I look forward to this trip all year. My good friend John Chambers moved away around twenty years ago for work. First, he moved to Colorado, which was at least easier to go and visit him. My family and I went to see them, and we went fishing a couple of times. Then he moved to Texas, and it made it harder to visit. It wasn’t just a weekend trip over in the truck but an expensive fight for the whole family. As time has passed, his situation at work has gotten more flexible, and our kids have gotten older. We have started the tradition of him coming out every summer to go fishing. We have been doing this for the last six or seven years.

Through John, I also met another good friend and fishing accomplice, Bill Shore. Bill is a great angler and a lot of fun to be around. The three of us together make for a good trio on the boat. However, if we could get Bill to learn how to row, that would be nice. 

John flew in on Sunday afternoon, and it was nice to visit with him and catch up on life. We don’t talk that often in a year’s time. Guys are just that way. We can go months without talking, pick up where we left off, and never miss a beat. Of course, we never talk about anything important. A forty-five-minute conversation about fishing is not uncommon. 

We were scheduled to head out early Monday morning, but of course, he had to be on some Zoom meeting before we left. I guess he’s some big deal at his work, so he couldn’t miss it. I finished getting ready while he was on his call and by the time he was done I had everything ready to go. I kissed my wife goodbye and we headed out. 

The first river we stopped at, Bill and I call Dos Equis. It’s a spot we like to keep a secret. So we gave it a code name. It’s a great river with decent-sized Browns. We can be on the river within a couple of hours from our house. As soon as we got to the river we spotted some nice fish. Bill casted some dries at them but they weren’t interested and disappeared back into the depths of the river. We put John in a spot that has historically been a consistent producer. It was slower than normal, but after some persistence, he hooked up on a seventeen, eighteen-inch brown. 

While John was fishing in that spot, I went downriver to another good hole to see if I could get anything out of it. No dice; despite my best efforts, it didn’t produce anything. The rest of the day proved the same way. The river was just slow. We fished it until dark and called it a day. We grabbed a hamburger in town and called it a day. The next morning was slow too. Bill caught one while he was slurping tiny flies as they came over his head. But after that, nothing. Around noon, we decided to head for the Green River. We could get in a float before dark if we arrived on time.

It was a nice float. We got on the river around five-thirty. John and Bill both caught a few decent fish. Bill’s was on a dry around 12-18 inches off the bank. John caught his on a big hopper dropper rig in cobble with a foot or two of water. For the next couple of days, we did two floats a day. One in the morning and one in the afternoon trying to be on the river when it was the most optimal temperature-wise. Getting off the river midday it was already in the mid-nineties. 

Fishing was good. It wasn’t hot by any means and not cold. Just enough to keep things interesting. The trip’s highlights were John falling out of the back of the boat while he was filming me trying to leave a beer on a low bridge. I watched a guide from Spinner Fall guild service out of Dutch John on Instagram take a beer, then leave a beer on the beams as he floated by. So I thought I would give it a try. I struck out twice trying to leave one, but was able to grab one. I owe the bridge a beer. I have a Yeti cooler with a seat screwed to it in the back of the boat. And as we floated under the bridge it has just a little drop to it with some rapids and John sat back at the wrong time, the seat tipped backward and he couldn’t stop it as he fell out of the boat. The best part is he got the whole thing on his phone.  

I guess it was bound to happen eventually. I’ve had a lot of close calls with flies getting close to getting stuck in someone’s face on my boat. This trip we sealed the deal. The wind was blowing just enough, it was making the boat stay at an angle that John was casting towards the back of the boat.  A cast with a little too much slack in it and the right amount of wind with Bill’s face in the way, and it all came together. A wireworm in Bill’s eyelid! I’m still not sure how it happened. He had a cowboy hat on with glasses. But leave it to John to find a way. 

All in all it was a great trip!