Being a professional fly fishing guide and the dad of a twelve year old up-and-coming fly fisherman, can, at times, cause heartbreak...both his and mine!

One thing I've learned in my 32 years of fly fishing for trout is; they learn your tactics fast!! If you put a lot of pressure on trout using successful tactics on the same waters they'll quickly catch on and your tactics will soon loose their appeal to the fish, this is especially true in winter.

Nymphing for trout successfully is an art form, to say the least. This art form takes place on a somewhat small canvas, so you have to keep your strokes to a minimum. The more you use specialized tactics on the same water, the less productive they become. When making your living using these tactics, recreational fishing has to be kept to a minimum or your business pays the price of limited success... smaller catches.

When you're 12 yrs old and have a brand new fly rod and reel, these things are hard to understand. If you've just opened a box containing your very first set of waders, it becomes impossible!

There's nothing I enjoy more than fly fishing with my son. We fish together as much as possible but seldom fish the "honey holes" I make my living on. We often fish together, scouting new waters that are mostly wild trout streams that can be hit-or- miss and very challenging to fish. Fly fishing for wild trout is a lot like turkey hunting... their often much smarter than they ought to be! Streams are tight and often hard for a beginnner to cast on, with overhanging mountain laurel and plenty of limbs and branches. Success for a 12 yr old rookie can be hard to find and frustration lurks under every rock. Matthew's zeal for these, sometimes grueling, trips is unwavering. He is always the first one in the truck when I mention scouting a remote stream. I hate to admit the truth, but when we scout these streams I'm working on trying to find a new place to help pay the bills. Matthew's success is often in his own hands because daddy's fishing hard, trying to judge the quality of the stream for business purposes. He often watches me catch the most fish while he explore's natures wonders along the stream. Or laughs his head off when daddy slips and does the "nestea plunge" in the cold water of Santeetlah Creek at 7 a.m. on a 40 degree morning, only stopping to ask, "why are you steaming daddy." "That was just my body heat leaving, son!"

I can't explain the feelings I've had while returning from a guided trip with perfect strangers where we had an epic fishing trip, catching 75 to 100 fish in a day! Man I wish that would have been me and Matthew. Maybe one day I'll strike it rich and I won't have to work anymore. I can just fish with my son.

Well, it's now mid-winter. Trips have slowed some and my son has a new fly rod, reel, and waders and I'm taking him to the "honey hole". Here's what happened:

Jan 12, '07

We loaded the gear and headed to the river with high hopes. We arrived at the river and, to my surprise, the Atlanta crowd hadn't arrived yet and we had the river to ourselves. We parked by a prime section of the river and got wadered-up, rigged our rods and were off.

Climbing down the bank, I asked Matthew, "do you want to fish in front today?" "Sure, can I?" was Matthews reply. (All bass fishermen well know the meaning of this question, as the man in the front seat always catches the most fish.)

We made our way upstream and on my second cast... fish on! I landed a nice Rainbow. Matthew looked jealous with his new waders and rod. I landed the fish and placed the fly in the hook keeper on my rod and leaned it on a tree. Today I'm not fishing. Today I'm a guide... my son's guide.

We spent the rest of the day learning to fly fish and we learned a lot.

At about 1:00 we got into a good winter Midge hatch and fish were rising left and right. We quickly removed our Nymph and tied on a #16 Parachute Adams. We fished the Adams hard but with no successs. They would come up and take a look but no takes. We went through a variety of dries with no success. Finally I tied on a large stimulator with a small Brassie Nymph, made a couple of cast and watched a nice Rainbow come up and eat the stimulator. Fish on! - "Stupid Rainbow, haven't you read any books on matching the hatch? We fished at least four flies that matched the Midge hatch with no takers, tied on a huge dry fly to use as a strike indicator for a dropper that matched the Midge hatch and you ate the strike indicator." Oh well, Matthew landed him anyway and he was happy. Matthew ended up landing several nice fish with daddy as a guide. He learned a lot about his cast and how to properly mend his line.

Daddy learned a much better lesson: Never take your rod when fishing with your son! It's much more fun to guide for your son than to just simply fish with him.

He's leaving next week on a trip to Ohio to hunt and fish with his grandfather. When he returns, I'm planning another trip and it will be epic!

I'll stay here in the Smokies, working on figuring out how to strike it rich and I'm going to spend the rest of my life "guiding for my son."