“My father, Clarence, was the doctor in a small town in northern California. He worked hard and made house calls. But whenever he could escape the grind, he was on the water, fly fishing the mouth of the Van Duzen River where it meets the Eel.
He learned that love from his own father, Clarence Sr., who fished whenever and wherever he could. When Clarence Sr. was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, he retired immediately and moved to California, so he could walk down the hill from his house and fish the Eel River.
“My father, Clarence, was the doctor in a small town in northern California. Whenever he could escape the grind, he was on the water, fly fishing the mouth of the Van Duzen River where it meets the Eel.
He learned that love from his own father, who fished whenever and wherever he could. When he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, he retired immediately and moved to California so he could walk down the hill from his house and fish the Eel.
My older brother Dick learned to fly fish before he could ride a bike. Dick taught me. We’d ride our bikes to the Eel and bring salmon home balanced across our handlebars.
Dick grew up to be the most passionate fly fisherman I’ve ever known. A sculptor by trade, he eventually moved to Twin Bridges, Montana, where he became a guide.
Fly fishing has moved through our family the way rivers move — quietly, steadily, always finding its way forward. Both our sons fish. So do their children now.
They gave me something I didn’t fully understand at the time. Something I’ve been passing on ever since.”
— Doug, Portland
