My Friend ROY

That guy holding that gorgeous Kenai River RainBow is my friend Roy Morris from Butte Montana, home of Evel Knievel and Truzzolino Tamales. Roy and I spent our Freshman year at the University of Montana just down the hall from each other in Corbin Hall. He was a Photography major and I was head of the recreation committee in our dormitory. I came to Alaska and we lost track of each other but as fishing fate would have it after 35 years we were reunited through the thing we both love....fishin is the mission. Roy is best friends with one of my best friends sisters. We had a heartbreak situation occur and through all the sadness I met Roy, 35 years older but the same guy. How cool. As you can see from the pic above Roy has a sharp sense of humor and an appreciative view of life. He's a joy to be around and I'm glad to call him my buddy.......The following story came across my mail today written by Roy. You'll enjoy it as I did. Its about all of us of course and tells you a bit about my amigo, Roy.

Above is another one of Roys catches....he says every fish counts as one.

John Story

So we had pulled into the bottom of meat hole mostly to get out of the wind under that high bank and willows. There were 3 boats of us pulled in there. Below Greg and me were a couple of guys in a rented drift boat. One old boy slowly gets out of the boat with his rod and wading staff. He looks so unstable I'm thinking he may go down. Now he's about a half way between his boat and mine, I'm drinking a cup of tea watching this all unfold. The gentleman plants the staff into the river and leans his right hip into it. He's in just over his ankles and real unsteady. He takes the rod and kind of lifts the tip and plunks a pile of weight upstream. Interesting. It's raining hard now, blowing, wet, cold. Could blow him over I think. Plunk, plunk, plunk.......... whammo. Rod tip up. He's got one on. His buddy is pretty much ignoring the scene so I go over and net it for him. He's pleasant enough about it but he didn't need help. I say, "You probably don't need my help with this net do you?" He says, "Not really but thanks anyway." "Well if you hook up with a 23 incher I'll come back, otherwise I'll leave you alone." The rig he's using is a lot like a steelhead rig. Three huge shot at the end with a couple of flies at about 6" and 10" off blood knots. He told me it was his "plunking outfit". I made my way back to my cup of tea, just settled back in and WHAMMO! He looks over at me, I look at him. He nods, "Could use a net now." It's a very nice rainbow. I take his photo with it and give him my card. If would like the photo drop me an email and I'll send it. Figured I'd never hear from him again. He looks at the card, comments about the Butte address. Do I know his sister? Yep. Will then might I know his niece? Her and her husband own Bugs and Bullets. Yep, I know Katie and Ray pretty good. He tells me he's been coming to the Horn for 30 years. Comes to Montana for a few weeks every year. Heading to the Dillon area this week. Him and his 9 buddies rented a house on the bluff this year. Just as well they're leaving soon because they pretty much drank up the 9 cases of wine they brought. Dang. I sure admire John. He schwacked several more fish there before we moved on. John has the deal dialed in. It's just cool to see some old boy out there schwackin' fish, havin' a good time. He gives me great hope for what our futures can be. Hope to see you all out there 25 years from now. Maybe we could rent the bluff house, schwack fish all day and drink up 9 cases of wine. Hope so.R
So many fish, so little time.