The Meandering Angler 

Camelot for a few brief shining moments

My quest for “Fly-fisher’s Camelot,” led Dottie and me to Henry’s Fork Lodge near Island Park, Idaho, last month.   It is a lovely place, easily the nicest fishing lodge in which we’d ever stayed.   Designed by a renowned architect, nestled in the pines by a world-famous river, hosted by a delightful, gracious, professional staff serving the most delicious meals we’ve ever enjoyed on the side of a beautiful trout stream, it was about as good as it gets.

With a glass of wine in hand, relaxing on the lodge’s porch with our Sonoma friends overlooking the Henry’s Fork River the first night, I thought. “If tomorrow’s fishing matches the near perfection of the lodge, Dottie and I have found our fly-fishing paradise.

In retrospect, after decades of musing and dreaming about it, I should have realized that the concept of a perfect fly-fishing experience presents a paradox.  What if on the day following our arrival at the lodge, the fishing was fantastic and we caught big, beautiful trout on virtually every cast all day long?  How long before we got tired and bored?  It would be something like “shooting fish in a barrel.”  

Fortunately, the fishing wasn’t like that. 

The Henry’s Fork is like a lot of the trout streams Dottie and I have fished, interesting, challenging, surprising, slow, fast, and everything in between.  There were fish there, some of them quite large. But, they were not easy. Getting them to take a fly required skill, coaching from our guide, and luck. It was exciting when we managed to do it all correctly.  At other times, it was exciting because something unexpected happened, like when a big rainbow trout grabbed my fly while it was resting in the water inches from the side of the boat. Often it was just a pleasant drift down the river.

We didn’t catch fish with every cast, nor did we expect to. Good major league baseball players get a hit approximately every fourth try.  Most good fly-fishers would call it a fantastic day if they connected with a fish on one in ten. We were not that lucky.  Still, except for one day when the river was blown out by an unexpected releases from an upstream dam, we enjoyed fair to good fishing

We had our Camelot moments, when it seemed every cast was perfect and a fish rose exactly where we expected, and we played them just right, admired their beauty for a few seconds and then returned them to water.  But those episodes were mixed with lots of misses, lost fish, tangles, and long drifts with no action at all.

Before we booked this trip, I read that the Henry’s Fork was “heaven on Earth if you like catching big fish.”  Another writer said that the “…river truly lives up to its reputation.”

No it doesn’t.  Not always.  No river does.  And that’s why we call our sport “fishing,” and not “catching.”

Would I recommend a fly-fishing trip to the Henry’s Fork River?  Absolutely.  Would I recommend staying at Henry’s Fork Lodge?  Yes, if money is no object.  It is a lovely place to stay and the people who run it are the best.  But there are other options for the budget conscious angler.  

One thing more, timing is everything, and it is probably the hardest to get just right, especially when you plan a trip months in advance.  Our timing was off in the sense that there wasn’t much of a hatch (few bugs in the air). I understand that spring is better time for consistent dry fly fishing on that river.

Was it my fly-fishers Camelot?  No, but I’m not disappointed.There were times when we might have drifted through Camelot for a few brief shining moments. 

The quest goes on.