While standing at the guard rail observing a section of the Beaverkill several seasons ago, another gentleman pulled over and proceeded to do the same. After several minutes and not seeing much happening on the water we both return to our cars, a nod and polite "hello", we strike up a conversation about this and that and how this is his favorite spot to just observe and take note of what might or might not be hatching and fish working etc etc, before he hits the East Branch. My reply of course was that I had not yet fished the East Branch, as I had only been fishing for 3 or 4 season to that point. "Why don't you tag along I'll show you some good spots", (me) "um yeah sure if you don't mind, thanks". I get in my car and follow him stopping at several locations along the EB but not yet fishing, just showing me places of interest. Some time just before dark 7ish I think, we gear up at a spot he considers promising. At this point we finally get beyond general conversations and exchange names, where we live what we do etc. Apparently Art is well traveled and had done more fishing/guiding/writing than I will in two life times. None of this registers as I am quite green and not very well read in the ways of trout, (have done much reading and studying since). We have a great couple of hours fishing a section of the EB, not doing very well but still very enjoyable, fishing sulphers. Unfortunately I would love to tell you Art put me into amazing fishing, which come to think of it he probably did, but I just didn't have the skill. (1 LDR)
My host of the EB didn't fare well either and blamed it on a new rod he was trying out.
Leaving the river it was very late and dark and we shared a couple of beers stream side before heading our separate ways. Had I know at the time who I was fishing with, it probably wouldn't have been as fun. I am sure I would have stressed about the perfect cast and this and that and what a fool I am making of myself. But looking back, that has to be one of the more enjoyable times I have had on a river with a compete stranger.
The next morning two of my buddies came up for the day to fish the Beaverkill and on the front seat of his car was a copy of "Fishing Dry Flies for Trout on Rivers and Streams" by Art Lee.
"hey I was fishing with that guy last night"
The next week I got an email from Art for my address, two weeks later I received a signed copy.
Pretty cool, I have yet to go back and explore the lower EB since then, maybe this year?
You never know who'll meet stream side, all it takes is a simple hello.