For everything that isn't fun about social media sometimes, there are a lot of gems to find out there as well. The other day I came across an older post that Michigan guide Sean McKellip Fly Fishing made on his Facebook page and I asked if I could share the experience here. Enjoy.
Sean wrote... "As I sit here and think of the time I’ve spent in my guide boat, I often wonder what has become of a few individuals that I have shared the river with. Some trips tend to really stick in your mind. The days that I get kids in the boat always tend to really stand out, as do the trips where the people really just want to be on the river. In this case it was a last minute call from the shop asking if I could run a riverboat through the Holy Waters section of the Au Sable that day for a gentleman.
I showed up at the shop not knowing what to really expect. I was informed the gentleman I was taking was frail. As a matter of fact, I was assured that if I needed help getting him in and out of the boat someone would meet me at the launch and takeout. Now hearing this throws a bit of anxiety into a guide's mind. Especially since it is hard enough for an able bodied man or woman to be successful on the Au Sable as our fish don't take kindly to sloppy presentations. So right off the bat, before I even met this gentleman I was thinking, “How am I going to get this guy a few fish?”
As our trip time approached a camper van pulled into the parking lot. Not knowing if it was him, I waited in the shop a bit talking with a friend. The door from the van opened and yet no one came out. Roughly five minutes later someone started to get out of the van very slowly. A man stepped out that was very distinguished yet withered and frail. His eyes were tired with pain; legs not helping his cause. He wore a nice fishing hat and had on very baggy clothes. The suspenders he wore kept his slacks up and it was obvious this gentleman had been through something that had taken its toll. I walked outside to meet him. At this time I was thinking, “What did I get myself into?” I could see him struggling, so we kept the greetings short and headed to the river for a half-day float.
After I tended to the boat and gear, I helped him into the boat. It wasn't quite as difficult as I thought it would be really. As I was getting the fly tied on he spoke to me telling me about how he would like the trip to go. He told me he had cancer and was just cleared and released from the hospital a couple days before. He said he had doubts he could fish for four hours and that he would like it to just be a nice quiet trip down the river. I obliged very willingly.
As we started down the river he just sat and took in the whole of what is the Au Sable. Ten minutes or so passed and he pulled some line out and started to cast. What I was expecting was the exact opposite of what I was seeing. I was shocked really. This frail older gentleman was casting a fly to spots that don't get casted to by many that set foot in my boat. A few fish were landed, and I could see youth and happiness in his eyes. For a couple hours you could see what he once was. The energy and enthusiasm was there and everything was perfect.
There wasn't much talking on the trip other than when a trout was put to hand. It just seemed right that way. As the float progressed I could see his casting starting to deteriorate. I could tell the pain that was once lost for a few hours was creeping back into his being. As we slipped into one of the most historical areas of the Holy Waters it happened. A nice fish was hooked. It was all he could do to keep it out of the sweepers on 6X tippet. Not even thinking I jumped out of the boat with net in hand almost up to my shoulders in icy cold water with no waders on. I jumped through a few logs on the bottom and got below the boat to net the fish. The smile on his face and little chuckle I'll always remember.
After the whole jumbled up mess of me trying to figure out how I was going to get back in the boat in almost shoulder deep water we started downriver again. He then put down his fly rod and said he was done; he could do no more. It was obvious it took everything he had in him to fish those couple hours, so I pushed us down to the takeout.
I'm not sure what he was thinking as I pushed us out that day. I only know what I was thinking. Life and family was all I could think of. I could only dream of having a passion so strong that as soon as I was released from the jail that is Cancer I'd look to the river for support and youthfulness. I think people underestimate the power of a passion like fly fishing. Yes, it may not heal your body or bones, but it definitely heals your mind and soul.
I arrived at the takeout not worrying anymore how to get the gentleman out of the boat. It took a lot more strength then getting him in. But in the end it was nothing compared to what I would have done to help this fine old man on his journey of a new life. We got back to the shop and said our goodbyes. I sat in my car and watched as he crawled into the back of his camper van to nap before his journey continued."
Planning a trip up north in Michigan this year? Reach out to Sean McKellip Fly Fishing for some time on the hallowed waters around northern Michigan.
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