Fishing with Jim Strogen reminded me of this philosophy professor I knew.
The professor spent his sabbatical in Italy, decoding Plato from the original Greek. I mean, I was impressed — but never really understood a word of it.
Jim’s spending his retirement lurking around the streams and fishing holes of Rim Country, translating trout into English.
The professor would collaborate for days with his colleagues to tease out the precise meaning of a phrase in ancient Greek.
Strogen has studied the swim patterns of the leech so intimately, he knows how to move his lure just right to entice the big ones.
Both geek out on the details.
Strogen covers the sport of fly fishing in a column for the Roundup. For those who have grandkids and love to fish, Strogen has a plethora of ideas on how to educate the tykes on the fly fishing lifestyle. He’s already tried it out on his grandsons and granddaughter. He’s been so successful, they have actually caught trout with a safety pin wrapped on a stick with line found in a tree — on one of the rare occasions when Jim didn’t bring them all poles.
Strogen, a former K-12 educator, has a passion for hooking newcomers on the sport.
So it was only a matter of time before he lured me and my up-for-anything husband, Pete, out to fish.
Strogen showed us some places on Tonto Creek.
Tonto Creek lies between Payson and Christopher Creek. It’s clear, covered in shade and runs near the fish hatchery. From late spring into early fall, Arizona Game and Fish stocks rainbow trout in the creek weekly.
I know a bit about fishing. My grandpa took me out on Lake Garfield up near Bemidji, Minn. to catch walleye and northern pike. But the fishing only required a life jacket and a long ride on a pontoon, dragging a lure along behind.
In Rim Country waters, I’m more of the PowerBait and plunk type gal.
It rarely works out well.
So I thanked my lucky stars when Strogen offered to rig up a line for me. I don’t have the first idea how to rig up two nymphs imitating whatever the heck it is trout eat.
Seems like Jim’s mastered trout speak — even down to knowing which insect larva is hatching on the stream bottom — and what the little buggers look like as they flit toward the surface.
Normally, I make a point of avoiding bugs of all morphs, especially the slimy kind crawling around under rocks on stream bottoms. It will not surprise you I wear water shoes when I dunk in local streams and rivers.
So Jim had Pete wade into the creek and hand him rocks so I could examine the creepy crawlies on the underside to understand my flies.
“See, this tiny one is the mayfly,” he said, showing a flea-sized wriggler. I could not imagine how my hairy little fly reminded the fish of this little thing.
I also learned the fish are watching.
“Don’t go on that side of the creek,” Jim warned as I crossed the stream to free the fly I’d gotten hopelessly tangled in a tree. “You’ll spook the fish.”
I rarely know where the fish are looking. I’m more interested in not getting my line tangled — and not falling in. Turns out, I’ve been spooking a lot more fish than I’ve been catching.
After watching Pete catch a fish with Strogen’s expert advice, we untangled my line and moved to another area.
The big pool called my name — but another angler tended his bobber from a camp chair with “Hotel California” blaring out the open door of his pickup. He seemed uninterested in moving.
So we moved downstream to a seemingly unpromising, rock-strewn area with swirls and eddies.
“There, in that little spot,” he said, pointing to a boulder downstream from a spillover and flanked by two large rocks.
“Toss it there in the eddy and strip it back and forth. You’re trying to mimic the insect as it would move in the current,” he said.
Holding the line tight against the pole with one hand, I moved the line up and down, pulling in and releasing a little line as I moved the pole tip back and forth.
Not 10 seconds later, I felt resistance.
“Keep the line tight and strip it in,” said Jim, reaching for the net slung across his back.
As the fish broke the surface, Jim scooped it up.
We all leaned in to look.
What a pretty fish, gleaming like a rainbow. He did look kind of surprised at his predicament. Lucky for him, Jim’s strictly catch-and-release.
“Now, you’ve just experienced that feeling …” said Jim, his voice trailed off.
“The thrill of the hunt?” I suggested.
“Yes. The strike. It’s a thrill,” he said.
Then again, sure helps when Jim rigs the pole.
Because I gotta admit, it’s still Greek to me.
To get there
To get to Tonto Creek, take Hwy. 260 east from Payson. The turnoff for the creek is opposite the turnoff to Kohl’s Ranch, a lodge with cabins and rooms. Continue up the road to any pullouts. The stream is only feet from the road.
From there, it’s up to the skill level.
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