Swedish version

Dan Fallon's World of Fly fishing

Column nr. 3  2008  


 World Class Fly Fishing Guide

  Many are called, few are chosen who can master both fly fishing and diplomacy needed to survive and flourish as a working fly fishing guide! Knowing local waters well enough to put clients on rising fish according to weather, time of day, water conditions critical. Knowing when to stay quiet with touchy ego driven twice a year fly fishers often feeling entitled to special treatment for reasons rarely obvious.... So many skills come into play for international fly guides, small boat navigation, current savvy, equipment up keep, lunch preparation while in the field, ability to quickly read clients and allow them as much instruction or no interference as required? Though I rarely use the services of fly guides, many have become friends world wide. Up in Alaska, Lake Marie the Wilson brothers were the best at wilderness guiding. One guide in particular Gordo Gracey who has lived and guided the legendary Olympic Peninsula a place where wild trout and salmon ply green healthy waters is a fine example of dedicated prepared pro fly guide!

  Gordy Gracey suffered a life changing fall last summer that has left him in very rough shape; confined to wheel chair, relying on his wife Kim and many friends in Oly Pen. Fly fishers and their guides share a symbiotic relationship based on love of outdoors and fooling wild fish. Gordy like myself and other outdoors men never put limits on how high to climb hunting or how deep to wade as a Brother of the Long Rod. The outdoor life is at times dangerous as high prices can be paid when one lives near the edge in pursuit of wild game. Gordy gave me a tour of his water rich world a few years ago when I came to town to write an article about Bill Sperry local Bamboo rod collector. Gordo’s boat, gear, knowledge was right on the money. A fine day was had thanks to Mr. Gracey.

  Life on the fabled Olympic Peninsula is geared for outdoors activity especially fly fishing as many fine wild rivers run through this fly fisher paradise. Gordy and I worked his favorite reaches as I drank in his awfully green world... Gordy kept his gear, boat, attitude general fly knowledge in top shape! I was impressed by his casting skills outstanding, in the world of fly guides Gordo appeared to have mastered his world. Last week I got a very sad E-Mail from Mrs. Bill Sperry his friend that he had taken a bad fall and would need all the help friends and family could provide. This man in my mind is deserving of much compassion as he spent his life making others happy. If your one of the hundreds who chased salmon, trout with Gordy?

  Or someone like myself who has immense respect for those who live life as an adventure rather then a nine to five chore. In my mind Gordy is symbolic of the wild spirit that thrives in outdoorsmen who build permante ten story mansions right on the edge. Gordo, your in my prayers. Please contact Kim & Gordy Gracy at 360-374-6300 Forks, Olympic Pininsula. My heart goes out to Gordy and his friends and family, get well Brother Of The long Rod. Better days are coming old friend.

 Fly Fishing Lifescape

  It is common knowledge Danger and her attendant’s Carelessness and Fate ride along on every trip, boats, wading, changing fast water currents, insects, wasps, bees, snakes, slippery rocks above and below the water line can ruin your day! It really doesn’t matter how careful or seasoned or knowledgeable you are Cowboy sooner or later your time will arrive! Might be that solid looking rock your about to put your full weight on? Or perhaps your not going to take a look before you flop down for lunch right over that rattler hole! Then again a sophisticated Hombre like your self would never travel too far at dusk without new batteries in his, her flash light and a working compass? Oh no not a problem for the fly fisher who ALWAYS tells someone where she is going when due back? Of course compass knowledge goes without saying Pilgrim? Maybe a light weight aluminum survival blanket, water purifier, magnesium bar and flint so you can create a fire even in snow or rain would be prudent depending where you live. Have you in your mind actually thought about what you would do if you broke an ankle, leg, hit your head, broke ribs out in the areas you fly fish in? Better consider now before loved ones sit around at scrumptious well prepared Pot Lucks and miss your dumb ass! Difference between winners, losers in the wilderness is the bare minium items mentioned above. If you don’t have them or cannot understand the need? Bless your pathetic soul, please do not reproduce and inject your dumb ass gene’s into our already polluted genetic future....

  According to international statistics fly fishers are more likely to get in serious trouble in the field running into Bee’s, Bull’s in pasture, wild Pigs, or getting caught in too fast currents! In my fly fisher life snakes have slithered through many trips ( see column, "Snakes On The Fly"). Most serious incidents involved slippery submerged rocks and fast currents that suddenly quickened and caught me! As a card carrying JYD, more then once the Irish temper has flared when unthinking humans with dogs, brats, somehow found me and converged like blind locust upon my quietude.

  I have a habit of speaking my mind when one of three buttons are pushed; comments of any kind in regard to my Irish descent, any untoward remark aimed at my beloved brothers in the USMC, slightest negative nuance with my dear Mother’s name attached! After these obvious Wolf felonies, considerations for going to war might be allowing your dogs to chase balls you just threw near where I’m fly fishing, or rolling within a few feet of me in your giant raft just as a nice trout hits my fly hours before its legal on any of the many California rivers I regularly fly fish! Wade in, or yell out at me while I’m on the water working an area, any contact or hand gestures or whistles or loud music or human domestic sheep like behavior indicative of the American human rural human species...

  General Bitching!

  While working many reaches on my favorite sleep in luxury river the mighty Truckee River that runs down the mountains through the historic town of Truckee one early morning a resident driving a garbage pickup drinking beer 7am with his rangy stray dogs decided to play catch within twenty feet of my casting lane!

  One can imagine the animated conversation that ensued after I removed myself from the river and moved with in inches of this grimy long haired bag of crap and advised, "Can you give me a reason why my right hand ought not to break your f....ing nose Pilgrim!" Unfortunately free boxing lesson’s were not given.

  On the same wonderful river a few years ago a raft full of happy campers and their overly eager summer college kid rafter professionals had knowingly broke the river rules and began running early 7am. I offered advise as they paddled furiously to avoid hitting me wading near the middle and hooked up to a nice wild twenty inch Rainbow that hit my streamer. These incidents of general lack of respect are more common now as the population grows it appears the number of moron’s. idiot’s, simpleton’s, etc multiplies exponentially like the Human Genetic loaded Gun Barrel String Theory in reverse (HGLGBST my own genetic theory). Many of our non fly fisher brothers and sisters would do well to find deserted islands to live and reproduce instead of jamming up K-Mart parking lots and filling prisons... It may be my prehistoric understanding of basic politeness in this new century! I was raised with one outstanding rule to live by and have never altered its essence, "Never charge anything with your mouth your ass can’t cash! "Just another dumb ass Irishmen with more soul then he can possibly control.


© Phil Frank 2002

Illustrated By Phil Frank,
San Francisco Chronicle Cartoonist, creator of "Farley "

  First lilting opening chords to Eric Clapton’s "After midnight" drift in to sleepy castle ears as the 9am wake up music bounces off grey slate walls of Fletcher Quill’s Northern Ireland Castle retreat Raven’s Haven... In an attempt to neutralize Blond chaos of night before Quill asked staff to play only old school Chicago Blues till noon time.

  "I still can’t believe you had the audacity to bring that beautiful Fowl Mouthed Frisco Bitch ( FMFB, Baby!) into our castle you Old Famous Fool!" (OFF!)

  "Our castle pumpkin? Now before you get that black string thong in a bunch again La Sharon. Here is the final 411 on my hotty import. If the Peace Temple is not properly activated by Mutha Superia Serena, my ancient ass may pay a high fee. Kabish Princess. Now you make nice with her or you and I have an impasse!"

  "Ok, Ok, if she starts that Gucci bag Tude Bullsh-t again I will have her perfect ass for breakfast! I’m out of here at 11am copter pick up. Be gone two months Quill, if you and this little Blond cupcake start doing the wild thing keep her out my wardrobe please. She can wear her own black snap camisole by the fire place hey Fletcher? Does she like nylons, lipstick, very short habits or whatever they call those hideous rags they wear!"

  "Stop, she is a NUN for heavens sake Sharon, I don’t bang Nun’s hun! Besides after the Peace Temple meetings it may be go time for General Quill. I have left everything to you, Timba especially, know you love my cat, where is he, Timba, Timba?"

Timba Quill’s 8year old best friend Feline Domesticus Abyssinian strolls in cool as a long neck brewski on a hot summer day. He launches onto Quill’s lap and the love fest begins. Woman come and go, Timba and Fletcher occupy their own sacred human/cat scape... (Catscape Websters??? Huh, ah yeah that fits nicely!)

  "How is my best pal Timba, Timba, Timba..."

  "You and that silly spoiled bad tempered cat, never saw anything like it. He acts like you old man JYD tendencies. Staff tried to change his water while he ate dinner last night, he swiped the Hell out of Reeves left hand!"

  "Serves him right, Timba takes no poo poo like you. Going to get nuts around here this morning, General’s coming in, you leaving, Peace Temple activation, Duke Parker and Sister Serena, better get up and at it!"

  "Excuse me Sir, your attention is needed in the tying room. Our latest guest is deep into your feathers.."

Quill bolts pulling on his robe up the spiral staircase hitting the double doors with Timba two steps behind..

  "Sister Serena up early dear? You must understand these feathers are rare and expensive. They do look lovely in your hair though..( Darker roots Quill can’t help but notice Home girl? Carpit match the drapeola’s baby cakes?) I see you draped feathers on my plants, I like that application sweet, peaceful."

  "I’m enthralled have never imagined birds this color texture, vibrant almost alive!

Why have people not used them as ornamentation Fletcher? Does Sharon come in here and has she forgiven my nastiness? HONESTLY, (Rubbing her hands again) I didn;t mean to freak her out!"

  "You have made an impression young lady. Now how about we sample some of this high grade Tai Stick Keith left for me. Lets smoke a bowl and conversate. (Quill’s hand made five foot Hooka is fired and the hose past to SS who takes a huge toke and smiles)......" (Hooka built by Afghani tribesmen, resplendent in jewels and feathers....) As the Masters’s right hand finds it way under SS’s Habit...

  "Now then SS, lets get down to GOLD Tacks and hard facts. Before I forget here is a little brain treat from Uncle Quill, 150 mikes of pure Owsley. Slam that down wait twenty minutes and I’ll see you for breakfast." (Let the games begin Baby!!~~!!!!!!!)

  "Dam, that Tai is mean my wonderful host. Us both growing up in San Francisco and so forth is like family. Can I have another tiny hit? Can we go up to the roof before breakfast? Your castle reminds me of my home in SF near Cliffhouse Pont Lobos. Kinda looks like your castle and the roof view divine, we call it Wolf House... (rubbing her hands together ala cute seal like again and again...)

  "Lets go sweety, wait is that John Lee Hooker and Howlin Wolf doing, "My Baby gives it away every day!" That Tai kicks butt."

Quill and Sister Serena begin rolling with the music together sorta, "My Baby, gives it away, every day, babe......." (Brain food about to kicks in!)

Just when the romantic ambiance could not get tighter then Hilleries Presidential purse in March several hundred 12 inch Fairies all rubbing their hands together just like Mutha Supeira when the sound of leaving chopper break the mood? Its wayyyyy tooooo cute.

  "Honestly how dare you make fun of a sister Homey under the influence of what the Hell was that acid tab you gave me called again, I have flashes of me cheer leading in some Filmore district liquor store parking lott circa 1994? Hey was that another one of your Fairies I just saw speaking Italian and carrying a neon sign that say’s, "I’m in THE PRIVATE MODE! " making fun of me again hey Quill?"

  "Hold on their little miss innocent, you seem to have the same basic Blond genetic flaws like Sharon and my other fifty hotty Blonds I have had the privilege to bang repeatedly as I will be banging you dear shortly. The main flaws are, " I’m never at fault or to blame for the effects of my unbelievable beauty and spell like effect on dumb ass men in general! And I’m entitled to every consideration as all woman hate me because I’m so fine and of course I must always be center of attention even if it means throwing a fit to have my own way. Now have I covered all of it other the then whole narcissistic syndrom ala blond clothing, Black short skirts, nylons, lipstick dripping, screaming,pleading, please, please f..k me please with every step."

  "Well said Sir, may I sit on your lap while we discuss the finer aspects to your elaborate theory?"

  "I wonder if that was our little pissed off Hollywood galpal who just coptered out of here for two months or???"

Timba crawls up on Sister Serena’s perfect lap as the new mistress of Raven’s Haven feels the accepting purrrrrrrr of the Master’s best friend.

Six blissful hours breeze by as the Master teaches not only the Kama Sutra in great painstaking erotic detail! He has taken the 30ish Homey ultra hot nun on the Eros ride of a life time.

  "Please Quill, please on my mothers name allow me to come up for air and shower, freshen a bit. My goodness its been non stop with you. Your not popping blue pills, so how does that unit function at such a high rate Sir?" (hand rubbing together very slowly like a satiated seal.....)

  "Go a grab a quick lap in the rain room and get your perfect ass back here for round ten I believe?"

(Ahhhh, is this a dream for our Boy? Blond Nirvana he is ON A????)

Read about Fletcher Quill in earlier chapters:

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11
12 13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20
21 22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29
30 31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38
39 40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47
48  49  50  51  52  53  54  55  56
57  58  59  60  61  62  63  64  65

66  67


Written by Dan Fallon 2008
Illustrations by Phil Frank © 2003
Photos by Dan Fallon © 2008

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