My schedule is one that always rouses up questions from people who can’t quite comprehend a life on the road. “How do you do it?”, they ask.
“With a smile,” I truthfully reply.
I love being busy, I love new adventure, I love running to a tight flight and I love never knowing what to expect when my feet touch down in a new country.
My heart belongs amidst the vastness of BC and within 3 weeks of being away from her, admittedly the glow in my eyes begins to dull and the edges of my smile are just slightly less curved.
Like a drug to a user, BC is my fix but between sessions I am a girl who needs to run.
Over the years I have noticed a curiosity amongst those who read my work and I figured that an update and brief outline of a “Day in the Life of…” might be appropriate. Without further adieu, here is a glimpse of my life and where I have been this October.
Upon leaving the Dean, it would have been wrong for me to not pay the Skeena region a visit. With a continued desire to wake the foam poppers (see post below), I opted to catch fewer fish but more excitement and I held true to my word by leaving my sink tips at home. Colby and I hit the freeway.
The next morning, with a coffee in one hand and a history book in the other (I am currently completing my business degree via correspondence and am most focused during flights), I sat next to the Seattle airport window stretching and enjoying an unexpected rainbow that arced over the terminal. This was going to be a good trip… I could feel it. The warmth of my Starbucks touched my lips, the hustle of the airport behind me faded while the whole world just seemed to slow in perfect harmony.
I was on my way to New Brunswick where I was set to team up with Fredericton Outfitters for several schools with Atlantic Salmon enthusiasts. The shop was beautiful and the Munns (Chris and Caitlyn who own the shop) were instant friends as they met me at the airport. Caitlyn, 8.5 months pregnant extended her hand past her belly and her ‘to the point’ conversation made her an instant friend of mine… They welcomed me into their home and began to explain the week we had planned.
Our first stop was at the infamous Wilson’s Salmon camp on the Miramichi where I would teach 8 students the basics of casting and the specifics of the double haul.
The day was great fun and after taking a good hard fall on my ass in front of the class (leave it to Vibram soles), the mood was light and everyone was in high spirits.
The next day brought us to The Ledges where we repeated the days events from yesterday (minus the clumsiness) with new students.
After the class, the Miramichi was low but Chris and I had to give her a try. We met up with some of his friends at his cabin and after a hot toddy and some fresh duck, the lot of us headed out to try our luck at an Atlantic.
I swung and slowed my fly, applying steelhead tactics to my swing. Chris swung his fly fast through the current and picked up a jumping beauty behind me. With a squeal, laugh and curse, I made my way upstream to try again… downstream mend and all.
The bush crashed behind us and I turned petrified to peer into the yellow leaves. Please be a bear, please be a bear... bears, I know what to do with.
Chris and I both stood turned to the disruption behind us and I wondered just how limber moose were in the water. Soon, silence was all that shook the leaves and my heart rate lowered in time with my slight disappointment at the diversion of danger.
The next day was a repeat only without the salmon. This time, a large truck of filthy men carried in a hunted moose. New Brunswick has a three day hunting season for moose and there were hunters everywhere throughout the province.
Was that you making all of that commotion behind me?
The guys taught me how to call and howled as I put both hands in the air, swaying back and forth with a stupid face as I attempted to call in a mate.
Back at the home-front and accompanied by my new homegirl Caitlyn, we dove into a feast of lobster, mussels, potatoes and butter… New Brunswick style.
Damn, I love the maritime life!
I cooked alongside artist Catherine Munn, still flushed from the beautiful painting she kindly handed me upon our introduction. With paint still fresh, she glowed as she placed the artwork in my hands. Jaw dropped, slight blush, moist eyes and absolutely zero words to explain how I was feeling, she knew I was a collector and she added her talent to my collection.
Katy (her niece and a student from one of the classes earlier) had shown me one of her pieces upon arriving at the river and I had purchased it immediately as my eyes drowned in its melancholy. It had been painted at a jazz festival and the energy poured through the canvas and into me.
The following day, I had a date with some of the kids at a local elementary school. A banner hung from the entrance wall and my stomach did a flip as I read my name on the large display.
I began with an introduction and explained what steelhead are.
Soon it was time for us all to tie flies. The kids (who have quite possibly the best teachers in the world) were all supplied tying equipment and together, as a class, we all tied a marabou leech. It was hilarity and sheer chaos but the result was some beautiful flies, a sore face from laughing and enough feathers on the floor to dress an entire show of Vegas girls.
Alright! Let’s swim these!
Nice work everyone!
A short week later, it was off to Toronto to meet with caster Rick Whorwood of http://www.flycastingschool.com where he and G. Loomis had arranged a couple of tying classes, a couple of casting classes and an on the water school where each of us would drift 2 anglers down the Grand while helping them to understand efficient steelheading techniques.
First stop was First Cast Fly Shop in Guelph. I have worked with Ray and his shop in the past and can honestly tell you that if you live in the Toronto region, you simply must check them out. Integrity, professionalism and patience… this shop takes their relationships seriously.
I was later emailed by the young gent through the swim tank about his success with the fly that he tied in the class… check this out! Good for you Mike.
“Hey April, Just wanted to thank you again for teaching me the great intruder patterns, they are working great! We had a blast on Sunday and I had some great takes swinging. The second pic is actually the fly I tied at the class!
Good Luck with the classes/seminars this fall.
Mike”
Next, it was off to Rick’s place for a ladies casting workshop. We pulled an “underground” and met up in Rick’s garage close to a nearby park.
7 of the 8 ladies drove in from Quebec and a translator helped to remove the language barrier, Ashley (the 8th of the 8) and I both sat in sheer silence at times, lost in the french language and comedy of the group.
What I didn’t need a translator for was the ridiculous amount of laughing, sass and passion for the sport that each of these gals held. Ranging from 11 years old to their early 20’s, these french gals were good, damn good… I can tell you with confidence that this fishing industry is about to be struck with some serious talent.
I remember 10 years ago when another gal on the river was a “hallelujah” moment… I am so proud to look forward now and see just how far all of this pushing has gotten us.
