Colby and I had two days to get back to the mainland, catch up with family, pack for another month of “off-roading” and make sure that business was running smoothly.
I had originally scheduled September to be my month of stability… my new property sat blossomed by summer, waiting for me to groom its field, cut its deadwood, revive its old boat launch and become familiar with its sprawling riverfront and the steelhead who lay within it.
The trailer was renovated and ready for the move… the rental truck scheduled for pickup in Kamloops on my way home from the Dean.
I’d counted down the days where I could wake up on my own schedule, pour a gourd of yerba mate and look out at the riverfront that I had worked so hard over the years to obtain…
…But in true “workaholic” fashion, I had somehow managed to schedule September to be hectic and as quick as the steam of my hot tea evaporated into thin air, so did my aspirations of having any free time.
Playing devil’s advocate with the marked calendar days, I juggled open hours with commitments and obligations, scheduling just enough time to check on Fly Gal guests in Terrace, give a quick presentation to non-residents who weren’t fishing over the weekend, and host two back to back film crews.
Mr. Blue Eyes flew in to give me a hand and Catherine made the journey North to ease the workload.
Catherine LaFlamme is a BC resident and Fly Gal’s rock when I am on the road and/or the river. Keeping up with emails, office administration, bookings and inventory, Catherine keeps the company locked down. Blue Eyes on the other hand lives across the world but has the steelhead bug as bad as I do.
A non-resident, it is illegal for me to fish with him (or any other non-resident) as a licensed guide on a classified river without being an owner of rod days.
Retiring my guide license until the next year’s winter steelhead season, Tourism Smithers (a sponsor for one of the films) was thrilled that we could utilize a non-resident on the Bulkley and the two of us were able to fish together without being hassled with politics or legalities.
I met him in Vancouver and the two of us hitched up the truck to made the fourteen hour journey North where we would take three days to unwind and get some fishing in before the first film crew was scheduled to arrive.
We pulled in to an overgrown field… I had purchased the property during the dead of winter and on my visits there thus far, it had always been chilled by heavy snow cover. As we flattened the overgrown hay field with the trailer, my stomach fluttered with excitement.
Colby and I ran through the wild terrain and my cheeks flushed like a young girl at the thought of having a home. I couldn’t control my excitement and grabbing my awestruck visitor by the hand, I skipped him down the short path to the river. We both stood there in shock.
The water was literally at our fingertips and broke at large boulders and smooth seams that I was certain held fish. The sun hit my face and I closed my eyes to allow the orange glow to make its way into my mind. Blue Eyes let out a deep laugh at my delight and brushed my loose wisps of hair behind my ears… my eyes sparkled and my shoulders relaxed. I had finally Landed.
Water was low and clear in the Skeena region and alarm slowly voiced itself through the valley. Fish were in but not in staggering numbers… I prepped the crew on what this meant for the fishing.
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them…
It was earlier this year that my phone had rung with an inquiry from a producer at CBS’s 60 Minutes Sports.
They were interested in shooting a story with myself, my company and some of our ventures. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think much of it.
Over the past few years there has been a plethora of media outlets and fishing companies trying to jump on the ‘women in fly-fishing’ band wagon. As was expected, this demand has been met and every time I seem to log onto the internet, there is a new femme fatale blog or FaceBook page.
I smile to myself at the days where I received such criticism for my “Fly Gal” business and breathe a little easier now with the alleviated pressure of such new arrivals. Mission accomplished, I suppose.
So when the kind voice on the other end asked if they may join me on a trip or two, I hummed and hawed a little. I really didn’t need/want the exposure… but on the other hand, this was a huge outlet and demographic of people who didn’t already spend time in nature that I could possibly expose the outdoors to.
I battled within myself and prepared to drop the entire negotiation when the show wanted to film on the Dean… a fishery that (at the time) didn’t need the publicity… (if I’d have known the devastation that we were to face there this summer, I may have changed my mind).
Regardless, I felt that with the Enbridge debate and the conservation threats in the valley, the Skeena could use the publicity and I agreed to film with them on the Bulkley.
So as we moved the process forward, the guys arranged to join me on a week-long permit fishing trip to Belize and then accompany me to my place on the Bulkley for another week.
Of course I felt for them… two difficult fisheries for a dedicated crew of six who I would eventually drag through uncomfortable terrain, hot sun and fishless days.
They had sent in renowned and seasoned host Bill Whitaker, alongside producer Marc Lieberman and camera men/crew Don, Ron, Chris, Eric and Jack…
I immediately fell in love with the team. Professional, kind, honest and genuine, we shared stories, laughs and moments with each other during the shoot. They stayed out of my way and allowed me to live my life as I would without them there while I was on the water.
I cursed at the awful wind in Belize, loved and hated bonefish, loved and hated permit and waited for them to hit me with the age-old “what is it like to be a woman in the sport?” Sigh…
But as we hit the flats one morning, Bill and I engaged in a heart to heart and I felt like I had been kicked in my stomach as I let him know that I was unaware of the stats on license sales on how many women were taking up fishing…
“April, this isn’t a story about women in the sport… this is a story about you.” There was silence. I stopped; my face frozen in sudden realization.
Holy hell, these guys weren’t here to ask me the obvious… these guys were here for me!
I looked around at their smiling faces and glowing positivity… my body continued to numb. For me!? Oh God… Why?
“I’m just a girl who fishes…” Bill smiled kindly at me and the pressure set in for the week.
I spent the next seven days getting to know the guys and partaking in meaningful conversation. I learned about their fascinating lives, their beautiful families, their time on the road.
Comfort set in and my guard eventually lowered, allowing them to be privy to my most vulnerable moments and my ‘relaxed guard’.
We had secured a friendship and I simply could not wait to get the guys out to BC to show them around my backyard.
We had teamed with Frontiers Farwest in Telkwa to have enough man power to shuttle the crew around.
Like a scene from Entourage, three large white suburbans followed behind my muddy Ford as we pulled into the beautiful lodge and began part two of our film.
Fishing stayed tricky but I refused to quit…
Not surprisingly, my casting fell apart, my censored vocabulary soon became non-existent and aches crept into my shoulders… phlegm crept into rapidly swelling glands and my temperature skyrocketed into a fever. Of course, I was sick…
But the show must go on and I raided the crews medical bag, tried to keep hydrated, popped flu pills and prayed that I didn’t pass it to the guys (whose travel schedules are even worse than mine)…
They were already feeling the pain of the harsh elements outdoors.
A much needed lunch break.
It was a heatwave, their gear was excruciatingly heavy and the days were long… I fished like there was no tomorrow and chuckled every time I turned around to see their painful smiles at my determination.
Pros like none other, I felt nothing but love for these guys and knew it was going to be a sad day when they had to leave.
On our final day together, I raced to the interview location and tried to clean up in the bathroom before taking a seat across from the ever classy Bill.
I had been living in the trailer all week, showering in cold water and brushing my hair with my fingers. We had two hours before I had to be at Oscar’s for a presentation on swinging flies for steelhead.
Bill smiled warmly at me from across the room, his kind eyes sparkling and his soft smile comforting. He held a list of questions… questions that I had no idea were coming.
I giggled at the formality of it all and prepared to cure his curiosity about my struggle in the industry and with Fly Gal. He had done his research, had certainly spent some time on Google, and had read all of my blogs. He was organized and unafraid to ask me tough questions… I would have been disappointed if it had been any other way.
True to form, I answered his inquiries honestly and tried to smother my confusion as he read off ignorant comments from haters & nay-sayers who were quick to make assumptions about my career and about me as a person. Baffled by the ridiculousness of it all, I felt my skin grow an extra layer as we entered into the next stage of the interview.
Moving forward, we spoke about the wonderful areas of the sport, the outdoors, the industry, the future… I opened up to him about my determination to live my life as best I could alongside my hopes to encourage others to try outdoor exploration and follow their hearts to their dreams (even when everyone else said it isn’t possible).
The clock ticked forward and I had to run to my presentation… big hugs and genuine smiles filled the room as I grabbed my bag and hit the road. The guys were off to visit my folks in the lower mainland and listen to my Dad boast about his girl. I couldn’t help but wish them luck…
The segment airs tomorrow (November 6th, 2013) on ShowTime. The trailer can be seen here:
As the evening rolled around, the 60 Minutes guys departed and Nick Pujic & Victor Cooper of VP Media House rolled in.
Pujic and I go way back… from our days as co-workers with the Canadian Fly Fisher magazine, we had started our filming together with tiny handheld cameras and extreme budget restrictions.
He had watched me grow into an accomplished angler and I had watched him grow into one of the best business men in the industry.
We had needed each other in many ways back then and now, a decade later, we still take pride in being a collaborative team.
We had agreed to film a submission for the International Fly Fishing Film Festival and bring awareness to basic conservation concerns plaguing BC’s steelhead.
With the new rise of the Dean’s battle (and our plan not ready to push forward until next year), we had our hands tied as to how hard we could confront the issue at hand so we agreed upon a raw and genuine piece about the comforts and importance of finally settling into the life that I had tried so hard over the years to build for myself.
Cameraman Victor Cooper and I sang around the campfire, filmed from dawn to dusk and worked like heck in the tough conditions to hook a fish or two. It was the most I had ever opened up to a powered-on camera and I allowed them to see into my world much more so than I had ever done before.
The guys helped around the property, taking down wasps nests, helping with boats, fire-pits and the organization of a “house-warming” party for fellow steelheaders who were in the area.
We only had three days to film and I quickly felt foolish as I realized that the whole time I had been chasing steelhead with the 60 Minutes crew, the fish were literally right outside my front door!
It would appear that my camp water was one of the most productive stretches of water on the river so we hung out at the property for the next two days.
Music rights prohibited us from using the soundtracks that we sought out for our short film (if a film is to be used in any sort of profiting production such as a film festival, it is required to have permission by the record label… unless it is a song whose composer has been dead for over 50 years).
As I hummed melodies along the river bank, Victor Cooper (the other camera man) pitched the idea of a collaborative campfire jam and we laid a whiskey-laced hymn from underneath Puj’s camera microphone…
Fishing stayed difficult but I was in good company, surprisingly comfortable considering how exposing this piece was; my man, my “home”, my staff…
View the “Landed” trailer here:
But relationships have their perks and as Pujic was like a brother to me, there were few secrets between the two of us.
I was sad to see them leave.
It was heartbreaking leaving the Bulkley Valley… my small trailer with its broken shower and tiny generator, the luxurious outdoor pinecone bathroom, the lack of internet (thankfully Iridium quickly came to the rescue), the cold mornings and creeping wildlife… while our time there had certainly been busy, we had made unique memories and explored newly claimed territory that I plan to build on and one day hand down to my children.
The disappointment didn’t last long though… I had a ticket booked to Australia, a country that I had wanted to visit from my first days as a dreaming traveler.
Grabbing the pre-packed saltwater bag from my storage unit, the next morning Colby, Blue Eyes and I were on our way back to Chilliwack where “Grandma and Grandpa” would watch their furry grandson while I trekked around down under, trying to avoid snakes, dingos and bull-sharks…
I was about to enter a whole new world… Part two coming soon!
~AV
