The Most Pure of Pursuits (an unsolicited letter to fellow guides)

There are a myriad of opinions on what place and role guides serve in the greater angling community. Those opinions range from almighty gate keepers of knowledge and mystery, shamans of the water (a view promoted mostly by the “industry” for their own purposes); to snake oil salesmen who foolishly drink their own elixirs, to burn out old dirt bags, to clueless and comically over confident twenty somethings convinced that they have some how, against all odds, obtained or have been blessed by the universe with some innate “fishiness” that others lack.  

While I dream of being the former, I have to be honest that I have been, and probably still am, somewhere in the latter.  

Hubris is healthy in a fishing guide.  At the end of the day its confidence, more than anything, that catches fish.  And a a guide’s ability to exude and instill that confidence in his customer is very important , if even if one has to fake it to make it.   The irony is that some of us are so good at it we start to believe our own bullshit.  It’s at this point that the laces on our boots untie and send us tripping head first into the deep hole of self delusion.  The greatest of those delusions being ownership of waters, and often combined with a lack of regard.

Let us be perfectly honest.  Fishing is a consumptive activity, even if you are letting them go, and doing it for money is an extractive industry whether you like it or not.  Rail against mines, pipelines, logging operations and any other capitalist monster you wish;  but make no mistake; there is no such thing as “leave no trace” in the outdoor industry.  

Everything from your DWR clothing, your water proof breathable outer shells, your high modulus graphite, your knobby oversized tires, your fossil fueled behemoth of conveyance, your sharp little hooks in the faces of surprised and confused creatures, your foot prints in the sand, and your stench in the woods; has an impact.   It makes a mark and it changes things.  You are part and party to that environment be it water, woods, or trail.  And if you are doing all of this for money? Well, …You know what I’m saying. 

We all see this and recognize it, even when we fail to acknowledge it.  I know this because I hear it and read it.  The latest industry trade magazine featured an article, about an article, that was written in the New York Times.  The Time’s article focused on the impact the large crowds have had on woods and waters this past year.  The trade magazine had written a previous article about the same thing, and this of course was my favorite quote from that article.  “Retailers and guides: I said it before and I will say it again: now is your chance to prove your roles as truly valuable “influencers” and gatekeepers, and remain relevant in the market mix.  If you don’t truly “influence,”  some hotshot with two years experience and an Instagram account will.”

Jeezus Man!  Don’t hurt anybody’s feelings.  

While this article focused on the flood of individuals headed to the woods and waters in a time of panic and pandemic, and asked the question of what to do about it.  It’s not just in years like 2020 or after blockbuster movies that this dragon of “overcrowding” awakes and rears its head. This is pretty much par for the course on any piece of water anywhere, and just about anytime. I bet it’s the same in rock climbing, mountain biking, and white water rafting too.  Its just a bit more exacerbated when all our blathering and bloviating about how great the Great Outdoors is finally takes hold, and folks actually show up to find out what it is we’ve been gushing about.  And while crowds are difficult, individuals can be just as infuriating when they are not “where they are supposed to be.”

What was it Gierach said? “There are only two kinds of anglers. Those in your party, and the assholes.”

I had another conversation just this morning, with a fellow guide, about anglers who spend too much time on a particular river, or in a particular spot on a river.  This isn’t the first time Ive had this conversation with another guide about a local angler who happens to make our jobs harder, because he has the time and proficiency to do so.  More than once I’ve listened to this complaint from other guides, and if I’m being honest, more than once I’ve expressed the same frustration, with out properly considering how selfish, obtuse, and hypocritical my bitching and moaning was.  

ASIDE:  To this fellow guide’s credit, and my enjoyment, he acknowledged “I know you’re right, I just don’t like hearing it.”  

Those damn loose laces.  They trip us all, and that deep dark hole is the delusion that somehow the rivers, waters, woods, and trails belong to us.  Because we spend so much time out there, because we were the “first” to do it or find it (a laughable concept).  Because we have figured out something no one else, or only a few select individuals know, and are privy to that information because of our hard work, or membership in an elite club (an equally or more laughable concept).  Because we are the chosen and special few, who traded economic security for the enlightenment of existential freedom.  Because we work a job for little pay that affords us the chance to do what others only do on their overpriced vacations. Because of all these things we are given a level of ownership and authority over the waters and woods that others only occasionally experience, and this ownership and authority somehow bestows upon us the privilege of possession.  

I suppose it’s natural to fall prey to these fallacies.  Everyone want’s to be special.  The author included. It is with regret and disappointment that we acknowledge the truth.  The woods and waters do not belong to us.  They belong to everyone and no one.  Private property will eventually change hands enough times that the idea of ownership is moot.  Public lands and waters are by their very design the birthright and privilege of every mortal thing.  All rivers, streams, rocks and grains of sand exist on a plane of geologic scale and time, and view our intrusions as no more than a Buddhist sand mandala.    

A man is where he chooses to be, or where circumstances have placed him for the moment.  If that spot happens to be in your way while you are trying to make money, try to remember that he is likely there for his soul.  Your money being ephemeral, and his soul being eternal (should you believe in such things).  Which is the most pure of pursuits?