As I am sitting at Christmas Eve service, my mind reflects on the past year. Some memorable fish, excellent trips with good friends, and stellar moments on the water. Coupled by bitter-sweetness in the loss of my father and the wish I had more time spent on the water with him. Then I think about salvation. I would like to believe if the rapture were to occur next week, I would have a better than average chance of ‘getting clearance’ — not because of the good deeds I have done or the quality of life I have led, or even the benevolence I have shown towards God’s wonderful creatures; but because I have spent countless days learning patience while casting my 3-weight at dozens of upper-class trout that would have no part of my offerings. Along with the many hours dedicated to helping and sharing my passion with family and friends the art of the fly, maybe this is the repentance for the multitude of hours I formerly squandered in dirty bars of my younger days?

This all began when I received a Christmas card a few weeks back. In it were the words, “Too bad every time we talk, all you can talk about is fishing. Like that’s all there is in life.”

Funny, but not. I have been dwelling on this for days. I know I should not let it rent space in my head, but then other things people have said pop into my brain. Things like, “I had to delete you from my ‘friends’ on Facebook because all you ever post is about fishing or rivers or tying flies.”

I was OK with that and have  not accepted friend requests because they didn’t have proper fishing credentials to be allowed in the circle, so they were permitted to deny my ‘friendship’ status. But the Christmas Card — that struck a chord, and it was becoming a tenant in my head. HAVE YOU MET ME?

Whenever I drive by an empty retail shop,  in my head, I already have the layout for a fly shop, where I can set up the TV monitors so we can have TU movie nights and extra tables for a Tie-One-On! fly tying nights. I have gone over countless inventories for the start up materials needed for a successful shop — it needs a good balance of high-end and entry-level equipment, it needs to have monthly events to draw in people and a warm staff and fresh coffee always brewing. On the flip side I would give up this life in paradise tourist town to live in the mountains along some stream with hopes of starting a lodge or B&B to invite others into my world of addiction. There, I said it. I have admitted I am addicted to all things FLY.

This all began when I received a Christmas card a few weeks back. In it were the words, “Too bad every time we talk, all you can talk about is fishing. Like that’s all there is in life.”

Last week it became all too clear. Channel 34 — Discovery, it was after work and I enjoy a diet coke and slowing down from the hectic pace of taking care of everyone else’s needs and desires. The program was on Addictions. These people were legit crazy. They had given away everything. They would work every angle, every minute, to find a way to their next high. I am grateful I am not like that  [or am I?]  I do think every minute about how to tie that Hendrickson pattern a little better or a stronger material for that upright wing, but will still float it. I go over and over in my head that one cast I sent in the cedar above that 20 incher that sent him/her for cover and how I could get a do-over. For the Meth/Crack/Cocaine/LSD addict — they are “Chasing the High”. A term used  to refer to the first time they used — often unattainable and the cause of their repeated search leading to death, delusion or confinement. I am on a search for that first time, however, I believe in the purity and beauty this addiction has rewarded me with a quality of life I would rather not replace. A short decade ago, I too was living on the streets looking for something — chasing a high that  would not have a beneficial direction for my life. I am thankful I found my way back to the Tying Vise — and making it my only vise, others are not so fortunate.

A newly made fishing friend from FB mentioned on his status something his wife said — and my wife completely agreed. She hinted that their family Christmas photo should be a postcard of her and the two girls and the Dad in the river holding a brown from the Rogue in Rockford. He jokingly said that was cool. I do envision a family photo of my troop, all in waders in the middle of the Thompson or the Blue Rivers, with heavily padded and flocked trees in the background. Someday.

My wife is a blessing, as is my entire family — truly. She doesn’t totally understand the addiction thing. She can have a glass of wine and leave it on the coffee table 1/2 full She is kinda crazy like that. Chocolate and shopping are the only things that might be considered her vices. I only qualify shopping as her addiction because few ‘normies’ actually plan on going shopping at midnight on Thanksgiving and shopping all evening into the next morning with pre-arranged intervals of juicing up with Redbull and Monster drinks. Who would chase sales and deals for nearly 18 hours on end? INSANE! or is it? I have worked all day and gone Hexing into the wee morning hours for nights on end, and when that was over — it became Mousing Time. In the end, it is all about your passion. What is your passion? I am very happy to have found mine swimming in the swift currents of any river that is cold and cool enough to dangle that carrot before my face….

If you are anything at all like myself, most of us were knee deep at the end of a cool running riffle, a gentle breeze at your back in the early evening with the sun prepping purple and golden hues upon the horizon. The fragrance of freshly muddled watercress from your path into the stream and genuine cedar sachet wafting through the air as we eagerly await the first bug to take flight and the dimples on the river’s surface soon thereafter.

Many of you may already know me, our paths have crossed either on the stream of life or actually in the water doing some great work for the benefit of our cold water denizens. My name is Brian Kozminski, my friends call me ‘Koz’ — Miller VanWinkle TU ex-officio – lifelong advocate for all cold water streams in North America and GreenFish Ambassador — promoting proper techniques for catch and release. I carry the message of Cold, Clean and Clear everywhere I go. I have been in the service industry my entire life, which allows me the flexibility to volunteer at school for first grade daughter (Simone), spend time with the family (Lesley Koz) and our two labs (Roxy & Stella), while managing to get my waders wet once in a while. Hospitality has taught me how to interact with guests and make new acquaintances. From Bar Tending to Serving to Management, I have met some of the best individuals from all over the Mid-West and many of those have been anglers. If I have made your acquaintance at one of the restaurants I have worked, we probably have made the riparian connection and the passion that immediately follows.

I have met hundreds of people who have never even heard of TU, or what they do; soon they become aware of such issues as water withdrawal, Asian Carp, Fracking, Pebble Mine, wild versus farmed salmon and dam removal to mention just a few. Hopefully, in meeting so many new individuals, I have persuaded them to go home and look up their local TU and get involved with various conservation efforts or to begin a lifelong passion of fly tying or fly fishing, while crossing another item off the bucket List. Trout Unlimited also has great programs like Stream Explorers (Junior TU membership) Salmon in the Classroom and Trout in the Classroom (where permitted). I have been involved for the past 3 years with our local elementary schools SIC and would like to share what the children and teachers of this learning event have benefitted.

I belong to a very exclusive and private club of anglers who may lynch and stone me if I were to mention any specific details about some of the rivers we frequent. In order to protect myself and family, the names of such rivers may be changed to the Bugs Bunny River or the Warner Brothers section, in order to keep the tone light and comical. I believe they are both in the Nunya watershed system. It is a delicate balance for me, I love to share my joy and love for the outdoors, my father taught me to give it away at an early age, but I also know I need to protect what is sacred, or it won’t be for very long. Sometimes these sacred places need to be shared in order to protect or restore them to a once better place in time, otherwise, it would be like caging an injured animal just to watch it die. Then what are you left with? An empty river, devoid of life and beyond salvage.

My background is like many; fell in love with trout with my first brook trout caught on a yellow and red Panther Martin in Grayling many decades ago, discovered untouched waterfalls in Canada teeming with ’specks’. Grew up, went to college, started my career at a members only club in Grand Rapids, and fishing became less frequent. Many years later, I re-discovered what it was that truly made me ‘happy’- water between my legs and the eternal chance that I may dupe that picky trout rising to miniscule bwo’s upstream of me. I submersed myself, began tying flies with tenacity, chasing salmon and steelhead sometimes 5 days a week. Being a bartender does have its advantages if you don’t stay and entertain all hours of the night. I had the perfect life, fishing by day, working at night, making great money in the heyday of the 90’s when people had the tendency to be less frivolous, and enjoying every minute of it. Soon, I met my wife to-be, and after we married, she suggested we move north to Petoskey, I told her my bags were packed and ready to go. We do live in paradise. In a little over an hour, I can be either on the Manistee, the Au Sable, or a myriad of smaller rivers in the tip of the mitt or in the UP.

I am not a teacher – although have taught a few how to tie a fly and many newcomers the nuance of a good roll-cast.

I am not a ‘guide’ – although have taken a few fortunate individuals fishing who were high bid at local charities such as Habitat for Humanity, Women’s Resource Center, Crooked Tree Art Center D’Art for Art and a few others.

I am not biologist – although I have taken a few classes and love macro-invertebrate studies.

I am not a writer – the closest correlation I have is that I work in a place where Hemingway allegedly scribbled on bar napkins for a few novels. But this wonderful opportunity came along, my wife and others said “It is totally you! You should do it.” So here we are. I hope to keep many items the same, we look forward to many more river/guide reports, I may dabble a bit on some conservation/environmental topics to keep myself abreast of current events and add a little flavor here and there. I hope you will join me on this journey and pass this on to your friends, fishing buddies and family. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Wonderful New Year!!

Tight Lines & Tighter Loops,

Koz

The main cabin at Camp Ginger Quill

For us, as children, the long ride from Bay City was almost over when we heard the gravel strike the underside of the car near Roscommon. (I-75 had not yet been built.) Our father, Fred, would make a short stop at Jack’s Rod and Fly Shop to pick up flies and leaders. We would always stop on the bridge over the South Branch to say hello to the Au Sable. From then on we would search for glimpse of a deer and for the small Camp Ginger Quill signs nailed to trees or posts, along with what seemed like a hundred other signs, indicating when we should turn. Once we were on the Ginger Quill road and starting down the hill, we would honk our car horn announcing our arrival. Grandma and Grandpa Smith would welcome us on the back lawn, usually just as the sun was going down. We children would pile out of the car and dash down the sidewalk to the river. The river held great excitement for us. It was like seeing our best friend after a long absence. Our parents had to drag us off the dock.

We usually slept in bunk beds right by the rear entry door. We all remember rolling over and scratching our arms on the rough stucco walls. On a typical day the grandchildren would awaken when the caretakers brought in fresh firewood at 6 A.M. The footsteps up the back steps, the creaking of the screen door spring, and the closing of the door were enough to wake us. We were up quickly and would run along a direct path behind the tackle room, through the woods, and up to the “Dining Cabin” for breakfast. Zoe Borchers’ Au Sable River Pancakes (balls of pancake batter, deep fried and covered with honey butter) were our favorite breakfast. Our ages were compatible with the caretaker’s two children, Bonnie and Butch Borchers, and we got along very well. We would stay occupied at the “Dining Cabin” until the adults were up and ready for breakfast. They would have coffee at the “Main Cabin” but, when ready, would call the “Dining Cabin” on a private phone system, to indicate they were on their way down for breakfast, stopping at the “Boys’ Cabin” to pick up any guests who might be there. While the adults were at breakfast the “Main Cabin” was being cleaned and the beds made or changed.

Lunch was packed for those going out fishing with a guide. We will always remember Zoe’s wonderful cookies. Lunch for the others was normally served at the “Main Cabin” and was usually very light. I remember having fruit, sandwiches and cold soup on the front porch looking out at the river.

The grandchildren were allowed access to the older green Au Sable river boats and would pole them as far upstream as Knight’s Bridge, and then fish or float down to the “Main Cabin.” We could pole in easy water and avoid the deep water at Ghoul’s Hole by staying in the channel just upstream of the “Main Cabin.” We would often fish in tennis shoes and bathing suits and we all loved swimming from the “Dining Cabin” down to the “Main Cabin.” To this day I have a recurring dream of the current carrying me past the “Main Cabin” and then downriver.

Dinnertime was usually set ahead of time. As evening approached and the fishermen returned, naps were over and everyone was cleaned up, the adults would relax on the front porch with a drink or two before dinner. A large cast bell would ring at the “Dining Cabin” indicating dinner was ready. We would all stroll up for dinner. Meals would rival those served in the very best restaurants. As a child all I can remember is the Baked Alaska, but we ate many wonderful things. I especially remember the miniature canoe and hand carved duck decoys that decorated the dining room. We would also watch deer graze in the meadow by the gazebo. It was normally dark when we walked back after dinner but the walkway was lighted. The evenings were peaceful.

The living room seemed to glow even when there was no fire. When the sun went down there was little to do but play cards, read or talk around the blazing fire. We would open the upper doors to the porch and could hear the river over the crackling fire. Our grandfather loved to play cards, and canasta or cribbage was his games of choice. He was very competitive, but I think he let us win. I remember being introduced to Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh and Alice in Wonderland while trying to stay awake on the down sofa. If you happened to be captured by that sofa, it would envelop you and put you to sleep in minutes. Television made a very late appearance at CGQ but was normally only used to watch an occasional Tigers game. Even the telephone was located outside in the tackle room.

Henry B. Smith Jr. owned several companies and was on the board of directors of the bank. To us, however, he was just Grandpa. He was a kind and gentle man who was very generous to family. He loved the Au Sable and he loved trout fishing so Ginger Quill was very much an extension of his personality. He always seemed happiest there. We often played cards together and watched Tigers games. He collected stamps and coins and showed some talent as an artist. He delighted in sharing his interests with us.

Our Grandmother, a very beautiful and elegant woman, would read to us and play and sing to us at the piano. She loved the woods and spent most of her time nurturing the garden she planted around the “Main Cabin.” She created a nature trail and filled it with Michigan’s most beautiful wild flowers. She also created a tree farm and planted thousands of trees throughout our property, much of which was seen only by her. She loved taking us through the woods to teach us about her trees, her flowers and her birds. She was a magnificent woman and much of the magic that is Camp Ginger Quill came directly from her. She also holds the Ginger Quill fishing record; a 24-3/4 inch brown caught just below the “Main Cabin.” The men who fish there never quite got over the fact she beat them and she was always there to remind them.

The Hottentots, a group of men who gathered at Ginger Quill on the 1st of May for the opening of trout season, held a one-day fishing contest to see who can catch the longest fish. The winner gets his name on a loving cup and gets to keep the cup for that year. He is also responsible for choosing the invitations for the next year. The invitations normally have the Ginger Quill logo, the date and the words “Happy Hottentots.”

The gathering of the Hottentots was quite a party. Although trout fishing was the number one priority, the Hottentots knew how to enjoy themselves. They all had a small paddle they would bang on the dining table to the beat of their song, “We are the Happy Hottentots,” bang, bang, bang, bang, etc. Missing a beat of the song could result in an unwanted swim in the river. It was usually a little difficult for the younger generation to be accepted as members, as the fathers weren’t sure they wanted their sons to see them having that much fun. The transitions took place, however, and the Hottentots remain active today although somewhat subdued. Catch and Release has forced them to fish below Wakeley’s Bridge or on the North Branch.

Camp Ginger Quill is indeed a very special place. It has affected everyone who has ever been touched by its spell. We in the Smith Family will always miss CGQ and treasure every moment we ever spent there. We are all pleased that Ginger Quill is still touching people’s lives.

As a series these essays provide a nice first-person glimpse into another time and another way of life on the Au Sable river. Look for the next installment in our series tomorrow.

Camp Ginger Quill was built in 1928 by my grandparents, Bay City businessman Henry B. Smith Jr. and his wife Katherine. It began as a small cabin just downstream from the present site. While making glue on the stove one evening, a small fire started and spread quickly. Fortunately no one was hurt but the cabin burned to the ground.

Three generations of the Smith family at Camp Ginger Quill: Frederick B Smith, Sr., Frederick B. Smith, Jr., and Henry B Smith Jr. on the dock with an Au Sable riverboat (Photo: Bay City Times).

Construction began the following year on the first cabin of the present complex. The “Main Cabin” as it was always known, was initially much smaller than it is today. It included three bedrooms, one bath, the living room, and a small kitchen. A screened porch ran the length of the cabin facing the river.

Two years later the “Main Cabin” was expanded. The hallway to the kitchen was extended down to a large master suite (which is now a bar and game room). Two small rooms along the hall were a bathroom and an office/tackle room. The master suite consisted of a screened porch, a large sitting area, and two single Dutch beds recessed into the wall. Both beds had curtains for more privacy or to block the sun for afternoon naps. A screened game room filled the space between the living room with its large stone fireplace and the master suite. It was dominated by a ping-pong table and exercise equipment, such as an old rowing machine, medicine balls and dumbbells. Access to the game room was a step down from the hall or from the front porch. The living room was closed at the fireplace end and firewood was stored on either side. (The game room is now a large kitchen and dining room.)

The green dock in front of the “Main Cabin” had a retaining wall that ran from the stairs to the down river end, and which also acted as a bench. A wrought iron sign hung from the light post near the stairs depicting two fishermen in a canoe, a rod bent by the pressure of a large trout, and the word “Ginger” at the top and “Quill” at the bottom. That sign was used as the Ginger Quill logo. A live well was in place at the down river end of the dock so we always had fresh trout. Fish that were not eaten in three days were tagged and released. No one has ever caught any of the tagged fish, however. The live well was a source of endless fascination for the grandchildren.

The Camp Ginger Quill dining room.

The “Dining Cabin” was built the year the “Main Cabin” was expanded and contained living quarters for the caretakers, a large kitchen and a beautiful dining room with a sitting space around a fireplace at the downriver end. There was also a screened porch at the dining room entrance. A long dock ran in front of the dining room and was accessed by two sets of stairs with log railings. At the upriver end of the dock was a boathouse topped by a screened gazebo. The gazebo was furnished with bentwood furniture and dominated by two bentwood swings. The view upstream was wonderful. There was a weather vane on top of the gazebo with the words “Wise Men Fish Here”. Eventually the boathouse developed structural problems and was torn down. The gazebo was moved back on land where it sits now. The “Dining Cabin” also sported a tennis court, which was eventually overtaken by the elements.

The “Main Cabin” and the “Dining Cabin” were connected by a wooden walkway that followed the basic path of the river. Henry and Katherine’s two sons, Henry III and Fred, were now in their early teens. A log cabin known as the “Boys’ Cabin” was built about halfway between the “Dining Cabin” and the “Main Cabin.” The two “Boys” helped in the construction and hence the name “Boy’s Cabin.” It was a very basic log structure with one bathroom, one private bedroom and two large open rooms, one at the down river end containing only beds and the larger central room with a sitting area around the fireplace and two beautiful custom bentwood beds. The walls were decorated with Henry III’s and Fred’s high school pennants, snowshoes, snow skis, a few stuffed animals and other sports items. There was a small screened porch and a very small dock. The “Boys’ Cabin” was often a favorite place for the teenage children and grandchildren as it offered some separation from the adults. The “Boys’ Cabin” always had bats which made it less attractive to the females of the family. We would often take the snowshoes off the walls to combat the bats.

During two years of rather dry weather, rattlesnakes had been found under the wooden walkway. Also the first two grandchildren were eighteen months-old and beginning to walk. This coupled with the problems in maintaining the wood made replacement necessary. In 1947 the wooden walkway was torn up and replaced by green colored concrete. Our initials can be found in the concrete by the “Boys’ Cabin.”

Other small buildings were two behind the “Main Cabin” – the laundry, which is now a bedroom and bath, and a garage/tackle room/outboard engine-firewood storage room, which is now a garage/bedroom/tackle room. There was a large garage by the “Dining Cabin” used for maintenance equipment, boat building and repair, and winter boat storage. Next to the garage was a gasoline storage tank.

At least two Au Sable riverboats were normally tied to the “Main Cabin” dock. The caretaker was usually a guide and the boats could be motored upstream with small outboard motors. Sheared cotter pins were common when the prop hit rocks, shallows or submerged logs. There is a path along the river upstream from the gazebo to Knight’s Bridge so we could wade a long stretch of river from Knight’s to the original cabin site.

Frederick B. Smith, Jr.

Our family cabin complex, Camp Ginger Quill, is located on the “Holy Water” about a half-mile upstream of Wakeley Bridge. As you float down from site of Knight’s Bridge, an old wooden footbridge which is no longer there, there was a beautiful view of the dining cabin, boat house and gazebo. Those building are now gone and a beautiful new log cabin have been build in its place. At the Dining Cabin the river bends ninety degrees to the left and flows down toward Ghoul’s Hole, passing both the Dining Cabin and the Boy’s Cabin on the right. At Ghoul’s Hole, a deep hole and home to many very large trout, the river takes another ninety degree turn to the right and flows past the Main Cabin. I have been told that the land directly across from the Main Cabin was the original site of Trout Unlimited.

The Camp Ginger Quill Boathouse

I have had a wonderful life. I have traveled around much of the world and lived in many beautiful places. My fondest memories, however, are of the times spent along and in the Au Sable River at Camp Ginger Quill.

Camp Ginger Quill was sold in the late 60s just as I was graduating from Alma College and about to enter the Air Force. I was the first of six grand children to leave Michigan. Of the two that remained, only one stayed in Bay City.

As my grandparents, who built Ginger Quill in the 1920s, eventually became too old and sick to use and care for it properly, they transferred ownership to their three children. These three families, all with children of college age at the time, didn’t have the means to maintain the property as their parents had nor did they all share to same vision for it’s use. The women who had previously been able to relax when they visited Ginger Quill were now forced to do all of the cooking and cleaning, often cleaning up after the previous guests. The men became painfully aware of the costs involved in maintaining the large complex, even at a minimal level.

Every attempt was made to sell the complex as a single unit but the first owner immediately split Ginger Quill into three parts, kept the Main Cabin and sold the two remaining parcels. The Main Cabin was eventually maintained by a partnership of several families. The Boys cabin was sold to an individual and the Dining Cabin fell into disrepair and had to be torn down.

Over the years I have returned to Michigan from our home in Texas to canoe and fish the Au Sable, each time stopping by Camp Ginger Quill hoping meet the new owners and share my memories. Finally about fifteen years ago there were people sitting on the Main Cabin dock. They were so eager to hear about my family and the history of Ginger Quill, I started gathering information and old photos to write my own history not only of the place but also of the magical quality it held. Mostly this history was written for my family, memories that we all shared but had begun to forget.

I was born in Jacksonville Florida in January of 1945 where my father was stationed in the Navy. Shortly after the war we moved back to Bay City Michigan where my brother Geoffrey and sister Mary Jo were born. After graduating from Alma College in 1967 I joined the Air Force. After officer school and a year of pilot training in Lubbock Texas I was stationed in Del Rio Texas for nearly five years. I met and married my wife of 42 years while in officer school and our only child, our son Scott was born in Del Rio.

After separating from the Air Force in 1973 I was hired as a pilot by Delta Airlines where I served for fifteen years in Houston and another fifteen years in Dallas, retiring 2003. We have since built a cabin in the Ozarks of northern Arkansas on the White River about five miles downstream from Bull Shoals Dam.  We’ve named the cabin Ginger Quill Cottage and are trying hard to encourage fly fishing on the White with limited success.

In this first part of the interview Tommy talks about indicator fishing for steelhead, Spey casting, and night fishing for brown trout with mouse patterns. Look for Part II of the interview in the next week.

More information about Tommy is available at his website and at Hawkins Outfitters. Tommy is one of the top guides working in Michigan and the information he has to share is quite valuable.

T|N|T: According to your website, before you decided to become a fishing guide you were going to college to become a funeral director, which I understand is your family’s business. Was it difficult to walk away from both a solid profession that would have promised financial security and from “the family legacy,” so to speak? How did you come to make that decision?

T|L: Nope, wasn’t a hard decision at all. I have two brothers in that business, but there are simply more smiles in this line of work. I like living happy! My father and I decided in an Irish, highly-toned conversation one day that I could certainly be a decent funeral director, but I would never love it like I loved fly fishing. He was right on both counts, as he usually is.

That's Tommy on the right with his friend, Mr. Big Trout.

Fly fishing is like nothing I had ever experienced, with the possible exception of sex. It just wasn’t the sort of thing that I was able to walk away from or put away and then take out again on the weekends. Once I did it, I had to continue. Every day that I didn’t fish, I felt as if I was digging myself into a hole that would have to “fish myself out of” eventually.

Besides — to be a great funeral director — like my father and my brothers — you have to become a responsible, well-dressed, and clean-shaven member of society … all overrated achievements in the eyes of a trout bum.

I caught a bass at age four in my Uncle Fred’s private pond in New York. But my father didn’t take me to the Pere Marquette River until I was seven years old. He used to tell me, “Tommy, I took you to the river when you were seven, and you never really came home!” My pop was right, and in some way he always encouraged me to do what I loved because he saw that I would be very lucky guy, if I could. In a way I still feel like I am part of “the legacy,” just a different part of it now, as many of my uncles and cousins will come to fish with my father and with me every September. I hope that tradition continues for generations to come.

T|N|T: You mention on your website that you were the first guide to do “chuck & duck”-free, floating-line-only steelhead trips on the Pere Marquette. I remember a time when guides and fly shop owners alike would tell you that “chuck & duck” was the only way to catch steelhead reliably, especially in cold weather. I take it that’s no longer the case. What led you to the decision to not use the “chuck & duck” method?

T|L: “Chuck & Duck” has its uses on the bigger rivers where strong casting might be a problem for clients who have never moved a fly line before — much less 50’ of line with a mend! That being said the best “big river” fly guys I know are now running center-pin versions of indicator techniques – including several of the guys on the Hawkins crew, like Jon Ray and Ed McCoy.

This technique is even easier to apply than small water rollcasting, thanks to the overall size of the water fished on the major tailwaters Also tailwater fisheries get that heavy stocking much more than the smaller streams, and of course the P.M. mainstream gets zero plants, but has one of the best natural returns and reproduction in the Midwest.

For the P.M. it was a no-brainer and a bi-product of Western horizontal nymphing techniques. For me, that sort of indicator technique just got more and more vertical until I was running directly under the floats (much like spawn under a float). But then the floats and rig design itself started to change to cater to different water clarities and target water, along with other changes to compensate for different depths and flows. Without this basic style of casting, mending, and rig design, a true drag-free drift with a tapered fly line would be almost impossible, unless you were drift-casting from a moving boat.

For me, fly fishing starts when you add a taper and a cast to the use of fly line. If you are just waiting for a bump or a stop, and feeling your way through a run, you are not really fly fishing — you are drift fishing with a fly rod. This is especially true when you’re using a non-tapered fly line, or just colored mono, and throwing massive amounts of lead.

The leading cause of foul-hooked fish is due to tippets being dragged across or into the fish, just like they are from the swing of a “chuck” rig. Rigs like that never even allow for a true drag-free drift because the technique doesn’t produce unless you do have drag.

The bottomline is that eggs, nymphs and other food particles will travel down the seam, not across the seam like you get with “chuck & duck” — that is just not a natural presentation and something that needed fixing on the P.M. years ago.

Applications in cold weather are limitless when it comes to indicator fishing. Not only can you fish more water per drift, you can also fish it more accurately. And you will never have to worry about what is on the bottom of the river since you can suspend your flies with a vertical presentation. Fish are never sitting with their bellies on the floor of the river anyway. Normally they are holding about a foot off the bottom. In the fall they hold-off even more. With “chuck” gear the reason so many fish are foul-hooked is because the hooks are underneath the fish before the hook-set.

All of this explains why foul-hooking is so common since people usually finish their cast with a lift and they normally set whenever the “bump” feels fishy enough. This practice of fishing is so easy, though, that “a caveman can do it,” which is why some people, I think, still practice it.

Of course, fish use wood as structure so that they have a place in which they can hold safely, but “chuck & duck” anglers will pass by those spots for that very reason — they can’t fish in the wood. But a good indicator angler will look at a woody spot and see opportunity rather than inevitable defeat. This in turn builds confidence, and there isn’t a fly in your box that will out fish that quality.

Being able to fish a spot without touching the bottom is always huge, but when you’re fishing an INDI with an 11’ switch rod, then you only have to bring-in a few strips before you cast again. Contrast that with “chuck” gear where you have to strip-in at least 90% of your running/mono line before you can “chuck” it out there with that famous pendulum-like lob.

In the winter an added bonus is that, with less line stripped-in per cast, there is less water being pulled-off the line and so your rod guides freeze-up slower. The more line you strip in when the air is below freezing, the more time you will spend popping the ice out of the guides.

Consider as well that, just from the standpoint of efficiency, the amount of water covered per “chuck & duck” cast is really low compared to the use of the indicator method. If your fishing an indicator, then you’re matching the speed of the current and covering more water without having to work as hard with all that lobbing. The catch is that you have to learn how to actually fly cast, as you can’t just lob the lead out there anymore.

For little ones getting their first salmon or steelhead, “chuck & duck” does have its uses, but as a fly fishing guide, you’re paying me to learn how to fly fish, and if I take you “chuck & duck” fishing, I should just give you your money back because you will never learn to fly cast doing that, nor will you learn if I have you fish a fly line with zero taper.

Slowing down a drift for the cooler water is more about placement than about lead. If a fish is holding in slower water because it is cooler, you can accurately present your flies to that specific slower water better because you’re fishing with an indicator. You’re not only using the indi-bobber as a strike detector, but you’re also using it for fly placement because that way you know right where your flies are relative to your float through the entire drift. From a learning standpoint an indicator truly lets you understand where the fish are when they bite. When the bobber drops and disappears you get a nice mental picture of where that fish was holding when revisiting that spot on future outings.

I remember specifically a couple of fellows passing me just above the New Access one year when we had a good run of fish and we were running the floats with consistency. They were laughing at me, and giggling that I was using a bobber (a Thill Gold Metal Ice Float) and a real fly line. But before they were out of eyesight around that next bend, I was playing a dandy and those fellows were back there putting ketchup on their previous words and taunts.

“Chuck & duck” is old school, and a technique designed really to crash flies into stationary targets. It is quite a distance, in my opinion, from actual fly fishing. Do fish take flies on “chuck” gear? Yes. Do they also get blindsided and snagged with the same technique? Yes. Will an indicator presentation out-fish “chuck” gear three-to-one or better in most situations? Yes. And it is genuine fly fishing, to boot.

“Chuck & duck” is kind of like tie-dyes — sooner or later you just have to let it go.

T|N|T: On your website you talk briefly about Spey casting, which, while it’s anything but a new technique, is still relatively unknown in the Midwest. Is this something we should all be getting interested in? Why or why not?

T|L: It is a really cool technique and a great place to go for steelhead fishermen in Michigan looking to diversify their game beyond straight nymphing. “The tug” or “grab” is as addicting and gratifying as catching ten trout on indicators. Battles are dampened-down thanks to the larger gear and heavier tippets, but that initial hook-up when the fish drives with all of his weight is worth it. It is really almost too short-lived, like most intense sensations in life.

Mystery and surprise trump shear numbers with constant mending and casting, though it can get a little boring sometimes on your hang-downs or repetitious casting. A streamer grab is much more “shock & awe” than just an egg gulp or a nymph take. They hit that Disco Leech like it owes ‘em money, and that’s why you swing — not for numbers — but for that very personal take that only occurs when a fish moves in for an attack instead of just a passive bite.

Though nymphing produces more steelhead than any another other fly technique, if I had a dollar for every time we’ve hooked-up with a giant October or November fish that just kicked our ass on the lighter tippets, I would be able to afford another Spey rod rig that could give the same fish an attitude adjustment. When the moon and stars align, then sooner or later your going to hook a super donkey, and though your 10’ seven-weight has landed several fish over ten pounds, that same rod will buckle when tangling with a fifteen-pounder in 50 degree water. Having a big, bad 12.5’ eight-weight Spey gun and goat rope tippets fitted to a larger streamer hook makes landing the fish of your career on a fly much more realistic.

The trick is making that otherwise untamable fish say “cheese” before going about his business.

Spey casting is something that will literally make a fishless day of fishing totally successful — especially if you have a good matched line. When you are Spey casting, whether double or single Spey, or even using Snap-T applications, each cast is unique, critical, and just flat-out fun to do. Timing is everything, and if you’re off just a little, you may wind up wearing your fly instead of casting it. If you cast is correct though, it is like hearing a violin when it is played just right and it is great to watch that line travel like a sound wave across the water accordingly.

After casts like that, with the added gratification of just watching that giant loop open up and fold out with a nice tug at the end, well, who needs a take or a fish at that point? Your cast was a success!

T|N|T: You’ve had the opportunity to guide and fish in some of the most desirable locations in the fly fishing world–Western trout rivers, Alaska, the Cayman Islands—and yet you returned to make your home and your living as a guide in Michigan. I’m guessing the rivers and the fishing here must compare favorably to what you found elsewhere?

T|L: Don’t get me wrong – “Out West” is a Mecca for all trout fisherman because of the shear amount of incredible fishing water, as well as the phenomenal numbers of trout per mile. And then there are the amazing scenic backdrops in places like Alaska. But of course the downside is that water is well-fished and full of cookie-cutters and ‘bows. I found out a long time ago that the more of the same-sized fish I caught, the less each one before that catch meant to me. The variety of fish that we have here in Michigan is very diverse. In a given day of hopper fishing you will catch everything from steelhead smolt 5” long to two-foot browns that will likely eat that same smolt, if brought-in slow enough. You may not get twenty fish in the middle-teen class to the net, but you may see several browns over 20” long, which makes Michigan’s Big-Fish-to-Fish-Number ratio pretty impressive.

There is no doubt in my mind that the fish of the salt are the meanest pound-for-pound fish in the world, especially Bonefish. But, like tarpon, there are many of them out there and they all look alike. One could argue though that the permit is the brown trout of the seas just because of their rarity and wariness.

I can almost remember every brown trout I ever caught — and it isn’t hard, especially when it comes to the bigger ones. Unlike steelhead and even bonefish, no two browns ever really look alike. They are kind of like snow flakes in that respect, and that makes them very interesting to me. To me each one a different piece of eye candy – unlike just tearing another ‘bow or bone off the line and to make another cast for another fish that could be it’s twin. One day I may even get to go to Argentina with Chuck and his boys … saving my pennies so I can chase the gold.

Like other world-class fisheries, Michigan has lots of good fishing, especially when that certain bite turns on. One of the neatest things about Michigan fly fishing is every month of the year seems to have one of these “turn-ons” — whether it is Mousin’ Midnights or trophy steelhead in the snow, the truth is that I can usually walk out my door and do some world-class fly-fishing, with real variety, all year long. If that isn’t worth posting up a tent, I am not sure what is.

T|N|T: One of the best features of the Pere Marquette is that it can be productively fished just about every day of the year, in almost any weather. When is your favorite time to be on the water?

T|L: Mousin’, baby! There is no other time, after seeing so many trout sections over and over again in this state, that the mystery and anticipation for a take is so heightened in me as when the lights are off and the game is on. If you haven’t fished at night, then you’re missing a soul-deepening event. All your senses are magnified as you lose the ability to see what is right out there in front of your face.

Casting flies into the blackness of night is an acquired taste, but it is addicting – particularly once you hit a 20+” trout on a fly. Those first few nights your mind will play tricks on you and it will turn that small frog in the grass behind you into a bear sniffing within feet of your neckline. But stay with it and you will appreciate fishing in a whole new light, or lack thereof. Use the force, Luke, and do give into the Darkside, for those that do are paid in feet and not in inches.

Surprise and size is why we suit up after dark, and sooner or later it does pay to be out there. This sort of fishing isn’t about listening to and identifying birds, or watching the “bikini hatch” come down while you are fishing midday with hoppers, though that can be very nice, too. This is about swinging for the fences at night when solitude is limited midday because of thriving daytime air temps and canoe liveries that seem to spawn canoes with no limit. Of course, even on warm summer Saturdays, though, that only lasts until 6 PM — then the fisherman and wolves get to go with the flow.

I refer to brown trout as “wolves” because they live just like them, especially the big ones. They prefer to live in the wood or log jams, taking cover during daylight, but they storm-out and take up strategic positions after hours so they can maximize their predatory productiveness under the cover of night.

They prefer to pounce as much as chase, but also love to study all their prey before any attack, and are seldom seen until they do. They stay off the radar until the very last second and then launch a rude campaign of pain on whatever got too close or couldn’t run out the clock. Brown trout are moody and witty and will keep you up at night in some way or another.

As a fly angler, you’re going to improve your casting and fishing skills much more at night. When you are forced to truly feel your way through a cast and then calculate where a bank or bush might be in order to “make it happen, captain,” then it is truly is like going Jedi with a fly rod. You’re using more of your mind to outwit that fish then you ever would with the lights on, but the joke is on the fish because as you improve with your midnight skills, the fish will bow to your impossibly-placed after-hours cast and maybe fall victim to a 8089TMC or worse.

In no time they will be forced to say “cheese” in the moonlight. I’ve learned more about my casting, and how to do it right, in the dark then I ever have in daylight. In daylight you can make a bad cast work, or compensate on a forward cast to clean up a bad back cast. But in the dark, if you don’t have the right timing and angles, you will never get a cast to roll or stretch out.

Schmidt's Madonna

Ray Schmidt’s fly box is featured today at Midcurrent as part of their “Inside the Box Series.” Unsurprisingly, it is a box full of BIG streamer flies — the sort that are tied on BIG hooks to fool and catch BIG trout. Ray notes in the accompanying interview that he regularly fishes with a group of big streamer nuts, and of course his own personal fly designs are right outta that school, too.

If you’re unfamiliar with Midcurrent’s “Inside the Box” series, then it is worth looking at some of the other featured boxes, too. I’m particularly impressed with Craig Mathews‘ box, along with the box of Diana Rudolph and, though a bit predictable, that of writer and bonefish angler Carl Hiaasen.

At the end of the accompanying interview Hiaasen’s remarks that “Bonefish have been around for a couple of million years. Human beings are just blips on the screen for them. They’ll probably outlast us, despite the fact that we seem to be doing everything we can to destroy their habitat. Meanwhile, I’m going to catch as many as I can.”"

T|N|T: Todd, tell us about how you came to fly angling? What is your sporting background like, and when and where did you start to fish with a fly rod?

T|F: I started fly fishing at the age of eight years old with my Dad, Uncle, and Grandfather. Mostly on lakes and really small streams near our family cottage in Lewiston, Michigan. I have fished and hunted all my life and I knew someday that this passion would be my lifestyle.

T|N|T: People know about Fuller’s North Branch Outing Club up in Lovells – how did that get started, and what was your role in it? I’m met your mother, too, at the club – are your folks involved in that project?

T|F: Being in the Lewiston-Lovells area on a regular basis, Labor Day Weekend 1996 we saw the old Douglas Hotel, North Branch Outing Club, was for sale. Our family went and looked at it and our wheels were spinning.  Two weeks later we were the proud owners of this historic fly fishing destination.  My Dad (Darrell), Mom (Judy), Sister (Kim Fuller Lewis), and I were all involved in the two-year process of getting the Lodge restored and open again to fly anglers. My Mom currently runs the B&B Lodging and I run the Fly Fishing Guide Service and Full Service Fly Shop with our very talented staff.

T|N|T: I’ve attended the Michigan Fly Fishing Festival a few times. Could you talk a little about how that got started and what you’re trying to do with the festival at this point?

T|F: The Michigan Fly Fishing Festival was created to help raise money for river restoration in our area and another reason for all fly anglers to head north. Our goal is to raise as much money as we can for Huron Pines RC&D. This organization is responsible for all the wonderful work that has taken place on the Au Sable and other rivers in Northeastern Michigan. I had this Festival vision in my head for a while and the time was right to do it. This year will be the 3^rd annual Michigan Fly Fishing Festival and we are expecting a much bigger crowd this year. We will have all the details on our website very soon.

T|N|T: Do you consider yourself a Floridian who spends part of the year in Michigan, or a Michigander who spends part of the year in Florida?

T|F: I will always be a Michigander at heart and my first love is chasing rising trout on the North Branch for sure. However the saltwater fly fishing game has really gotten in my blood over the past twelve years.

T|N|T: You do a great deal of guiding in both Florida and in Michigan – tell us a little about your clients and about your life as guide. What brought you to guiding and what do you enjoy most about it? What are some of the frustrations, too?

Captain Todd Fuller teaching a seminar in Orlando.

T|F: I have been blessed for sure. To be able to do what you love and make a living doing it is everyone’s dream. It would not be possible if it were not for my very understanding and supportive wife. From May to October I fly every other week from the flats of Mosquito Lagoon to the beautiful waters of the Au Sable River system. Talk about keeping things fresh and new — the burnout factor that some guides experience is not in my future for sure. I fish with clients from all over the world and a lot of them fish with me in both of the watersheds on which I guide. For sure the best part of guiding is the people I get to meet and become friends with over time. Quite honestly, I do not get frustrated on the job. It is all about having a great time on the water and delivering what the client wants out of the day — understanding that point up front is the key to a successful day on the water for me and the angler I am guiding.

T|N|T: Intermediate-level anglers usually want to take their casting to the next level. I understand it is always hard to give generic advice, but what do think the average angler should be doing to improve their casting game?

T|F: Casting, casting, and more casting — the correct technique, that is. I work with lots of folks on improving their casting, be it short casts for rising trout or long casts for tailing Redfish. Perfecting loop control and learning the double haul is a must to take you to the next level.

T|N|T: I’ve seen pictures of you fishing out of an Au Sable riverboat. I fish out of my Ro Skiff on the lower Au Sable all the time, but have limited experience in traditional Au Sable boats – could you talk a little about them and about how they perform?

T|F: Fishing out of an Au Sable riverboat is a very unique experience and one of the best ways to catch fish on the dry fly. It is pure tradition here on the Au Sable River. They were originally used in the logging industry to bring supplies up and down the river to the lumber camps. In the late 1800’s a young man named Rube Babbitt took one of the riverboats, put a front seat and live well on it, and started guiding fly anglers for Grayling. Guides have been using the Au Sable riverboats for fly anglers ever since.

This watercraft is made from beautiful woods and is a sight to see one floating down the Au Sable. They float in mere inches of water and are very quiet as they slowly drift down the river. Guiding out of one of these boats is a real pleasure. It’s kind of like fly fishing out of a limo in true style and comfort. They accommodate two fly anglers very comfortably.

T|N|T: I’m not asking you to give away any big secrets, but tell us a little about the North Branch of the Au Sable … what makes it a special fishery for you?

Fuller's North Branch Outing Club

T|F: It is truly a fly fisher’s river — great fly hatches, longest stretch of  “Flies Only Water” on the Au Sable, and lots of wild trout eager to take a fly. The North Branch has plenty of public access points and yet still has large tracts of private land which makes it more difficult to access then the other branches of the Au Sable River. This means less people, no commercial canoe traffic, and solitude for our clients.  I caught my first trout on a dry fly on the North Branch and that is really what makes it special for me.

T|N|T: You have a dual life – for part of the year you are fishing in Michigan and for part of the year you’re fishing in Central Florida. You also have children, I understand. … How did that dual life come about, and how do you manage it in terms of moving your family around?

T|F: Eight years ago, when I started guiding full time, I had the option of staying in the cold and snow guiding winter steelhead or heading to the sun and warmth to chase fish on the saltwater flats. It was an easy decision, for sure.  I met my wife down in Florida and being a native Floridian, moving North was not in the cards for her. So, we live full-time just outside Orlando, Florida with our 2 ½ old daughter Madison.

T|N|T: When you’re in Michigan, and not on the North Branch, where do you like to fish?

T|F: I really enjoy fishing all of the Au Sable and Upper Manistee river system. I wish I had more time to fish on my own, but I usually just pop out in front of the Lodge for an evening fish to get my dose.

T|N|T: Tell us a little about the Florida fishery and what you find exciting about that aspect of your life. I’ve fished a little in the Keys and over in Pine Island Sound when I stay on Sanibel, but have limited experience in the eastern part of Central Florida. What should I expect?

T|F: As most of us Midwestern fly anglers do in the winter time, I was watching a episode of Flip Pallot’s “Walker’s Cay Chronicles” and they were fishing a place called Mosquito Lagoon and catching a lot of nice Redfish on the fly. At the time, I was doing quite a bit of business in Florida and happened to be going to Florida the following week. I got on the Internet, talked to a few guides, and booked a trip. That was the start of my addiction.

Just 45 minutes east of Orlando, Mosquito Lagoon is one of most unique saltwater estuaries in the South. With almost no tides and the same salinity as the ocean, it is the only place where Redfish live and spawn in the same waters. That equals BIG FISH on the shallow grass flats. Mosquito Lagoon is located in the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge and is one of most pristine estuaries you will find in the state. So the combination of the beautiful surroundings, and the fabulous sight fishing for Redfish, and it was an easy decision to call Mosquito Lagoon my home waters in the South.

T|N|T: When a Michigander travels to Florida to fish in the salt, what are some general things you want them to understand and expect? Setting aside good distance casting, what are some skills you think are underdeveloped in the typical Midwestern fly angler when they approach saltwater angling?

T|F: First of all, fly fishing in saltwater is a totally different game then chasing trout, salmon, or steelhead. Casting is important with freshwater fly fishing, but casting is THE game in the salt. More then distance, accuracy in delivering that fly quickly to a target is the key. I would much rather have an angler be able to cast a fly 40’ quickly and accurately then 80’ but off the mark. Move that distance to 60ft with that same level of accuracy and your chances to hook up in the salt go up ten-fold. Being able to double-haul is also a key element in saltwater fly fishing. This really increases your line speed and enables you to cast the fly in windy conditions. The bottomline is if you want to be a good fly fisher in the salt, you’ve got to put your time in. The good thing is, once you become an accomplished saltwater angler, your entire fly fishing game is taken to the next level.

Ed. If you’re not familiar with Fuller’s North Branch Outing Club, you should definitely have a look at their fantastic website, and Capt. Todd’s Florida guiding business is also online, and features some fantastic photography and a solid fishing report.

Celebrated conservationist and fly-fisherman Calvin “Rusty” Gates Jr. died on December 19, 2009 at his home on the banks of the Au Sable River in Grayling, Michigan after a lengthy battle with lung cancer. He was 54 years old. Gates served as president of the Anglers of the Au Sable from its inception in 1987 until 2009. During this time he and his organization won several landmark legal cases in coldwater conservation.

“Rusty was a true treasure,” said Rebecca Humphries, Director of the Michigan Department of Natural Resources. “He loved the Holy Waters of the Au Sable and shared that love with countless individuals. He taught us that it is our duty to respect the resource and to protect it. His love of the river lives on in all of us. I have been truly blessed to know Rusty.”

Rusty doing what he loved best

Gates was the proprietor of Gates Au Sable Lodge, and an iconic fly-fishing personality. Rusty’s father Cal Gates Sr. moved his family to Grayling in 1970 and, along with his wife Mary, purchased the lodge on the banks of the Au Sable River. Cal Sr. had taught high school music, and Rusty played trombone in high school. But soon his passion for fly-fishing occupied most of his time. He began tying flies professionally at the age of 17, as well as guiding. At first Gates’ flies were sold in the corner of the restaurant at the lodge, but soon demand was great enough that the Gates family added a full-service fly-shop to the lodge. Eventually Rusty bought the lodge and operated it with his wife Julie, who ran the restaurant.

“Of all the strong conservationists in our world, Rusty was one of the toughest. He was tireless, and he was like a missile in his precision and deadly accuracy. Yet he never, ever, wanted credit for anything-just for the various groups he worked with, especially the Anglers of the Au Sable,” said Tom Rosenbauer, winner of the 2001 National Outdoor Book Award, and Marketing Director for the Orvis Company.

Gates Lodge is a place where thousands of anglers gather annually during fly fishing season from April through autumn. Rusty and Julie could be found there at all hours, tending to the smallest details of fly tying and gourmet cooking. With classical music playing in the background, the fly shop buzzed with patrons’ latest stories from the nearby woods and waters. Coffee flowed freely as anglers bent over the dozens of boxes of flies, hoping to pick correctly for the day ahead. Rusty Gates presided over the daily scene with eagle eyes, wry grin, and measured words. Fishing tips from this master were earned, not purchased. This tradition, while changed forever by Rusty’s passing, will continue in 2010 as Gates Lodge remains in business under the leadership of fly shop manager Josh Greenberg, who has worked for Rusty for the last 15 years.

“Rusty proved that people don’t fill their gas tank to fill their fry pan. They put on their waders to nourish their soul. Rusty did that for all of us, and our great-great-great grandkids. Sure, they won’t know it, but when one of them flips an Adams, or a Trico, over a rising brown in 2109 it will have Rusty’s name etched on it,” said Glen Sheppard, author/editor of the conservation newspaper The North Woods Call.

The quiet, unassuming Gates’ soon gained recognition for his expertise in fly-fishing, as well as his honesty and willingness to defend the resource. He developed a number of fly-patterns that became standard Au Sable fly patterns, introduced scores of people to the world of fly-fishing, and began to combine angling and conservation in such a way as to involve himself in some of the most influential coldwater issues in Michigan. In 1995 he was awarded the coveted Fly Rod and Reel Magazine “Angler of the Year” award for his conservation and cultural contributions to the sport of fly-fishing.

“Rusty Gates was a brave, smart, tireless champion of wild trout and the beautiful, magic places they abide. He lead by example; and he has touched and inspired us all,” said Ted Williams, noted Conservation Editor for Fly Rod and Reel.

In a legal case that would define his commitment to the Au Sable River, in 2003 Gates, as President of the Anglers of the Au Sable, challenged a US Forest Service lease that would allow exploratory drilling for gas below the famed Mason Tract section of the South Branch of the Au Sable. With the odds stacked against them, the Anglers prevailed in their case against the Forest Service, forever altering how the business of gas and oil exploration would be conducted in the fragile areas of Michigan.

“While Rusty will mainly be remembered for his role in protecting the Au Sable, he changed forever the way we look at and work to protect our water resources and wildlife. We owe it to Rusty to carry on his work and make sure children in every generation to come will be able to share the wonder and joy in Michigan’s wild places that are his legacy,” said Michigan Sierra Club President Anne Woiwode.

Calvin “Rusty” Gates, Jr. will be missed by the many who knew him. He was an intensely private man who could, when needed, organize hundreds of people around a cause. Considered by many as one of the most talented fundraisers and recruiters they’d ever met, Rusty will be remembered for his uninhibited love for the river and the river valley, and his steadfastness in doing what he and many others considered right and necessary for the resource. He is survived by his wife Julie, their children, and a large extended family.