[Editor’s Note: Here’s an oldie but a goodie from Simon Perkins, whom I sit next to every day here at Orvis HQ.]
On many occasions, I’ve been accused of being a ruthless purist—by friends, by family, and by total strangers. I’ve tried to seek help. I’ve talked to professionals. I’ve tried to surrender myself to the dark side. I’ve tried to fall head over heels in love with the grace and beauty of a drifting indicator. But nothing has worked. I can enjoy nymph fishing, and I have proven this several times. However, more often than not I choose to be stubborn. On a slow day, I’ll often fixate on working a dry fly the entire time, hoping for that one visual eat. Because, as we all know, it doesn’t get any better than that.
Last summer, on an afternoon in late July, I floated the upper Missouri River near Craig, Montana with Brandon Boedecker (owner of PRO Outfitters), who also shares my dry-fly obsession. Luckily we didn’t need to be stubborn—the caddisfly and PMD hatches were thick, and big fish were sipping everywhere. We brought a camera. The fishing was epic. And just before dark, with barely enough light to see the fly (we were still four miles from the takeout), we were able to catch a moment on film that for us defined the true spectacle of dry fly fishing.