It seems a thousand years ago….. growing up in the plains of West Texas, traveling once or twice per year to fish with my father on the coast of South Texas.  We were strictly chucking hardware in those days, with open faced bait casting reels that could and did develop an impenetrable tangle of line (backlash) with a poorly thumbed cast, which of course all of mine were.  My memory is clouded by the passage of years, but there were lots of little croakers (immature redfish) caught on live shrimp dragged along the bottom on sinker rig leaders, lots of sunburned evenings, and  Texas style fried seafood.    

Not until my early twenties did I finally fulfill my lifelong dream and move to the West, spending several years in Salt Lake City while pursuing graduate studies.  My wife and I met John and Charma Whitehead at a local church, and were soon beneficiaries of their legendary hospitality. 

John was a tall, lanky, quiet and soft-spoken man, at that time with two small young boys, and in fact he was (and still is) a leading hydrologist for the state.  John’s work gave (and still gives) him ample exposure to some of the more interesting waters of Utah. One evening over dinner at his home, John asked me if I had ever fly fished, or if I had an interest in doing so.  Wisely he suggested we meet some days later at the elementary school across the street to try my hand at casting, which under his patient tutelage didn’t go as badly as it might have.    I was hooked before even laying a line on the water.   

It was at this point that I purchased my first Yellowstone fishing guide (Charles Brookes) - even before my first set of gear!

More to follow in a later post - Mark 

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