The Fall River

When I was a kid my Dad took me fishing on nearly all our annual camping trips. He would buy a jar of bright pink power-bait and bobber and let me at it. I loved it. My Dad did most of the work while I just played waiting for that bobber to twitch.

After RJ and I met he taught me to fish rivers with a lure. Moving quickly from hole to hole as we bush-whacked along riverbanks. The fishing was okay. The bush-whacking not my favorite.

Then RJ returned to his first love, fly-fishing, and I was outfitted with a fly rod, reel, and a case of imitation bugs. I spent most of my time tangled. Once I got the hang of ten-and-two I enjoyed it more but must admit I never really loved fishing the way my husband does.

Enter the Fall River.

The first time I have truly, truly enjoyed fishing since my bobber days.

I can honestly say I had so much fun in the middle of that river wearing some cute teal and gray waders with crampons on my boots. 

I fished Tenkara. No reel. Just rod and fly. Back to basics.

I caught fish.

Lots of fish.

Decent sized fish that were fun to catch.

And, RJ was so pumped I was having fun he unhooked most of them for me. Major bonus in my world!

We stayed in a yurt right on the river.

RJ had meetings outside on the picnic bench while the kids and I looked for the goats that roam the property.

Yvon Chouinard, founder and owner of Patagonia, spent time with us there. 

Sharing fishing advice with my five-year-old and swapping stories over wine in camp mugs.

RJ put long hours on the river.

I got strong carrying 30+ lb Parker on my back while flicking my fishing line.

And Landon amazed us with his incredible patience fishing along the banks for hours on end.