This is a guest post from a buddy of mine who currently guides for native steelhead on the chalk streams of Central Texas. The story is true. The names and certain locations may have been changed to protect the identities of those concerned. For example, there really aren’t steelhead in the chalk streams of Central Texas.
Shitty Clients, Part I
By the Unknown Fishing Guide
The Unknown Fishing Guide with a not-shitty client, circa 1942
Let me preface this story (so that I don’t sound like a jack-ass holier than thou guide who cares nothing about teaching, education, conservation and only about catching fish) with the fact that out of the 1,000+ guide trips I have ran in the last 10 years, there have been exactly 2 people I would never fish with again. In fact one of the best things that guiding has given me is great relationships with people from around the country that I have met as fishing clients and with whom I have became very close friends.
This particular gentleman, we’ll call him Dick, started out our trip in a particularly interesting way. After the normal morning “hey hows it going, here’s where we are floating, here’s what to expect” we hopped in my pickup and drove down into the Yakima canyon. About 2 miles out of town, Dick says: “You know, Fords are pieces of shit, you need to get a GMC.” Ok, I thought, I’ve had good luck with my truck, but he’s welcome to his opinion. We continue down the road, making small talk, and he follows up the truck comment with this gem: “Eastern Washington is the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen, it’s full of nothing but hillbillies and rednecks”. I thought that was a little rough, especially from someone from Boston, and who had seen two of the prettier places in Washington: The Klickitat and Yakima canyons. Certainly there were our share of Hillbillies in the 509, but no more than anywhere else in the west, and substantially less than Idaho. However, I was still going to college, and although an asshole so far, some people turn it around when your fishing, and I really needed the money.
We finally arrived at the river, got the boat in the water, and rowed down to a nice pod of trout eating blue wings. The night before we fished together, Dick and my boss had dinner together, and had talked about the Green river in Utah, one of the better trout factories in the country. For those of you unfamiliar with the Yakima, it will never be mistaken for the quality of the Green. It is a unique river with it’s proximity to Seattle, but at 1,300 trout per mile in it’s densest stretch it can’t hold the jock strap of the Green. Dick quickly caught two trout out of the pod, and completed the trifecta, “This Yakima is just like the Green” he said “full of dumb fucking trout”.
The third time was the charm, and I realized at this point that nothing I could do as a fishing guide was going to please Dick, so I gave advice as needed, treated him as nicely as I could, and continued to work hard to put him on fish. On our second day of fishing we floated half of the day before a monsoon that had engulfed the state of Washington caught up to us, and the river blew out. Still several miles from the finish line, this provided Dick an opportunity to share with me his knowledge and firm belief in Bigfoot. Were it not for this hour long discussion I would have never learned that Bigfoot is most certainly real, and can turn your brain off with alpha brain waves. Dick was particularly interested in the time I had spent in Forks, one of the more popular Bigfoot spots around. Of course I couldn’t help leading him on a little bit, and after two days of dealing with his shitty attitude towards life, at least the last hour was entertaining.
###
We hope you enjoyed this guest post by the Unknown Fishing Guide. The staff at the Unaccomplished Angler hope to bring more, similar stories in the future, as evidenced by the “Part 1” designation in the title. If you are an Unknown Fishing Guide and need a safe, anonymous forum in which to vent tell your story, please contact our editorial offices. Your secret is safe with us.
You should have a place for clients who will never use a guide again. I have a good story about showing up to a trip and finding my guide still half drunk from the night before. He fell asleep a few times during our float and was kind of a pain in the ass to be around all day.
I guess what really teed me off about the whole thing was that he drove us to the drop off spot in the morning still pretty $hit faced, wreaking like alcohol. When the guy I was with said something to him about it, the guide made a pretty smart ass remark to him. Regardless, we didn’t tip him much and the guy I was with, who happened to be the president of our 200+ member fishing club, told the membership to never use his service again.
So, sans my rant, it can stink from both sides!
This is the place for all good guest posts, JGR. If you got something good, send ‘er in. Sounds like your guide experience is worth a lengthy write up. I’ve never had any experience even remotely similar to what you described…a guy that irresponsible should probably be outed publicly. He’s a liability.
What if I recognize this fishing guide? I won’t out him, but I want some bonus points, a +1, or a “like” for my ability to recognize this guide by his net. I just hope I am not the other guy.
+1, Ivan. His net precedes him.
[insert funny “Dick” joke here]
Tee hee…you said “Dick”
eeeh oooooooooo!
Yep, I know that dude. I am pretty sure of that
Have you fished for Texas steel? Maybe you met him while doing so…
i recognize the pose………it’s gotta be……………
Nah, couldn’t be…
Wow!
What a mental giant. Everybody knows Bigfoots is Aliens.
Damn straight, Stan!
Those alpha brain waves are some serious stuff. He wasn’t talking about apple pies and tinker toys here. Phew….
Wound a little tight, methinks…
Nobody has better stories than guides…please pass along my thanks for an entertaining read.
Perhaps he will chime in, although none of us would ever know because his identity is very hush hush. Suffice it to say he could probably write a book similar to Henry Winklers: I
NeverMet An Idiot On The RiverHEY! I’m from Boston (North of Boston actually). Good thing for me that I’ve never fished the TX chalk streams for steel. We stick to the Lake Ontario Tributaries.
Being from Boston, I have NO TROUBLE believing this story. The area is filled with guys like him…. For all of the decent sports from the Boston area, please accept ‘our’ apologies for him.
I’ve no doubt, Ed, that there are 10 good guys to every “Dick” like him, whether in Boston or elsewhere. I’m just glad I’m not a fly fishing guide, for many reasons. Thanks for the comment.
I realized I couldn’t be a guide pretty fast because I couldn’t stand to hear wealthy clients that were totally inept tell me about all the great places they’ve been around the world! The wealthy guys are all the guys that have adverse political opinions too and I’m not inclined to entertain bullshit for anything – not even money!
What?! Chuck, you strike me as a yes-man, willing to say or do anything to please someone else 😉 I’d never be a guide because I suck.
Not sure who the guide is but……. i know who the other ass in the picture is.
Joe,
Sorry, but I was having an off day. But Chevy trucks do rule:)
Albacore, friends don’t let friends drive Chevy’s…that being said, anytime you’re driving to a fishing destination, I’m happy to ride along with you.
Albacore, friends don’t let friends drive Chevy’s…that being said, anytime you’re driving to a fishing destination, I’m happy to join you.