Everyone loves when summer rolls around, I mean, look at all the fun things there are to do. You’ve got climbing, hiking, biking, fishing, long boarding, rafting, weddings.

Wait, weddings? Did that just conjure up images of dressing your best, going to a stuffy ceremony, mingling with the soap opera groups we like to call families and then getting silly drunk at the reception where someone almost always makes a fool of themselves and can never live the story down?

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I am sure Izaak Walton shifted in his grave. An excerpt from Walton to the Reader of The Compleat Angler or The Contemplative Man’s Recreation:

“I think all that love this game (fly-fishing) may here learn something that will be worth their money, if they be not poor and needy men; and in case they be, I then wish them to forebear to buy it; for I write not to get money, but for pleasure, and this Discourse boasts of no more; for I hate to promise much and deceive the Reader”

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Flat Creek is a legendary cutthroat trout stream in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. If you fish, you’ve probably heard of it. Here’s a quick look, from thesnaz.com, at opening day, August 1, 2007.

Guiding is hard enough if you are working with two distinctly different people, but if you have two best friends, about the same age, size and ability named Frank, the confusion factor is higher, especially when the excitement heats up.

Here’s the story:

After fishing for four days strait, and heading into the final day of the fishing week, I threw out the option to the group:

“What kind of experience would be the best way to wrap-up your ideal Patagonia fishing week?”

I knew I had the Franks for the next day, two best friends who had traveled to hunt and fish all over the globe together. Over a few glasses of wine and some quiet back and forth nudging and recollection, they announced that they wanted to spend the day taking it easy on a high mountain lake, being rowed around the tullies (weeds that form the apron of almost every body of still water in southern Chile), and dry fly fish for trophies.

“We had our best luck with big fish on the lake,” Frank added.

“My shoulder is sore, and I want to watch Frank catch some fish and relax,” the other Frank said.

“10-4! Sounds like a great plan.” I was really excited in knowing that the fishing jury had delivered a unanimous verdict of outstanding fishing everyday a guest had fished flat water in our lagoons and lakes. The fish seemed to be really concentrated on the outer edge of the weed-line feeding on both dragonflies and cicada beetles. The lake was the perfect answer, so with one day to go, and two guys named Frank, the plan was set; how could we fail?

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In March, southern Chile is heading into fall: Gauchos move cattle to market; firewood trucks are loaded for delivery to surrounding villages; cool air mornings pull fog off the surface of the rivers; large flocks of migratory birds head to lower elevations and big brown trout migrate into thin water to attract a spawning mate.

Because of the consistently mild weather, fishing out of our lodge near Rio Cisnes (River of the Swan) made for long stretches of grasshopper fishing on the riverbanks, dragonfly hatches on the lagunas and a huge Cicada Beetle ‘hatch’ that could scare the average arachnophobe into cardiac arrest.

When this abundant beetle hatch comes around every so many years, browns anchor themselves below “beetle trees” awaiting a meal the size of a charcoal briquette…BIG FOOD!

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Sure, most people think marmots are cute but we all know that in reality, there is a sinister air about them.

They love your food, and they will do anything within their power to steal it from you. Don’t you ever wonder why some marmots are so goddamn fat? And if you think that food is the only thing the little bastards want to steal, think again. Same goes with your sweat soaked shirts or hats. The little kleptos love those. I’ve had the pleasure of getting not only a shirt stolen by one, but a hat as well. Probably by the same little f**ker.

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As summer rolls into town, so do a number of other multi-wheeled vehicles. They come to do the Yellowstone/Grand Teton RV safari.

Living in a tourist town (approximately four million visitors pass through Jackson in a year) can be frustrating, but it’s also a solid economic base, a renewable resource. Although we’re mostly happy to see people experiencing the beauty of Jackson (the whole loving it to death thing is another story that we can get to later), summer’s are the worst.

There seems to be this invisible barrier at the edge of town, and when crossed by incoming visitors, all traffic laws that are applicable everywhere else in the country just evaporate. Stoplights are for decorative purposes only, right hand turns from the left hand lane are perfectly normal, driving 15 mph in a 55 zone is standard operating procedure and stopping in the middle of the highway to take pictures doesn’t earn a second thought.

Road biking in Jackson is a contact sport. Read More »