If you think Chandler and I are up for this, think again …

I’m sure most of you snickered when I mentioned toasting the lads at work with your prowess afield, naturally you’re waist deep in water - and their waist deep in something else - when the Boss peers over their shoulder.

All those electronic gadgets are here - just a question of who you want to delivery the photo to - and what caption will best get their goat.

Two ghillies on the River Tay are already online, posting daily updates of the water, fishing, and including a photo of every fish caught that day. Enough real-time intel to keep some hopeful fellow glued to the screen as his fishing reservation approaches.

It’s also a double edged sword, if someone says “you should of been here last week” - you can look it up and call them a liar on the spot.

Jock Monteith’s blog, Speycasting is a great way to drive interest, and migratory fish being as fickle as they are - a sudden flurry of catching would likely enhance bookings. I can’t see it as anything less than a boon to both guide and client.

Then again, driving your cubicle mates batty over that really enormous brown would be worthwhile also - they don’t have to know it was the lad next to you that caught it, and you offered a sawbuck to hold it …

Collaboration is always a touchy business and the idea of the Trout Underground and Singlebarbed alternately fishing and hunched over a laptop is unsettling.

Why? Trout fishermen lie about the size of their fish, where brownliners only lie to law enforcement…

“Nice fish Tom, he’d go, what - nearly 11 inches?”

“No, don’t use metrics, on my fish use superlatives. A ‘Penultimate specimen’ sounds bigger, see - trout aren’t slimy, they glisten, the sky isn’t blue, it’s azure - imbue the reader with the entire experience!”

“Oh, OK - how do you spell penultimate?

” s-e-v-e-n-t-e-e-n   i-n-c-h-e-s, the ’s’ is capitalized…

I want to be a Brownline guide, the fellow that props up a dusty 4X4, slouching nonchalantly while fingering all the sandwiches. After this weekend’s whirlwind tour of waterlike substance - and culverts containing same - I may have been hasty when I swore, “I will never guide again.”

Brownline fish are sophisticated, but not overly so; ATV’s mean we don’t have to carry “the Good Squire’s” luggage, don’t have to be quiet or stealthy, can discard beer cans without guilt, and yell helpful tips from the safety of the berm.

Blueline Guide: The Potamanthus Regenerarius will be coming off at 10 AM, we need to secure a vantage upstream so the “limp hackle, partially-reticulated-CDC-emerger sans  Carapace” can be fed downstream without drag.

More Tea?…

Brownline Guide: Put that big green fugger over by them bushes.

No. Them other bushes.

A little mystique will appeal to the 5 Star resort crowd; just enough to make heroic at the watercooler, and it wouldn’t hurt to nickname fish the “Ghost of the Flats”, or the “Phosphate Razor Blade,” adding local color.

Danger adds to our ability to charge huge bucks - so carrying some high powered, scoped cannon would be appropriate. It takes the attention away from your gut when silhouetted against the skyline.

Blueline Guide: Every so often you may run into a bear, just yell and it’ll scare them.

Brownline Guide: “Remain calm, hopefully we won’t run into any “Fescue Jaguars”, it’s mating season - them udders can get verrry sensitive - tear a man to pieces.

How old you say your daughter was?”

My ATV can carry a cooler in front and luggage in the rear. Slide to a stop in a spray of gravel and muddy water,  pose woodenly, ”Kemosabe, Big Fish - him upstream.”

Blueline Guide: That’s okay, a little bleach and it’ll be as good as new.

Brownline Guide: Kemosabe, him no ride, him smell like butt.

We can dispense with the silliness, no insect mating rituals or environmental issues, just things you don’t want on you, things you want to bite, and things you shouldn’t step in.

Blueline Guide: There’s a rather rough element at that bar, mostly loggers - if you want a couple drinks afterwards, the lodge offers …

Brownline Guide: Pass your sleeve over the neck before you hand her back, friend.

With the rural-urban interface close at hand, a Brownline guide can make a helluva spectacle, a Wild West show complete with irate farmers, gunplay, and the Big Showdown…

GangBanger: We’ll start with the Pasty Face’s wallet, Holmes, then maybe we’ll want yours too ..

Brownline Guide: I ain’t been paid yet, draw that Smokepole and see who sucks dinner through a straw (wink, wink).

A couple “Alexander Hamilton’s” to pay the actors and watch the superlatives fly - makes me misty eyed, kinda what I thought guiding would be…

Blueline Guide: Today, we have a piquant roast duckling with a Rosemary Garlic rub, and Mango Chutney…

Brownline Guide: (from the bridge above) … you want that SuperSized?

I might miss the tinkle of crystal dinnerware - just a little bit …

It could be the most sinister fishing excursion ever - what with the kids screaming in delight and your spouse forking over the Bonus Points by the shovel full …

With proper marketing and your ability to deliver with a straight face, it’s instant hero - “Poppa finally sees the light” - and rather than drag the family into the woods for another Mosquito-fest, “we’re going to Disneyworld!”

Just pack the tackle after dark, while Mom and those golden haired waifs can dream of Sugarplums without the cold light of day to interrupt.

The lakes were stocked in the 1960s with more than 70,000 young largemouth bass, which were allowed to grow undisturbed until fishing excursions were begun in 1977, Disney publicists say.

How you extricate yourself for a couple hours is your own look out, you could try the time honored, ” something disagreed with me at Cinderella’s Royal Table” or maybe “Goofy put his thumb in my soup.”

A two hour “catch and release” outing, with guide and boat is $250.00 - that means no evidence to dispose of and you can have the tackle stowed before Ma and the kids get back from breakfast.

It may be the “Perfect Crime” as $250 won’t even raise an eyebrow when Ma gets the credit card bill, she’ll be guilting over all the other expenditures and will assume she spent it.

Pick a guide with “Normal” ears - it won’t help your case any when Goofy or Mickey takes a weighted Clouser upside the head. The bandage alone will arouse your kids suspicions - especially after Goofy has to be dragged to your table for the follow-on breakfast.

Two prams pass each other on the river, two sun bronzed, flint-eyed “Clint Eastwood types” nod at each other in wary respect..

“How goes it, Bob?”

“Pretty fair, a couple of long-line releases, boated a couple, three runs - 2 hits, a couple left on base.”

“Same here, you going to be out later?

“Yep, I’ll probably chasing Golden Salmon this evening.”

Yes, the “steely eyed” part is pure fantasy; one guide was middle aged and balding, the other had a bad hangover and was wearing yesterday’s shirt. Both had the presence of mind to speak in “GuideSpeak.”

If you are fortunate enough to fish a river 100 of the 180 days of the season, there are few surprises left. Where the fish are and what they’ll be eating is well known. Boat and tackle will be identical and the only variance will be the skills of the client.

GuideSpeak allows “Clint” to talk about your success, without embarrasing you, him, the other guide, or the other guides clients. Guides always sound noncommital about fishing, as the other fellow may have had a bad day afield.

The above conversation can be loosely translated to mean:

“The sunburnt fellow in the bow has the reaction time of a Dimetrodon, he lost two (long line release) because he wouldn’t give them any slack, despite my screaming at him -  he landed two small fish that committed suicide by fish hook, we had plenty of grabs (3 runs, 2 hits), but “Mr. Dinosaur-reflexes” snapped the 5X on the strike (a couple left on base).”

No, guides are not making fun of you, as we were there once ourselves. This is shop-talk and in any business it is a testosterone-fest, rarely complimentary.

Guides love to fish, probably more than most as they dodge fishooks for a living. The “Golden Salmon” reference is the important part, as they are telling their pal where they will be fishing after they drop you off at the lodge.

If you can find that spot this evening, he will undoubtedly assist you without thought of compensation, as the “steely eyed outdoorsman” mask you saw earlier will be discarded - he used it this morning just to impress your daughter…

It is oft said that a domestic disturbance call is the most dangerous for a policeman. The disturbance part is run-of-the-mill, the domestic portion can spiral out of control at a moment’s notice, usually with the officer now defending himself against both combatants.

Guides fear a domestic engagement in the same way. Learning that tomorrow will be a Father-Son trip will cause even the hardiest veteran to blanch. The prospect of a sandwich comprised of a sulky youngster (with protruding lower lip), and an angry Poppa, looms foremost in a guide’s thoughts.

It doesn’t have to be this way, and for those well meaning anglers who consider this type of adventure, I will share some advice.

Rule 1:  You told your Dad to get stuffed, now it is payback time.

Passionate anglers, those that live for the out-of-doors adventure cannot instruct their blood-kin, nor anyone they are dating.  Just as you never quite took your dad seriously (what does he know), so are you perceived. The fascination and intricacy of the sport came to you later, not on the first lesson. Attempting to impart all of the wonderment to a child, wife, or girlfriend, on a single outing, will end badly.

You need a disinterested third party to assist, that’s where I come in.

Rule 2: Once you step in my boat, you are no longer the child’s father.

This is the deadliest of all sins, the Trip Killer, the single crime that will result in a child’s refusal to enjoy anything, arms folded formidably on chest, lip protrusion at maximum.

I can fix this if you’ll let me. But as the child’s father, chances are you will see it as your responsibility, and the situation will degrade further. Because you will never have seen this coming, let me explain what I saw…

Each time I mentioned where I wanted you to fish, and what fly you needed, and how you should fish it, you repeated the instructions to your kid. The child has perfect hearing, he heard me when I said it. Repeating the instructions (in the presence of a stranger) reaffirms that he is a child, likely incapable of understanding what was said the first time. If you continue this, he will be angry soon.

I am a professional guide, I have dealt with killers, aristocrats, alcoholics, beginners, transvestites, and politicians, I can ensure you and your progeny  have a wonderful time, that’s what I do. After your first cast I know who needs most of my attention, and I will direct my efforts on the weak player to overcome his/her unfamiliarity to the sport.

Likely I will ensure that your child out fishes you. All children want to best their Poppa at something, this may be his first trip ever, and what you really, really want - is for me to make him ask you “can he go again, next week.”

Rule 3: Frame the outing for the best results

Never take your girlfriend steelhead fishing, never insist the kid stay out in 105 degree temperatures. Fish are found in Nature, Nature is uncontrollable, be flexible and select the outing to match the temperment of the participants.

Your girlfriend has cold feet, and delights in tormenting you during the winter. Do not take this woman steelhead fishing in January, she will hate you, you will hate you, and when you look for sympathy from your pals, they are going to look in disbelief, “What were you thinking?”

Likewise with your son or daughter, plan a trip that has moderate weather so you can focus on fishing, not trembling uncontrollably, with “Can I Go Back to the Car” as the refrain.

No one likes trout fishing when it is 105 degrees in the shade, not even the trout. Ask the guide to map your trip around the comfortable hours of the day and evening, rather than gut out the terrible midday temperatures. Most will be happy to do so - they’ve had their head baked far too many days already.

Rule 4: Meet with the guide to discuss expectations

Prior to the trip, while the child is carrying gear to the water’s edge, talk with your guide. He can customize the day to appeal to various tastes, including songbirds and wildflowers. If he knows that your goal is to build you a “fishing buddy” - he will be thrilled to assist.  It is the Grand Experiment, and if you’re successful, he’ll be trying it on his recalcitrant snotty kid the following week.

If you know of particular likes and dislikes, communicate them. Sacrificing an hour of marginal fishing so that your spouse has the opportunity to examine Indian rock carvings, may be just what’s needed for your companion to have a quality adventure.

 Rule 5: If you draw blood from my body forcefully, you owe me

I bear the scars of instruction on my anatomy, punctured forcibly and repeatedly by clients. This is an unspoken rule, it does not involve money, and tipping will not get you out of the doghouse.

It is also the reason why I am going to insist your flies are barbless. I must navigate between anglers perched precariously in midstream - so if you add a weighted #4 Golden Stone to my cheek,  I will show no pain as I tear the hook out, I will also smile as I do so, reassuring your girlfriend so that she does not faint into 3 foot of fast moving water.

If you imbed something in your wife’s rear, I will leave the first aid kit where my car used to be parked.