the boots of the group occupying the territory on that downstream flank. As I chased Big Bertha past the demilitarized zone, net in hand, I explained as I ran (by ran I mean that I was moving as quickly as my morbidly obese backstrap would carry me) to anyone listening that this could be Milo's first steelhead. "Pardon me ... excuse me," I kept repeating. "The old fella's hooked up on a slob - it could be his first fish in the net - and he can't get down here quickly enough to get his line and the fish out of your way."
"Mind if I step in with the net?"
No reply.
Again, "Mind if I step in with the net?"
Blank stares.
"Fish off."
Really? Really.
None of them moved. Not so much as a twitch. I'm fairly certain one of those boys actually stepped farther out into the water solely to complicate things. They had been trying to low hole us all day, and I am convinced their lack of cooperation was deliberate. For the life of me, I just do not understand the logic. They were hooking as many fish as were we. Could the grass really be any greener over our septic tank? Had they moved, I am certain I could have put that fish in the net. Modesty aside, I am generally surgical with a net.
This is what it looks like to get low-holed on the Salmon. On the right is Ben Jose: gentleman, fisherman, sometimes doberman. Only moments before he had been standing in the space on left, which is (in this photo) occupied by one of the river's many low-holing chuckleheads. Ben only moved to the right so as to extricate his fly from a snag. Barely two minutes. Barely a rod length. There you have it.
A consummate gentleman, Milo only smiled, and I am told - quietly whispered to his son that the fish he had just lost was the largest he had ever hooked in fresh water. I hope we can get him back on the water before the first real snowfall.
As for the rest of us, we all caught fish. Adam brought in his best ever brown trout, and Bennie stung a couple of steelies. I was good for a few myself. Altogether, this year's trip will be remembered as one of the best if not for the fishing then certainly for the personalities involved. I am a lucky man for many reasons. I am blessed with a wonderfully understanding wife who abides my passion for the long rod, three beautiful children who love me without reservation, and friends who are every bit as passionate as am I about swift water and silver fish.
This past Wednesday, I was fortunate to help manage a fly tying class, which was given for disabled veterans at the local VA hospital. The class came together nicely - my hat is off to Robin Hill of The Angler's Net for making arrangements and getting us all to come together. Thanks go out to Shawn Brillon of the Orvis company and Doug (last name forgotten ... very sorry Doug) of Goldstock's Sporting Goods, both of whom lent their knowledge and skills as instructors to our class. Everyone at the hospital was enthusiastic and accommodating, and the veterans with whom we worked were - for lack of better words - just a great bunch of people.
I have to admit that I was - at least at first - intimidated by one of the veterans who attended the class. Don't misunderstand ... he was affable, funny ... just a great guy to be around. I'll buy him a beer if ever the opportunity presents itself. But he was also an amputee. His left arm had been removed just below the shoulder, and I have to admit - with some shame - that I was at first terrified of working with him because I had no idea how he was going to accomplish the most basic movements required of a fly tyer. Perhaps more to the point, I had no idea how we were going to teach him.
I should not have been concerned; he may have been an amputee, but he was also a soldier. He adapted to the nuances of tying as I am sure he has had to adapt in most every other aspect of his life. His Woolly Bugger was tied at least as well as any other in the class, and I learned a very valuable lesson as a result. I'll never again underestimate the strength of will and of character that most people possess.
What I should have done - from the very beginning of the class - was remember an interview I conducted some 18 months ago, with another wounded veteran. Staff Sergeant Josh Williams is a good man - a soldier, a husband, a father - and his story is an inspiration. What follows is the piece I wrote all those months ago, including my interview with Sergeant Williams and some video of Josh in action.
Project Healing Waters: Josh Williams
As I've mentioned several times in the nearly two years that I've maintained this blog, I count Shawn Brillon as one of my closest friends and fishing partners. Shawn is one of the fly fishing product developers for the Orvis company; he is generally responsible for the flies and fly tying material we see in the catalog every year.
Recently, Shawn and I were discussing such mundane things as line choice for certain two-handed rods, and the crop of new flies Orvis is likely to offer this year. At the end of that discussion, Shawn spoke of a gentleman from Virginia whose acquaintance he was happy to have made.
I was intrigued by Josh Williams' story not only because he's both a fly flinger and a tyer, but also because he was a soldier. Staff Sergeant Williams carried his country's banner into combat, and like so many of our nation's warriors, he served with distinction. This is not, however, what what makes Sergeant Williams unique.
What makes Josh unique is his tenacity (think of how frustrating it might be to tie goose biots onto a nymph with only one hand). This stubborn refusal to allow life to pass him by was made manifest after he and I exchanged a few emails, and Josh very graciously agreed to be interviewed for The Rusty Spinner.
TRS: Josh, for how long were you in the Army? With what unit did you serve, and in what capacity? To where were you deployed, and for how long?
Williams: Joined the Army right out of high school (Roanoke, VA) on 31 July 2002 as an infantryman. After basic, I was put on orders to 2-7 CAV, 1CD at Fort Hood, TX. I was the automatic rifleman in my squad, so I carried the SAW (M249) and the 240B. In February of 2004, my unit was deployed to Iraq. We fought in Al Najaf, Baghdad, Sadir City, Fallujah, and Taji. Came back in March of 2005. Became a squad leader and eventually a Staff Sergeant on my 4 year service mark. I had full intentions of becoming a career soldier. God had other plans for me…
TRS: Let's address the 800 pound gorilla in the room ... How did you lose your arm, and how has that injury affected your life?
Williams: I was riding my motorcycle to guard duty on 6 April 2006, when a kid in a car ran a stop sign. I had no time to stop. I went through his window, and out the windshield. I then super-manned 171 feet in the air before finally falling. I was air lifted to a local hospital. My injuries included a severed right arm a couple inches above the elbow, a broken ankle with a nasty scar, a huge gash in my right thigh that got a skin graph, a shattered right femur that now has a titanium rod throughout, 3 broken bones in my back, and random road rash scars. Naturally, God graced me with being the only person in my family that is left handed. So that’s awesome! But I still needed to learn how to do every single thing I’d ever learned all over again. To say the least, depression set in quickly.
TRS: How did you come to fly fishing?
Williams: I was flown to Walter Reed Medical Hospital about a month after the wreck. These guys, John Bass and Ed Nicholson, came in to the hospital one day and introduced themselves to me. They were part of a non-profit called Project Healing Waters. Ed had started this to give a way for disabled vets, mentally and physically, a way of healing and therapy unlike anything else. I wanted no part of it. I was always a huge hunter and fisherman. But fly fishing looked impossible with two arms so why would I try with one? I certainly wasn’t gonna embarrass myself trying this with one arm! But after some persistence, thanks to John Bass (a paraplegic fly fisherman mind you), I gave in. I adapted fast and quickly became obsessed with the sport. Through the obstacles accomplished with fly fishing, I was able to tackle others like tying my own shoes and shooting one-armed.
TRS: When did you start fly tying?
Williams: I was retired from the Army and left Walter Reed in February of 2007. Shortly after, PHW was taking off like a wildfire. They decided to start one where I lived in Roanoke, VA. I was partnered with some guys to start it off, and it caught on pretty quickly. One evening, we had our first tying class with the vets at the Salem VAMC we volunteered at. I decided to try so I couldn’t give the vets there an excuse not to. And when it was all said and done, I tied the ugliest most pathetic woolly bugger ever tied! But I TIED IT!!! I took one of our kits home and it was all over. I was hooked.
TRS: How much time do you spend per day / per week at the vise or on the river?
Williams: I am married to my best friend, Lisa Williams. She is the best therapy I have. She knows firsthand how therapeutic fishing/tying is to me and has never batted an eye any time I’ve ever done either. I even got the chance to spend 8 days in Canada and she was totally supportive! I am also a student at Old Dominion University via satellite classes, while working full time at an architectural/engineering firm in Roanoke called Aecom. I stay busy! However, I still manage to fish almost every weekend. During Spring and Summer, I will even fish after work for a couple hours once or twice a week. I tie at least an hour almost every single evening. It is that enjoyable to me. All this fishing is definitely going to be reduced though, in the near future. Lisa and I are expecting our first child, 28 May. We find out the sex in two days and I’m as anxious as I’ve ever been! I have a feeling I’ll be taking our child out fishing before he/she can walk though ha ha.
TRS: Can you give examples of what you do differently from those anglers and tyers who have use of both hands?
Williams: When I fish, I have to tie all my knots with one hand. I don’t ever use a prosthetic. I strip the line out with my teeth. I also bring the line in with my teeth as well. I am definitely a fan of roll casting. I try to manipulate all the line I have out, so I don’t have to keep stripping in and out with my teeth. Tying is actually much more challenging to me. I can’t spin hair as easily as one with two hands. I have to kind of separate my hand into two hands when tying one parts. A few fingers are wrapping the thread, while a couple others are attempting to hold the material in place. I taught myself to whip finish by using my index finger to twirl the line around because a whip finisher scares me to death to try to use!
TRS: When did you learn that Orvis was going to offer your fly in the company's catalog, and what was your reaction?
Williams: A friend that works for Orvis, Leigh Oliva, told me I should submit my pattern “Josh’s White Lightning” to Orvis after seeing me catch a bunch of trout with it at a PHW tournament. I said what the heck. At that time, I had just started an online business of tying patterns from home. I figured what better way to improve my patterns than tying for others. You see, I didn’t want to send someone a sloppy fly, so I strived to improve the quality of my flies. It has definitely worked. I found out last fall from Shawn Brillon, the guy that makes or breaks the deal of fly submissions, that my pattern had passed the board and would be in the 2011 catalogue. What a feeling of accomplishment!!! I still can’t believe it, so periodically throughout the day I go to the website to see my pattern ha ha.
TRS: Have you any other "secret" flies in your arsenal that might someday be offered for sale?
Williams: I have a stonefly pattern that I’m trying to perfect because I just love using them and they’re so abundant in the healthy streams I fish. I also have a dry fly version of my purple white lightning that works great on wild brookies, but looks weak. I just don’t like how it looks. I’ll eventually find the right combination of materials. There’s another killer nymph I tie, but for the life of me I can’t remember anything about it ……….. Oh well …….
TRS: Finally, have you any advice or words of wisdom that you might offer not only to other fly anglers, but also to men and women who - like yourself - find themselves face to face with seemingly overwhelming injuries and obstacles?
Williams: As far as advice, I believe that we must teach our youth the things that are so important to us. We can’t expect them to pick up on fly fishing if we don’t take them out. It may be frustrating, but just remember that you too were that bad at first! If you’re a disabled soldier or civilian, don’t be so discouraged to not even try. That’s not the way to live. Be stubborn. It’s because of our Lord giving me a whole bunch of it that I’m able to get out there without embarrassing myself too much! And remember, there is always always always someone out there who’s got it worst than you! You can do it, you just have to learn how to do it your own special way.
I don't know that there's much TRS might add to anything Josh had to say. I would just like to take the opportunity to thank Sergeant Williams for taking the time to talk fishing with us. I'd also like to congratulate he and his wife on the upcoming birth of their first child. I hope that in between diaper changes and teething rings, fate gives Josh and I the opportunity to wet a line together. He has an open invitation to the river.
