Although it maintained a humble exterior, the montanna dude ranch where I was to meet my latest clients much more than a bunkhouse affair. A chef with a tall white hat prepared gourmet meals; the massage sign up sheet was posted on an easel by the front desk; the fax and copy machine was to the left. I stepped out of my vehicle to meet my client and his wife. He was strong and solidly built. He looked like a model from a outdoor catalog. The fishing vest was stiff with newness; all of the correct hardware, shiny and untested, hung from his chest like tools in a toolshed. Tue felt on his wading boots was as white as snow. A handcrafted net swing on his back. The rod had never got wet, much less caught a fish, and the line was shiny from lack of use. The reel was on bacward. Typical beginner I thaught. I reached out to shake his hand and a firm grip came back to greet me. His wife, an attractive women brimming with confidence took a photo of us than waved a goodbye with an arm. First I turned his reel around. He smiled and shrugged. Than we began casting lesson in the lawn behind the main lodge. To my suprise he was one of those rare people who connect with a flyrod almost immediately. It just looked right from the beginning and he was charmed by the way the line seemed to magically flow above his silhouette on the lawn. "I could just stand here all day and cast" he said smiling. We did not have to travel far to the water, since a perfectly sweet little creek ran along the last six miles of the rutted dirt road I had traveled to that morning. The warmth of the sun raised the water tempeture enough to awaken the rainbow and cutthroat trout that slumbered, and the caddis flies were dancing their erratic dance here and there I've the water. Even in hip waters we were overdressed for the ankle deep creek, but we stepped in, waded out to the middle and faced upstream. My client cast, he pointed to the place the fly should land. "Oh hey! Look at that" he said when the first fish struck. He was truly awed. The second time a trout struck his shouts of surprise and joy rang up and down the creek and we happily reeled in a sparkling eight inch wild rainbow. "isn't that beautiful?" he said softly and every trout after that was beautiful, incredible, amazing, fantastic. A little brook trout took the fly and I held it so my client could see the blue rings around the bright orange spots. "that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen" he said with sincerity. To be with someone who was able to treasure the moment the way he did made me feel like I was exploring fly fishing for the first time. I showed him how to keep his fly from dragging, how to fish deeper pools. He was absorbed by the why's and the how's and the execution. And the fish weather 6 inches or 10 were praised like precious stones. About late afternoon when the skin begins to feel sore from a fresh sunburn, my client stopped fly fishing.... His shoulders dropped and he paused to look at the water and the trees and finally at me. " I have to tell you something" he said. " this has been one of the best days of my life. The reason I'm telling you this is I wasn't supposed to be here right now. I've been very sick and the doctors didn't think I was going to make it. I wasn't sure I was going to make it, but I've been well since last fall and everything is fine now. My wife gave me this equipment because I've always wanted to flyfish and this trip is kind of a celebration for our family. This really has been one of the best days of my life" I could not speak. I looked into his eyes and nodded. He smiled at me and cast again. We left the creek only after hearing the triangle ringing for dinner in the distance. His wife was waitingon the front porch of their cabin, embraced him and asked how he had done. "Fantastic absolutely fantastic" his children, a seven year old girl and a teenage boy followed him inside interrupting eachother to tell him what they had done that day. I could see that the dark cloud that hung over them for so long had passes, and they were finally able to enjoy something as simple as being a family. Down the dirt road my vehicle bounced over ruts and rocks as I followed the creek that had given us fantastic beautiful amazing trout. The next day there would be new fisherman to meet. And I would not stiff expensive cloths or a backward mounted reel deceive me into thinking he had nothing to teach me.... This story came from a women that is a guide. She said that she almost turned it down but thaught something was going to come out of this. Now she takes everyday as a new chance for something. This touched me. I may be sixteen but my I have been fishing all those years and started fly fishing years ago. I love it. It changed me. I need to relax I go out into the river to fish and soak in beauty. If you have any story's or comments about fishing share them. I'd like to hear of them and so would others. Sorry about the spelling it was from her email.