Lessons in Trout Fishing: From Grandpa Cheza to Artie Snow

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My Grandpa Cheza introduced me to trout, but it was Artie Snow who taught me how to catch them. Chez took me to a fair, or a bazaar, or some other carny-type outing at the Hickory Plaza, in Western PA, where I grew up, where they had a kid's pool filled with water and a bunch of fish. Kids got to put an earthworm on a hook and swish it around in the pool expecting that a fish would eat it and then the kid would get to take it home for his grandmother to cook. He called them Speckled Trout, but I'm pretty sure they were Rainbows. I had a spinner and an ultra-light rig when I was sloshing around New Hampshire with Artie. He was a fly fisherman; the Ted Trueblood type. I caught one of those Rainbow Trout and thought it was a pretty good looking …show more content…

Well I did it, not knowing any better, and caught a fish. Actually, I caught a gorgeous Brook Trout; my first ever. I had, that day a thought, that the Brook Trout is God's most beautiful creation, and that if He made anything more beautiful than that, well...he kept it for himself. Thirty years later I haven't been able to talk myself out of that opinion. This fish was about 12 inches long, (thirty years later) and was creek-stone colored on top with wormlike markings and a brass-toned underbelly. The top markings blended into the undersides and it had salmon spots and sky-blue rings around them, sky-blue for God's sake, just under the lateral line; its eyes were copper, and it gills were gently flaring, fish-blood red. It was an incredible sight, and I was grateful for that fish. I took a moment then, to tell the universe that I was grateful. (I am actually certain we had a bunch of beer that day.) It was a prayer of sorts, one where I just acknowledged to no particular individual, idol, entity, or deity the special moment I was enjoying; I do that now every time I catch a fish. I'm not sure if I get credit for it, like if you go to Mass on Saturday; like if it counts for your Sunday attendance or anything, but it sure is a lot easier to tolerate from my perspective and I do an awful lot more of …show more content…

The fish had a look of sorrow as if it had let the Universe down by being silly enough to confuse a bit of metal with something naturally provided for its sustenance. While I was grateful for its capture, we were both grateful for its release. I didn't actually get to see the grateful look as the fish disappeared, quicksilver like, and left me there with my own grateful self. I caught no more fish that day, but Artie did, and from that time on I was captivated by fly fishing. It took me awhile to get capable of it. It took even longer to get passable at it. Nowadays I can actually teach folks how to do it, including my girl Sammie. I've heard it said that you understand a concept when you can describe it to your grandmother in a manner that she can understand. Both mine had dearly departed before I had a chance to test that theory; It did work on Sammie though, who some days out fishes me. I have gotten to the point where I love to fly fish even without catching fish. I love where trout live. I love the bugs they eat. I know their names in Latin...Baetis, Tricorythodes, Heptageniidae. I'm grateful for that trip with Artie, and more grateful for the fish I catch, then set free. I can never be grateful enough for the sacrifices

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