duaneredford.com   "Fear No Water"

Nothing like the smile of a kid fly fishing with dad.

Dad and son all smiles even though the fish didn’t cooperate with the hero shot.

Hey Fellow flyfishers.  Father’s Day is coming up and makes me think of the times I was able to fly fish with my dad.  Some great memories were made, and the passion for chasing trout with a long stick was born. 

It wasn’t just the fly fishing, it was the early morning departures, the sandwiches and chips riverside, and the wake-up when we would pull into the drive late.  It was from Arizona to Montana and every state in between.  Heck, we even belonged to the inaugural Tucson Fly Fishers Club.  I consider myself very lucky to have been able to turn my passion into my work.  It’s still my passion, and I tribute the flame from my dad.

Dad used to make me earn my own keep on the river or on the lake fly fishing from a canoe.  I’d ask, “What’d you catch that on?”, and he would respond, “A good drift”.  Or I’d say, “Where’d you catch it?”, to which he’d reply, “Right in the mouth.”  I became much better, much faster, because my goal was to keep up with Pops.  His instruction was subtle and complete.

I remember one time very vividly and fondly.  We were fishing a stream in northern Arizona and were picking up a fish here and there.  I noticed my dad stop and study a section of river, so I did the same.  He then said we needed to head back to the camper and pull out the fly tying stuff.  Once there, he proceeded to crank out several flying ant patterns.  Obviously, once we hit that stretch, several fish were fooled and brought to net.

I love guiding father-son and father-daughter trips.  I consider myself lucky to be a part of the memories being born.  Raise a glass to all the dads out there, and pour a sip for those that have passed.  Thanks Pops.

Father-son double.

Here’s a nice fish,  her Dad took the picture.

Fear No Water and get a copy of The Fly Fisher’s Playbook for your favorite dad.

Duane