After almost two weeks since we started guiding clients, I definitely encountered my most difficult challenge to date. I just pray to all that is holy that I got the worst out of the way because if not, I will most likely try to get my hands on some lorazapam or a few zanex to ease my stress level. If you're wondering what could have possibly made this week so hard I have two words for you: 8 Kids.
Now don't get me wrong. Anyone who knows me knows that I love kids. I will never shy away from spending time with young kids and teenagers. However, when you only have three guides for 8 kids ranging from ages 8-16, things get interesting very quickly.
Taking three people is a challenge to begin with. On top of trying to split yourself three ways and trying to give everyone the same amount of attention, there are other factors working against you. First, is you only have a limited amount of water to fish. A half mile of water is a lot of water for one person. In fact, you need to keep a pretty good pace to get through all of that water before your time is over. However, when you try to fish the stretch with three people, the amount of water for each person is split in thirds and as a result you have to fish specific spots harder than you would like. Second, safety and efficiency come into play. With three people, you can't always be there to help the guest cross the river or ensure they don't continually foul up their line or snap off their flies. It's amazing how quickly things go wrong when you are not around to hold their hand.
Now, you read what I just wrote and then imagine three kids, ages 8, 12 and 15. All beginner fly fisherman. When I think back to these trips, a vein slowly bulges from my forehead. I started this trip on a stretch of river that is notoriously good for both numbers and size of fish. I right away established that the 15 year old would fish on his own for most of the day so I could focus my attention towards the younger two. I set him up on a good run that had produced fish the day before and then headed up river with the others to fish a plunge pool that also holds a bunch of fish. I began by having the two brothers paper, scissors, rock, best two out of three, to see who would fish first. The older of the two won and started casting. About three casts into the first hole, I hear "DREW!!!" from below. Thinking the older cousin had a fish on, I got excited only to find his entire rig balled up to the size of a softball. I waved him up to me so I could untangle his mess while still working with the other two. As soon as he got up to me, the younger boy who was sitting on the bank waiting his turn was mindlessly dangling his rod over the river, right in the path of the other kid's casting lane. It's like it happened in slow motion, but sure enough, I had three rods, all with rat's nests that we like to call "Career enders". This means that I had to clip all of the line off and start from scratch. I had to determine who I wanted to fix first and ended up getting the oldest back onto the water so I could make sure at least one person was fishing. Overall, a great start to the day.
As we continued up stream, I think by that time, I had re-rigged the kids at least a few times a piece. In between rigging sessions, they would tell me, "maybe we should try some different flies..." or "I need to catch a fish..." or "Are you sure there are fish in here?". After a while, especially with kids, you have to become a little bit of a hard ass and bust there balls a bit. Sometimes you have to get pissed at them and let them know that if they don't improve, I'll put them in the penalty box, which is a guide term for tying on a fly that has no chance of catching a fish and then telling them later that they were in the penalty box. As I say this, don't think that I was verbally abusing these kids. I would bitch them out light heartedly so it was still fun for them but that they understood deep down I was serious.
A tough thing with these youngsters is that they cannot be in the river by themselves. When we would cross the river, I would be up stream of them and break the current for them as we trudged along arm in arm. I did look down at the 8 year old in a particularly fast stretch of current, only to see his feet skipping along the surface of the water, holding on for dear life. I got a little chuckle at that, even though it could have ended very poorly. Another time, I had to get the youngest boy on my back so he didn't fill his waders with water.
It is interesting taking brothers and in this case, brothers and cousin on the river. As any brotherly competitive feud, they are always trying to one up the other, whether it is catching more fish, bigger fish or trying to spoil the other's success or self confidence. I'd be intently watching one's flies, and from behind me, I'd hear, "SET!!!" causing the kid fishing to yank his flies out of the water most often than not right when the flies were about to drift over fish. There were words used by 8 and 12 year olds that I hadn't even heard of at their age. They'd poke each other in the ear with their rod tips. There was punching, shoving and tripping. I served as fishing guide, life guard and baby sitter this week. As good as these kids were, I was glad to see them leave. We had a lot of fun, regardless of our success on the water and I think overall they appreciated us guides treating them more like adults. All I can say is that it was pretty nice today to get a single, somewhat capable fisherman on the river. That vein in my forehead has finally relaxed a bit.
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