A Boy's First Trout

David's First Trout

My son David was the last of my four sons to learn how to fly fish and experience success. He had learned how to tie flies and cast, but catching his first trout had eluded him until he was ten years old. Success finally came on a float trip down the Deschutes River but not without a few apprehensive moments.

As I helped my son rig up his outfit, I briefly explained how to mend the line and use the wet fly swing to present the fly down and across the current. I also told him to keep the rod at a low angle as the fly swings and not to jerk the rod if he got a take. At my suggestion, he tied on an old reliable orange-bodied Tied Down Caddis. Finally, I reminded him to be careful of the rattlesnakes when he was walking, and if he saw one to stop and shout for help. He nodded with assurance and headed up to a nice riffle.

From camp I watched him make his first few casts, and I felt that this might be the time David would catch his first trout. After half an hour nary a sound was heard, and I was wondering if he might need some help when a blood-chilling scream echoed in the air. I thought “snake” and rushed up stream for fear that he had been bitten, but it was a false alarm. David had finally hooked his first trout and it was a nice one. After several intense minutes he finally landed it. It was close to 20 inches.

I took a quick photo and after he released it I asked him how he enjoyed the action. All he could say was “excellent.” From then on I knew that he may have thought that he had hooked the fish, but in reality the fish had hooked him for life.