I learned to fly-fish while I lived in New England. I was stationed at Fort Devens in Massachusetts when I retired from the Army and ended up staying around, but not for long. I joined a local church and there were a group of fly-fishermen that attended, and one took me under his wing and taught me most of what I know today.

So, as I said I did not stay up North for very long and found myself just outside Dallas Texas. My wife had been offered a job there and the New England winters had gotten to us so off we went. It was shortly after arriving and unpacking our moving boxes I decided to take the cardboard to the local dump. Pulling up to the entrance I noticed a small creek running along the other side of the dirt road. I took my boxes to the recycling area and on my way out I stopped by the creek. It has been, and still is, my habit to carry an inexpensive 5wt and a few flies behind the seat of the truck. I put the rod together, strung it up and made my way down the bank to the creek. Immediately I started catching good sized bluegill and little bank-runner bass. I saw a truck pull up behind mine and a real cowboy got out, cowboy hat and boots and all. He came up to me and said: “What are you doing, there ain’t no trout in there.” I explained I was catching bluegills and bass and how fly-fishing is not for trout only. As if on cue, a three-quarter pound bass jumped my foam spider and I quickly hauled it in to show my observer. Without a word, he turned and walked away, got in his truck and spewed gravel as he left in a hurry. I wondered if I had said something to offend him. Not 10 minutes later the same truck pulls up again and this time two cowboys get out and head my way. I can hear the first telling the second how: “This fellow is catching bass on a fly rod.” I proceed to show them the rod and little foam spiders I was using and how I cast it to any likely spot in the little slow-moving creek. After catching a few fish, I offer the rod to one of them and with not much guidance he plops the spider down and a healthy bluegill sucks it down. Before long the two of them are trading turns after each one lands a fish. We must have spent an hour wearing out the bluegills and bass. I do believe I made two fly-fisherman that day by the side of the road in Carrollton Texas.