I can’t be the only person who feels this way.

You go on a fishing trip to unknown waters where there are going to be crowds. You’re unsure about what the energy will be. Competitive? Territorial? Downright rude? I must confess that I have a tendency to expect the worst from my fellow man (or woman). But, we can always hope for the best. And on my first solo run to the Erie tribs for steelhead, I got hopes and dreams and better angels.

It started Thursday morning when I was speed wading in the dark to the mark I wanted to fish. I could see headlamps bobbing in the woods upstream. I could tell they were moving at a slower pace, and as I closed ground I could see it was a guide with three clients. I caught up to them, and asked the guide where he was heading; in my mind, they were there first and would get dibs. I reassured him that I wasn’t going to race ahead and Bogart their water. The guide was appreciative, so much in fact that he asked for my cell number. His idea was that if I was blanking and they were pounding them, I could fish near them. Or if vice versa, we could share water.

It was a most excellent way to start a day. I was so excited by this conversation that I suddenly realized I was 100 yards past my mark. (I suspect the pre-daylight savings darkness had something to do with it, too.)

Cut to an hour later. First light. I saw Chris wading upstream toward me. I’d met Chris the day before when I came to the creek to scout some water with my guide, Bob Packey. Chris was new to fly fishing and had a positive energy and friendly spirit. He remarked how he’d seen me pounding fish up yesterday, and that he was having a tougher go of it. So I told him that if he was blanking, come find me later and we’ll see what we can do about it.

Around 11am, Chris shows up. I could tell from the look on his face that he had been struggling. He confirmed that he hadn’t had a touch. Come on in here, Chris, and let’s take a look at your rig. I didn’t like the size or placement of his shot, so we re-rigged. I told him what I’d learned about the 50-foot run I’d been working, how I had been approaching it, and where I thought he’d have success.

You can imagine how cool it must have been for Chris to hook up within a few casts. All told, he got into four steelhead in about a half hour. Chris’ excitement was matched only by the positive wave of sheer enjoyment that washed over me as I watched him do battle.

The next day, I fished for just over two hours. I saw an angler looking for space, and I told him if he cared to wait, he could have my spot in 10 minutes. He did, and I ended that session with a smile on my face.

Thanksgiving is a season when we acknowledge the many blessings we have. I’m thankful to have met some nice people on the river. I’m thankful for the opportunity to give to someone in need. I’m a confident person, but I am humbled by this experience. Thank you for reading, and please do likewise the next time you fish.