If You Give a Girl a Fishing Rod
By Sarah Snyder
Living at Yellowstone Lake is undoubtedly a unique experience filled with unbelievable stories, incredible people and a whole lot of exhaustion. In effort to keep the staff from going stir crazy, there’s an employee pub where we can go to let off some steam.
As a manager of a large department, I tend not to frequent the pub for fear that I see my employees doing something stupid - or more likely, they see me do something stupid. However, on one particular evening in early June, my friend Taylor convinced me to come out and be her wingman. I begrudgingly agreed.
About an hour into the evening during a painful game of pool against Taylor - a fun but unworthy opponent - a troop of dudes we had never seen before walk in and head directly towards our pool table to dap up her boy toy.
As I walk by, I hear one of them say, “I only have two dollars. What can I even do with this?”, as he waves the bills in his hand. In very classic “me” fashion, I respond combatively to this perfect stranger, “What do you mean? That’s two games of pool.” Four hours and many pool game victories later, there I was with a gaggle of fishermen. I was surrounded by a handful of surprisingly educated, reasonably drunk, and unquestionably enjoyable men.
It’s hard to miss the fact that these guys are either fishing guides or fishing fanatics. I’m almost certain about five minutes into meeting Connor in particular, I learned that (1) he’s a fishing guide, (2) he’s the best fishing guide, and (3) he owns his own boat and would love to take me out on the lake. I wish I could say that his shameless ego didn’t hook me immediately, but it did.
The next day, as fate would have it, we ran into each other at lunch and exchanged contact information. Just a few hours later , we had already made plans to take his boat out and go fishing. It’s very important to note here that while I’m from the deep South and grew up on a farm, fishing, and hunting are not in my blood. I am a staunch vegetarian and the thought of hooking an innocent fish for my own personal enjoyment sounded horrible to me, and yet there I was with plans to learn to fish.
Our first time on the boat, we didn’t really fish which was a relief to me. He “taught” me how to cast a spinning rod though somehow deep in my subconscious upon picking up the rod I went into autopilot and knew exactly what to do. We caught zero fish that day but we weren’t trying to. We talked until it became dark and we had to bring the boat back in.
One trip turned into twenty and I became something of a first mate. Connor taught me to work a downrigger, set trolling lines, and even how to drive his precious boat. I learned the art of fishing and not just the operational act of it. Hearing Connor talk about the intricacies of how fish can feel pain but don’t process it the way humans do made me understand the sport. Fishing takes attention, observation, adaptability, and a heck of a lot of patience - though patience is occasionally optional if you’re out with Connor. I swear that man can lead us to catch more fish than should be humanly possible.
I work a high-stress job and I tend to favor high-intensity hobbies. Before I met Connor, I would spend my free time multi-pitch rock climbing, training for IronMans, or ultra-distance running. Fishing for fun was far from normal for me. I didn’t know how to exist outside my job doing something that wasn’t sleeping, cleaning, or working out. Introducing fishing to my life taught me that I can have fun and relax at the same time.
In fishing, I have found peace in sitting with my feet up, shades on, and beer in hand staring at the rods waiting for any sign of a fish bite. I have found enjoyment and engagement in learning where fish hang out, what they bite, and why. Whoever convinced me that fishermen were just unintelligent old men silently sitting on a boat waiting for the fish to come was very wrong.
Side Note: Did you know the fish can’t actually hear you? If a fisherman ever shushes you because he doesn’t want you to spook the fish, go ahead and shush them right back. Apparently, they just say that to get you to shut the hell up.
While we’re on the subject of potential fishing fallacies, I’ve just learned (the hard way) that you can’t bring bananas onto a fishing boat. As crazy as it sounds, apparently it’s very true! I really feel like someone needs to tell Banana Boat to rename their sunscreen. Just saying.
Anywho, I was roped into a team-fishing trip with some of my fellow managers and, as food and beverage professionals, we brought snacks. I packed a very classic lunch for myself and Connor - sandwichs, chips, electrolyte drinks, and a banana. Somehow Connor spotted the bananas less than five minutes into the trip and aggressively asked what was in my bag. Completely confused I answered very matter-of-factly, “Bananas. Why?”. He half scoffs, half laughs, and says, “It’s a fishing boat. You can’t bring bananas.” Everyone in the boat cocks their head in a confused manner as Connor explains how its a superstition between mariners and anglers where if you bring bananas on a boat, you won’t catch any fish.
Now, mind you, Connor gets off on knowing that he is the best fishing guide in the park and he will happily tell you that he’s the only guide who has never been skunked, as they call it. Never in his four years of working here had a fishing trip where they caught zero fish. We were about to change that, or at least it seemed like it. After two hours of a few bites and no fish reeled in, you could see the stress building in sweet Connor’s face. But as luck, or he would say skill, would have it, we got a fish! And Connor remains the best and only unskunked guide at the marina.
Bananas or no bananas, Connor catches fish, but I catch bigger ones. He will happily admit that I caught the biggest and most impressive Cutthroat Trout he has ever seen. Fishing has become a large part of my life. (A sentence I never thought I’d say.) But I am so grateful for it. I’ve discovered that if you give a girl a fishing rod, she just might fall in love. In love with the people, it brings her close to, with the sport and the memories it inspires, with the world you can discover when you decide to look out and up.
If you give a girl a fishing rod, she’ll travel to places she never thought she would. She’ll meet incredible degenerates. She’ll learn to breathe.
Thank you for the fishing rod.
