Three carefully crafted bass poppers -- a gift from Dwight Caron -- a new fishing friend.
My real job is as an outdoor writer and columnist for two western Washington newspapers, and there is no better job in American journalism.
I'm not going to get rich, but I get to write about what I love, go to beautiful places and meet great people. Quite a few of those people become good friends.
About a week ago, a guy named Dwight Caron came up to me while I was working on a story about injured and wounded Fort Lewis soldiers learning to tie flies and fly fish. The program is called Project Healing Waters, and it is wonderful.
Anyway, Caron, who is a retired police officer, gently scolded me for recommending a bass popper from Megastore Cabela's in my yearly Father's Day gift guide. I do the gift guide to save my fellow anglers from opening up well-intentioned gifts of ties embroidered with wee images of trout or fancy Atlantic salmon flies.
Seriously, if you're going to give an angling dad a present, give him tackle. That goes for angling moms as well. I treasure all the angling gifts -- from hand-painted river pebbles to a fly tied onto a safety pin to a tiny fly box -- that my daughter Courtney has given me during her 19 years. I keep all these gifts -- talismans of love -- in a special part of my vest.
I told Caron, who was sporting an ear-to-ear smile, that I chose the Cabela's popper because it was easy to get -- and just about any kid could afford the less-than-$4 price tag. Caron clapped me on the shoulder and fished a little tin container out of his pocket.
Inside were three goggle-eyed, sparkle-dusted, hand-painted, fantastic bass poppers. Caron had tied them himself -- and they had clearly taken some time.
"These are for you," Caron said.
I -- a newspaper reporter for 17 years -- almost teared up on the spot. Caron then went back to helping a soldier suffering from the emotional impact of 14 months in Iraq tie her first-ever Woolly Bugger.
What is it about fishing that makes our hearts bigger and more generous? The older angler with time on his hands and gentle kindness is almost a cliche in our sport. But it happens often enough to be true most of the time. I see Northwestern anglers labor on stream restoration projects, trout and salmon spawning surveys, kid fishing days -- and even visiting military bases to bring hope to our veterans.
Is it the fishing -- the long, patient days on the water, where fitting into nature is the key to success? Does angling give us broader insights to the world? I hope so. I think so.
I try to never discuss politics with my fishing friends. Somehow, it seems wrong to bring the arguments of the day into such a timeless pastime. We can all be friends on the water, as we can all agree about the beauty of a trout porpoising on hatching mayflies or a bass sucking down a popping bug in a slow, swirling boil.
Maybe spending all that time running around outdoors makes the best parts of us grow -- at least for most of us. I suspect that is true for Dwight Caron. I know it is true for so many anglers that I know.
The anglers that never learn how to give or share -- these are the folks that have to win some weird contest every time they're on the water, hog the best water or somehow have to prove their worth by what they catch -- have missed the real message. Luckily, there are not many of these anglers around. None of them are my friends.
Anyway, I do plan to get those flies wet in a local bass lake during the next week or so -- at least two of them. I can't wait to see them gurgle and sputter across the glassy, late-evening water. I think I'm going to put the third goggle-eyed masterpiece on the shelf over my fly-tying desk -- to remind me of my new friend and to keep my heart open.
