In 1998 I took the deep dive into this sport we all love so much. I had dabbled in it for several years as a kid. My dad had some fond memories of a trip to a fly fishing only lake that his stepdad had taken him to when he was a kid. My dad took me there a few times as well when I was a kid, but we never had any success catching fish and the hook wasn't set. I was intrigued but not committed. A trip to Montana in 1993 moved me closer but the whole thing felt a little like voodoo as I hadn't caught a fish using this stuff. I stuck to conventional fishing methods for most of my outings as it took a few more years before I became immersed.
My wife bought me a float tube for my birthday in 1998. It was the first birthday I had as a married man and I know there were days she regretted that gift. That tube got me onto a lake for the first time as a fly fisherman. A full sinking line with a Wooley bugger "trolled" behind me turned voodoo into reality...I started catching fish! After a decade of dabbling in the sport I had finally arrived as a true fly fisherman and I lost all interest in any other kind of fishing. That addiction also alienated me from my, at the time, fishing friends until one fortunate day on the Spokane river where I met what would turn out to be my new fishing partner and "best friend". His name is Matt.
I lived close to the river back then and catching fish in a river is what I really wanted to do. I liked lake fishing because I knew how to catch fish but in my mind, the pinnacle of fly fishing was catching trout in moving water on a dry fly. I was in that stage where I believed you weren't a "real fly fisherman" until you were able to do this. I was making regular trips to the river and I was having a tiny little bit of success.
There is a caddis hatch that happens after dark on the Spokane River. At the time, I was completely unaware of the hatch, but my previous fishing experience had taught me that the closer to dark it gets, the more fish you catch. One evening in June, I head down to my favorite spot with the intention of fishing until dark. When I arrive, there are 3 other fishermen already in the area I wanted to be in. This was a big back eddy, and I couldn't cast well enough or mend my line properly to be effective unless I was at the head of the eddy, but those spots were taken, so I jumped in below everyone and fished what was available. As dark began to approach the two fishermen between me and the guy at the top of the run reel up and head out. As soon as they get boots out of the water, I start creeping my way towards the guy at the top of the hole. Shortly after they leave caddis start to pop and fish are rising.
The order of the next events is a little fuzzy, so I'll tell this as I like to remember it. The guy at the top of the run hooks up and shortly after, I hook up. It could have easily been the reverse but Matt was always a better fisherman than me so it seems right to tell it as him catching the first fish of the evening. At any rate, we eventually move closer and closer together. We hadn't spoken a word to one another yet but at some point he says to me, "can you believe those morons left before the show started?". I took that comment as him knowing this hatch was going to happen and insinuating that I knew as well, which I didn't but I played along. We continued to catch fish well into dark and eventually the bite died. We introduced ourselves as we climbed up the bank for the hike out.
When we got back to our rigs, we continued the conversation and I learned that he worked part time at the ski shop downtown. It just happened to be across the street from the fly shop, and he was trying to get a job there to round out his schedule. This guy was a dude! He drove a Volkswagen bus, he was a ski racer who worked at a ski shop, he was a really good fly fisherman AND he might soon work at a fly shop...can you say man crush? I forgot to mention all the fish he caught that night were caught on flies he tied with a rod he built. We swapped phone numbers and within a week or two we were back out fishing again.
Eventually Matt got that job at the fly shop! I don't know if that was a good or bad thing in the long run because he wound up quitting school and the ski shop but it was great for our fishing schedule. His employee discount, access to boats that neither of us could afford, and a constant flow of new intel from customers who loved to brag, took us to a whole new level of fishing success. We were so awesome!
I was unemployed at the time, and my wife was supporting us working a full-time job. I was supposed to be spending my days studying for a battery of exams that would allow me to start my professional career. The problem with studying was that I had gained some private access to the fabled Crab Creek and instead of studying for my exams, Matt and I were earning a PhD in spring creek fishing. I have no idea how many days we spent on that creek over the course of that spring/summer, but it got to the point where we assigned some fish names. In particular a one eyed 32" brown trout we named "Eyegone", on account of his size and his missing eye. The name "Eyegone" sounded cool to us. In full disclosure, neither Matt or I caught that fish, but we were there the day when the legend of "big fish Brad" was born and Matt took the photograph. Brad let Matt take a picture with the fish before it’s release…that’s the photo below.
Eventually, Matt and I started to spread our fishing wings. We went to Idaho and Montana to fish the famous places we've all been to and we had some great adventures. Somewhere along the way Matt also got married. It was the first and only time I've been the best man at a wedding. I had a feeling that day was going to change everything for us as Matt's new wife didn't have the same attitude towards our fishing relationship as my wife.
Sadly, my gut was right. We fished fewer and fewer days until one day it had been 10 years since we had been fishing. We also saw each other less and less, we spoke on the phone less and less and before we knew it a year would go by without any communication. I would call or text and get crickets. One day I started referring to him as a friend I used to have. We never had an argument or cross word he was just always too busy, and I grew tired of keeping the relationship alive. I didn't have any social media presence then, but my wife did and she kept me up to date on his life based on whatever his wife posted on Facebook.
About 18 months ago I see his name pop up on my phone, so I answer it. We make some small talk for a while and eventually he starts to tell me the real reason behind his call. He's in a bad spot and he just needs his old friend. His wife is out of the picture, he's spent some time living in his car, he has some health issues etc. Matt was never a great communicator so I don't totally understand what's going on, but I let him know that whatever he needs he can call me. The call was REALLY weird, but I was SO happy to be back in communication with my old friend. We start having weekly communication and that's awesome but now I'm starting to pick up on something things that just don't seem right. He tells me that he has an old neighbor who's helping him and I ask if I can speak to this person. He puts us in contact and after speaking to her she confirms that my concerns are real as she believes Matt might have Alzheimer's.
A million doctors' appointments and a few months later he receives the devastating diagnosis that he has early onset Alzheimer's at 53. This version is different than the kind older people get. This one goes fast and you die from it not with it. To top it all off, he's now in the middle of a divorce and not allowed to see his kids. Fortunately for Matt, his old neighbor is part saint, part pitbull and she's figuring things out. She gets in touch with all of his old friends, gets him legal help, gets him into a home, and coordinates all the parts of his life that he's no longer capable of.
In the spring his doctor told him, if he had stuff he wanted to do, he needed to do it this summer while he was still capable, so he made a bucket list. Of course, one of the items on the list was to fish. He hadn't fished in several years and he wanted to do a float somewhere cool. I had the pleasure of being the friend who got to take him on his final fishing trip. Wednesday, we did that trip. We floated the Alberton Gorge on the Clark Fork River. We chucked grasshoppers all day and bounced through a few class 3 rapids. About 10 minutes into the float, we doubled up on a pair of 18' rainbows, and it was glorious for a minute or two. At this stage of his disease, he isn't able to fish like he used to and of course he doesn't remember much about it, but it's something that I'll never forget.
Going on this trip consumed my thoughts leading up to it and t's all I've thought about since we got back. It’s a weird thing; doing something with someone for the last time knowing in advance that it will be the last time. It was way more of a gift to me than it was to him. I also realize that writing this report is much more about me processing my relationship with my friend than it is of any benefit to the reader. It was hard to write...if you read it and you have an old fishing buddy you haven't fished with in a while...GO FISHING!
My wife bought me a float tube for my birthday in 1998. It was the first birthday I had as a married man and I know there were days she regretted that gift. That tube got me onto a lake for the first time as a fly fisherman. A full sinking line with a Wooley bugger "trolled" behind me turned voodoo into reality...I started catching fish! After a decade of dabbling in the sport I had finally arrived as a true fly fisherman and I lost all interest in any other kind of fishing. That addiction also alienated me from my, at the time, fishing friends until one fortunate day on the Spokane river where I met what would turn out to be my new fishing partner and "best friend". His name is Matt.
I lived close to the river back then and catching fish in a river is what I really wanted to do. I liked lake fishing because I knew how to catch fish but in my mind, the pinnacle of fly fishing was catching trout in moving water on a dry fly. I was in that stage where I believed you weren't a "real fly fisherman" until you were able to do this. I was making regular trips to the river and I was having a tiny little bit of success.
There is a caddis hatch that happens after dark on the Spokane River. At the time, I was completely unaware of the hatch, but my previous fishing experience had taught me that the closer to dark it gets, the more fish you catch. One evening in June, I head down to my favorite spot with the intention of fishing until dark. When I arrive, there are 3 other fishermen already in the area I wanted to be in. This was a big back eddy, and I couldn't cast well enough or mend my line properly to be effective unless I was at the head of the eddy, but those spots were taken, so I jumped in below everyone and fished what was available. As dark began to approach the two fishermen between me and the guy at the top of the run reel up and head out. As soon as they get boots out of the water, I start creeping my way towards the guy at the top of the hole. Shortly after they leave caddis start to pop and fish are rising.
The order of the next events is a little fuzzy, so I'll tell this as I like to remember it. The guy at the top of the run hooks up and shortly after, I hook up. It could have easily been the reverse but Matt was always a better fisherman than me so it seems right to tell it as him catching the first fish of the evening. At any rate, we eventually move closer and closer together. We hadn't spoken a word to one another yet but at some point he says to me, "can you believe those morons left before the show started?". I took that comment as him knowing this hatch was going to happen and insinuating that I knew as well, which I didn't but I played along. We continued to catch fish well into dark and eventually the bite died. We introduced ourselves as we climbed up the bank for the hike out.
When we got back to our rigs, we continued the conversation and I learned that he worked part time at the ski shop downtown. It just happened to be across the street from the fly shop, and he was trying to get a job there to round out his schedule. This guy was a dude! He drove a Volkswagen bus, he was a ski racer who worked at a ski shop, he was a really good fly fisherman AND he might soon work at a fly shop...can you say man crush? I forgot to mention all the fish he caught that night were caught on flies he tied with a rod he built. We swapped phone numbers and within a week or two we were back out fishing again.
Eventually Matt got that job at the fly shop! I don't know if that was a good or bad thing in the long run because he wound up quitting school and the ski shop but it was great for our fishing schedule. His employee discount, access to boats that neither of us could afford, and a constant flow of new intel from customers who loved to brag, took us to a whole new level of fishing success. We were so awesome!
I was unemployed at the time, and my wife was supporting us working a full-time job. I was supposed to be spending my days studying for a battery of exams that would allow me to start my professional career. The problem with studying was that I had gained some private access to the fabled Crab Creek and instead of studying for my exams, Matt and I were earning a PhD in spring creek fishing. I have no idea how many days we spent on that creek over the course of that spring/summer, but it got to the point where we assigned some fish names. In particular a one eyed 32" brown trout we named "Eyegone", on account of his size and his missing eye. The name "Eyegone" sounded cool to us. In full disclosure, neither Matt or I caught that fish, but we were there the day when the legend of "big fish Brad" was born and Matt took the photograph. Brad let Matt take a picture with the fish before it’s release…that’s the photo below.
Eventually, Matt and I started to spread our fishing wings. We went to Idaho and Montana to fish the famous places we've all been to and we had some great adventures. Somewhere along the way Matt also got married. It was the first and only time I've been the best man at a wedding. I had a feeling that day was going to change everything for us as Matt's new wife didn't have the same attitude towards our fishing relationship as my wife.
Sadly, my gut was right. We fished fewer and fewer days until one day it had been 10 years since we had been fishing. We also saw each other less and less, we spoke on the phone less and less and before we knew it a year would go by without any communication. I would call or text and get crickets. One day I started referring to him as a friend I used to have. We never had an argument or cross word he was just always too busy, and I grew tired of keeping the relationship alive. I didn't have any social media presence then, but my wife did and she kept me up to date on his life based on whatever his wife posted on Facebook.
About 18 months ago I see his name pop up on my phone, so I answer it. We make some small talk for a while and eventually he starts to tell me the real reason behind his call. He's in a bad spot and he just needs his old friend. His wife is out of the picture, he's spent some time living in his car, he has some health issues etc. Matt was never a great communicator so I don't totally understand what's going on, but I let him know that whatever he needs he can call me. The call was REALLY weird, but I was SO happy to be back in communication with my old friend. We start having weekly communication and that's awesome but now I'm starting to pick up on something things that just don't seem right. He tells me that he has an old neighbor who's helping him and I ask if I can speak to this person. He puts us in contact and after speaking to her she confirms that my concerns are real as she believes Matt might have Alzheimer's.
A million doctors' appointments and a few months later he receives the devastating diagnosis that he has early onset Alzheimer's at 53. This version is different than the kind older people get. This one goes fast and you die from it not with it. To top it all off, he's now in the middle of a divorce and not allowed to see his kids. Fortunately for Matt, his old neighbor is part saint, part pitbull and she's figuring things out. She gets in touch with all of his old friends, gets him legal help, gets him into a home, and coordinates all the parts of his life that he's no longer capable of.
In the spring his doctor told him, if he had stuff he wanted to do, he needed to do it this summer while he was still capable, so he made a bucket list. Of course, one of the items on the list was to fish. He hadn't fished in several years and he wanted to do a float somewhere cool. I had the pleasure of being the friend who got to take him on his final fishing trip. Wednesday, we did that trip. We floated the Alberton Gorge on the Clark Fork River. We chucked grasshoppers all day and bounced through a few class 3 rapids. About 10 minutes into the float, we doubled up on a pair of 18' rainbows, and it was glorious for a minute or two. At this stage of his disease, he isn't able to fish like he used to and of course he doesn't remember much about it, but it's something that I'll never forget.
Going on this trip consumed my thoughts leading up to it and t's all I've thought about since we got back. It’s a weird thing; doing something with someone for the last time knowing in advance that it will be the last time. It was way more of a gift to me than it was to him. I also realize that writing this report is much more about me processing my relationship with my friend than it is of any benefit to the reader. It was hard to write...if you read it and you have an old fishing buddy you haven't fished with in a while...GO FISHING!
