26
8 月
and untested,hung from his chest,like tools in a toolshed.The felt on his wading boots was as white as SnOW.A handerafted net swung on his back.The rod had never gotten wet,much less caught a fish,and the line was shiny from lack ofUSe.The reel was on backward.Typical beginner”,I thought,Rich and,like many rich people in my experienee,probably demanding. I reached out to shake his hand.A firm grabbed back.His wife,aⅡ1 attractive wol'Ilan brimming with confidenee,took a photo of us,then waved goodbye with an arlTl heavily weighted with turquoise bracelets.First I turned his reel round.He smiled and shrugged.Then We began his casting lesson on the lawn behind the main lodge. T0 my surprise,he was one of those rare people who connect with a fly rod almost immediately.It just looked right from the beginning,and he was charmed by the way the line seemed to magically flow above his silhouette on the lawn.I could just stand here all day and east,”he said,smiling.We did not have to trave]far to the water,since a perfectly sweet little creek ran along the last nine kilometres of the rutted dirt road I had tmvelled t}lat morning.The warmth of the sun raised the water temperature enough to awaken the rainbow and cutthroat trout that slept,and the caddis flies were dancing their erratic dance,here and there,over the water.ven in hip waders we were overdressed for the an.kle—deep creek,but we stepped in,waded out to the middle and faced upstream.My client cast,and I pointed to the place the fly should land.Oh,hey!Look at that,’’he said when the first fish struck.He WaS truly awed.
