The 5 Essential Guide Gear Items

The 5 Essential Guide Gear Items

The most successful guides are the ones who are the most self-reliant.  If there is a possibility for an “Oh @W#%” moment, there is a plan, and more importantly, a box that contains all the items and tools necessary to overcome that obstacle.   Those boxes are built from about 20% foresight and 80% first hand experience of being unprepared, stuck on the water and looking like an idiot.  But a for guide, sometimes the most epic days of fishing or hunting start and end with the smallest of obstacles.  Obstacles that most people take for granted, such as waking up on time or bathing.   Most guides have little boxes for those situations too.  Here‘s what I put in mine.


1. A Reliable Alarm Clock
Cell phones and water don’t mix, no matter how much rice you cover it in.  If your day on the water, or in the field, with a guide starts at 8 a.m., your guide starts his day at 5 a.m. prepping lunches, packing coolers, and doing last minute checks on water, weather and gear.  Personally, I’m a snoozer.  I know I have three 5 minute snoozes before my alarm clock decides, “That’s it. If you’re still asleep, I’m not gonna waste my time and try to wake you up.”  That’s where a cell phone hidden under the bed, or still stuffed in a pant pocket comes in handy. Redundancy.  It works.  It’s the same principle behind nuclear launch codes.

2. Good Coffee
The real reason your guide has so much enthusiasm so early in the morning.   I don’t always have the luxury of electricity, or even a drive-thru coffee shop, so I pack accordingly.  Even in the most dire situations, I’m prepared with a jet boil, hand cranked bean grinder, a press and some good beans.       


3. First Aid Kit 
Selfishly, my first aid kit is loaded because I use it more on myself than others in emergency situations.  Most kits are pretty basic; Gauze, Band-Aids, Triple Antibiotic Cream, etc,.  Here are a few custom additions I always add.

 Nyquil: Not only does it work for the tough cold symptoms of Winter Olympians, it makes a great sleep aid without inducing a hangover.
  
Tums: Guide diets aren’t the always based on the healthiest of options, but more so, the one requiring the least amount of effort.  I once ate pizza for every meal for 48 hours.  The Tums helped.  Plus, I prefer my calcium in pastey, chalk form.

Advil/Ibprofen:  Good old vitamin A.  Always be prepared for a case of the I-B-Brokens. 


4. Flip Flops
 AKA flops, Lord Boards, Jesus Sandals, Slappies, call them whatever you’d like, but spending weeks or months in boots and wading sandals does funny things to the bottom of your feet.   You can always tell how many days a guide has been on the water, based on the pruney, morgue-like appearance of his feet.  At the end of a day, it's nice to put on a pair of dry flops to air out your feet.

5.  Hygiene Kit
There are certain inherit, occupational hygiene hazards of spending days upon days rowing down a river or hiking up and down hills chasing birds.  These include long hair, unkempt facial hair, itchy rear end and sweat stained hats, just to name a few.  Of course, a good hot shower will solve most of these symptoms.  But not all guides have access to this when they are living out of the back of their truck on the Missouri, or on a week long backcountry trip.  Here are a few simple cover-ups and cures for maintaining, or giving the illusion of,  a professional appearance.

Listerine:  The Pine-Sol of oral hygiene.  Whether you actually cleaned your teeth or not, at least it smells like you did.

Foot Powder: There’s nothing like realizing that weird smell in the room is actually emanating  from your feet.  Thank you, Dr. Scholls.

Moist Towelettes:  They do a great job of cleaning the lenses of your sunglasses and cleaning up after a shore lunch,  which is the professional reason a guide carries so many of them.  But in a pinch, they save you from the embarrassment of coming back to the boat or truck without a sock, or missing half of a sleeve.

Dr. Bronners:  One of the telltale signs of a freshly showered individual is wet hair.   Wet hair requires water.  Fortunately, fishing guides spend most of their day floating on this substance.  A good head dunk at the boat ramp, or a cupful of cooler water, and a little soap, go a long way fifteen minutes before you clients show up.  Plus, Dr. Bonners is a 100% biodegradable soap.

Deodorant:  Usually the final step in the daily ritual of a shower.  The beauty of this step, if done correctly, is that it implies that you didn’t actually sleep in the back of your truck next to your dog.  

A Final Note:

A much more experienced guide than myself once told me, “Just the like Wizard of Oz, if you pull away the curtain,  you'll find that there are a lot of levers and pulleys at work inside a guide’s head."

Hot Glue Eggs

I overheard a few guys mid-conversation at the local fly shop complaining about the current winter fishing conditions.

“Yeah, you can still catch fish on that river this time of year, if you’re willing to fish with that kind of stuff.”

As I picked up a box of size 10 scud hooks, I knew exactly what kind of stuff they were talking about, egg patterns.  I’m not proud. I like eggs, and it just so happens so do trout .  But complaining about what a fish eats is kind of a moot point, especially in the dead of winter.   If a trout ate dryer lent dubbed onto a hook, I’d have bagfuls saved in my laundry room. (Which probably isn’t a bad idea, based on what colors I had to wash that week)

Spinning hot glue on to a hook can make some great, realistic-looking eggs.   It’s also pretty good at producing beadheads.  Sure, egg patterns have their place, maybe not in the middle of a epic salmon fly hatch, but if you can’t be excited about fishing eggs in February, what can you be excited about?

A black Copper John with an egg for a head? It looks delicious

Tatanka...

Hunting wild chukars and huns on the Camas Prairie in Central Idaho

Tatanka - v (trans):  To try and use every bit and part of a bird for culinary or fly tying purposes

The first time I saw the movie Avatar, it was called Dances with Wolves.  And instead of giant smurfs with tails, it had Lakota Indians whose life was centered around big, furry mythical creatures with horns, called Tatanka.  -Oh, wait, those still exist. I got my movies confused.-   But in the resourceful spirit of the native peoples of the Great Plains, whenever I shoot a bird, I tatanka the heck out of them, skinny legs and all.


Demi-glace and Stocks

There's not much to little bird legs, which is why most hunters don’t keep them, but get enough of them, mix them with some bird feet, you’ll have yourself the perfect ingredients for demi and stock.  Demi is a super condensed flavor paste, traditionally made from roasted pork bones.  But the technique used with game birds can render some delightfully savory and mildly sweet flavors, perfect for gravy, sauces and soups.


Hungarian Partridge Demi

Ingredients:

A handful of legs
A handful of feet (*boiled and skin removed)
*This is key. I don’t always trust where a bird has put its feet, especially if it’s in a flight pen.

3 or 4 carrots roughly chopped
3 or 4 stalks of celery roughly chopped
1 onion roughly chopped
Salt and Pepper to taste

Don't be afraid

 Feet are full of connective, gelatinous goodness that will help thicken your stock or demi.

Directions:
It's going to take a good day of cooking for demi to happen (4-6 hours). Preferably pick a cold, winter one, where you are tied to your vise and angry at the weather anyway.  The good news is if you mess up, you’ll still have some pretty hefty stock that tastes great.

Pre-heat your oven to 350 or 400 degrees

Pan-sear your legs with a little olive oil in a heavy sauce pan.  (Be sure you like the pan you choose, because if you do it right, you’ll probably be eating the microscopic parts of the cooking surface.  I use cast-iron.  It holds heat evenly, and ingesting iron is good for your bones, right?)

Add the chopped vegetables, salt/pepper, feet and more olive oil;  then place the sauce pan in the oven to roast for a few hours.
(You want a good roast on your bird legs and feet,  a nice dark brown, where a lot of the meat sticks to the bottom of the pan. Those little burnt bits of goodness will be the base for your stock and demi.)

After peak roastness has been achieved, deglaze the bottom of the pan with a little white wine, and return the pan to the stove top.  Cover the ingredients with water, and reduce. And reduce, then add a little more water, then reduce. And reduce.  (This is the most time consuming process.  If you get tired of reducing, just leave it, strain out the vegetables and bird bits and you’ll have a nice stock.)

If you continue, you’ll  get a nice brown liquid from your ingredients. When this happens, strain out the remaining vegetables and bird parts.

Let the brown stock cool, and while doing so, strain out any fatness that rises to the surface with a cooking spoon or ladle.

Then back to the stove top and reduce. And reduce, until it thickens into a syrup, or sort of a thick runny paste. (similar to the consistency a jar of peanut butter left out in the sun)

There you go.  You just spent 6 hours boiling bird parts to get a ¼ cup of thick brown flavor goo.  But its worth it.  Demi is pretty potent stuff.  It only takes a teaspoon to add to water for stocks, soups or other sauces.  Just don’t tell people it had bird feet in it.

Tatanka...

The Proper Technique on How NOT to Spot and Stalk Carp

Ring Ring, “Hey it’s Carp, I can’t get to my phone right now, I’m probably out cruising around or laying up in the sun. Leave me a message and I‘ll try to get back to you!”

-Hey, its me, remember that one time we hooked up last spring?  I’m gonna be in town again this April, give me a holler if you’ll be around.

Ring Ring, “Hey it’s Carp…”

-Hey, I know this sound weird and all, but I saw this video of you online, sipping the surface.  Your lips drive me crazy.  How come you never do that for me?

Ring Ring, “Hey it’s Carp…”

-Hey, its me… again.  Um.. I just happened to walk past your place yesterday,  wasn’t sure if you got my message?  Didn’t look like you were home, soo.. I just sat in the bushes and waited.  Anyway.. Can’t wait to hear from you!

Ring Ring, “Hey it's Carp…”

-Hey, me again.  I was thinking about grabbing you some grub on my way out.   What would you prefer, a little worm caked in mud? Or something olive and leggy?  I know, I know, you’ll eat anything as long as it is on the bottom and slightly twitched in front of you.  …I miss you…

Ring Ring, “Hey its Carp…”

-Oh..ah.. I was just away from my phone for a few minutes, just checking to see if I missed your call. Hmm.. Guess not. Ok. Call me?

Ring Ring, “Hello?”

-Carp! Hey..I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Did you get any of my voicemails?

Yeah, uh ..there were 49 of them...About that one time… I’m probably gonna be really busy this spring.   There’s this huge party planned, once the water warms up.  Probably won’t  time have to talk.    But I did see you in the bushes the other day.. It looked like you had your rod in your hand? It creeped me out.  But you know, if you really want  me to turn my head, try practicing your cast…seriously.. [Click]

I've only failed the Drivers Test Once..

I remember a conversation with a fellow graduate student a few years ago regarding our plans after our impending graduation - The whole, "Oh s@#$, I won't be allowed in school anymore, what am I going to do with the rest my life? I need a plan!" situation.  My response was, "I don't have one, I have no clue where I'm going to be in 5 years, but I can't wait to find out."   Five years later, I've changed my residency 3 times, taken the written driver's test 4 times (I only failed once) and seen 38 states. --I reluctantly count Kansas because I had to there stop for gas--  It has been a journey to say the least, and an unexpected one at that.  And all because of a shotgun and a fly rod.  This winter finds me guiding in Idaho, with below freezing temperatures, two dogs, and a girlfriend who asked for a new pair of waders for Christmas.


I started Migrant Water three winters ago, to provide my hunters with a way to read about their day in the field, look at pictures, and to promote the outdoors in general.  Honestly, I assumed nobody ever read the thing.  But after the encouragement from a fellow guide at Wintergreen, I submitted some of my writing to the magazine Wildlife in North Carolina.

   
  This fall I saw my first article published, More Than a Brand, based on a post I had done on Migrant Waters.  Two months later, another article was published, A Different Look at First Light, based on my experiences of hunting wood ducks out of a kayak.  And this coming spring, I'll have another article on the comical experiences of turkey hunting with the Old Man.  So a lot of my time for writing has shifted.  Apparently writing is a lot harder than typing and pressing "Publish" on a blog.  
   So if  you haven't got your subscription to Wildlife in North Carolina, please do.  The illustrations accompanying my articles have been surperb and the folks there have been very kind to me.  Hopefully, I will have more material in print  throughout this year.

In other non-writing news, after a two week block of guiding for Flying B Ranch in Kamiah(kam-e-i), Idaho, I thought it would be a great idea to furnish our new home with a fostered shorthair puppy from their outstanding kennels. Her name is Gem, and I was told, "Bring her home for a bit, give her some people time, socialize her. Good hunting dogs, need good people time. " So I am proud to announce that under our care in the last month and a half, she has peed in 3 different peoples' houses(not including our own), on one couch(not our own) and on numerous spots on the rug(our own).   She has already learned several "tricks", such as "lets grab a sock and run outside in the snow before anybody notices" I did, two days later when it was standing upright and frozen solid.  And "The do you mind if I chew on you while to try to sleep game?" My 3yr old Brittany's favorite.  Not to forget, my personal favorite because it's always a surprise, "Guess what I just ate off the floor? You'll have to pry my mouth open to find out."  Who knew teaching tricks to a new puppy would be so easy.  

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned.

   

At the other office...

For the next couple of months, I'll be 60 miles up a dirt road.  No cell phone.  No newspaper. No T.V.  Working 12 hours a day.  But my cubicle has a helluvah view. If you want to see more pictures of the upcoming season, follow along via facebook on the Spotted Bear Ranch page. "Like" us at  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Spotted-Bear-Ranch-Where-the-Adventure-Begins/183619038356235?ref=hl

Here's just a preview of the past few weeks:

Thank You

Throughout the season,  I’m often asked, “So… how did you get into to guiding?”  The short version, I had an uncle who sort of laid the path before me -along with the help of two other guides, who I am forever in debt to for their encouragement.
So as this part of my season ends, I can’t say how fortunate I feel to eke out a living for the past five years sharing my passion for being outdoors.   It wouldn’t be possible without the people I am privileged to hunt and fish with.  So Thank You.  And to steal some words from Havilah Babcock.. the finest legacy a man could leave his grandson is a good gun and a good bird dog… 
I was lucky enough to have two.

The dogs are taking the summer off.  They've earned it.

The Zen of Fly-Tying

Sitting in front of a vise can almost be a form of monastic prayer for some fly tiers.   Many find it relaxing, meditative.  The inner voice quietly chanting, “ wrap, whip finish, repeat..”  It can be hours of repetitive motions that calms the mind.  Collecting one’s thoughts, and preparing for those long awaited moments of standing mid-stream.  A peaceful practice of patience that rewards a fisherman with neatly organized rows of freshly tied parachute adams or blue-winged olives.  Almost Zen-like.    But for me, fly-tying feels like a mixture of having O.C.D and the flu.   

At first, the symptoms start off small, usually with tiny midges, stuff that doesn’t take too much effort or material to tie.  Then it’s on to nymphs and my mind starts to drift, what if I added a leg here? Or oh that looks shiny, I’ll add that on top.    By the time I make it to streamers, it’s a full blown affliction. 

Some nights, as I struggle to fall asleep, my brain keeps imagining  pattern variations and possible materials, like a feverish dream that keeps repeating itself.  And my inner voice shouts “I need more flies.. girdle bugs.. mini-buggers… more streamers,.. I wish I had olive sexi-floss legs….”    It’s compulsive.

*Notice the folded bath mat on the left under the table. The price tag still attached. $12 for a liftetime supply of antron.
Also, it's not hording if you can still walk through the room....

 My fly tying room starts to look like a scene from the movie, A Beautiful Mind,   The one where they find the guy’s backyard shed littered with old maps and circled newspaper headlines amidst a maze of red yarn stretched wall to wall.   The audience has the heart-breaking but yet sympathetic reaction of, “..his condition has gotten worse..”
     I say fly tying room because it started off as a desk.  But five patterns in, and a dozen patches of deer hair, marabou, and shiny strips of streamer material scattered across the table, my mess has overflowed on to the floor.  My neatly organized boxes and bins strewn throughout the room like a little kid’s Lego collection.   And the only feeling I have when I finish a fly is a impulsive need to fish it immediately.  I want to know what it looks like underwater.  How it acts.  But I can’t.  Its 3 ‘o clock and I’m still wearing my pajamas pants.  And the nearest cold water stream is six hours away.  The pot of extra strength coffee doesn’t help either.  But as with most fevers, this will pass.  And I won’t tie again until mid-season, when I really need it.  I’ll clean up my caffeine-fueled frenzy of feathers and organize my freshly tied patterns in neat little rows.  But I know, next spring, when the pine pollen sticks the windshield of the car,  I’ll start thinking.. I need midges..

Pictures are worth a thousand words

Pictures are worth a thousand words....

With a busy bird season, it has been hard to sit down and collect my thoughts. I am often asked, “Well... What do you do on the days your not guiding?” - Honestly, I try not to do anything at all. Most my guide days start at 6 a.m and bookend at 6 p.m with a car ride home in the fading light. But in the hours in between, hopefully my camera has captured the words that have seemed to escape my fingers. In the end, it’s hard not to feel good about having a job that let’s you take your dogs to work everyday.  Oh.. and the view from my office isn't that bad either...

 

Hit or Miss

I’ve missed more wood ducks this year than I’d care to admit. I’m not one to keep a tally, or try to quantify a successful hunting experience based on the statistics of my shooting. But when you miss shots on ducks right on top of you, it hurts. And the experience tends to stick you with. It can haunt you. Missing close shots like that is really kind of embarrassing when you think about it. Two shots from my over/under probably puts out how many pellets? 75? Maybe 100? And I couldn’t put one of those on target at 10-20 yards? Its got to be the gun’s fault with those kind of figures. Or better yet, wrong chokes or wrong load. That’s the only logical explanation I can come up with, in the face of numbers like that. Mind-boggling. I couldn’t put one out of a hundred pellets on targert?!?! One out of a hundred…nope.

My brother is actually a pretty good shot. He claims that your pattern comes out as a cone and the key to successful shooting is to put the leading edge of that cone on your target, so as the bird continues to fly, the full pattern follows the target on its flight path. Makes sense, I guess, if you’re into science and mechanical physics. But after I saw every bird he shot one afternoon expel a spherically uniform poof of feathers, I politely told him, “Well, however your using your “cone“, you can clean all the birds next time, because I’m tired of hamburger.”

Regardless of my shooting, wood duck hunting is hard. And even harder to get them right on top of you. But once you’ve had squealing woodies coming in fast, feet down, and wings cupped, you’ll hold back on the treeline passing shots. Still, at best, it is hit or miss. But decoys do work. And if you know how to use a wood duck call, it helps too.