As most of you know there are really two Washington’s in Washington State, the green sophisticated Seattle and the brown sagebrush rustic east side. I tend to forget that the culture shock works both ways, for example when I go to Seattle I’m always amazed at the number of people drinking bad coffee, wearing all black and going hatless even in the rain. A bit like caffeinated Raider fans, but friendly. So what follows is a tale of two Big City guys and they’re first fishing experience with me on the Yakima.

            The boys arrived driving a new Midnight Blue Mercedes 500 SEL not the greatest fishing car on earth but then again not bad. I just hoped we wouldn’t find the car stripped to the frame after our day on the water. After the introductions we put their gear in my 1989 Trooper and headed up to the boat launch.

 They didn’t have much to say about my classic fishing truck.

 Arriving at the put in I noted what appeared to a family in an old camper gutting out two deer. They had a fire going and a beer or two open as they tended to the skinning, I thought it was kind of a homey scene. One of the clients, Paul walked past them on his way to the outhouse and got a real close look and a quick chat with the hunters. It seems that little Tommy had shot his first buck. Paul had a horrified look in his eyes as pointed out two smaller kids riding the severed deer heads in the dirt, holding on to the horns Harley style. It was true they were covered in blood and dirt to their eyeballs; a kid can make a toy out of anything. The only thing Paul said was “ I’m from Detroit and I’ve never seen anything like this”. Not exactly like walking past the meat coolers at Whole Foods.

            Soon after we got the boat on the water I noticed that Jack and Paul were wearing beautiful wool sweaters and I commented on my personal affection for the fabric. I was wearing an old wool Army sweater myself.  Standing in the front of the boat, Jack turned slightly toward me and said “ Cashmere… Randal these sweaters are Cashmere with a Gore-Tex liner. Randal he said “ There is cashmere and then there is Cashmere and then there is Kashmir” Then resumed his casting. Now don’t I feel like a redneck rube.

            Jack was a guy that had fished all over the world and knew his way around a fly rod, he was quite and elegant caster but in the first hour of fishing he missed three huge rainbows coming for a size 8 foam stone fly. After the last near hook-up Jack made some comment on the quality of the guiding. I pointed out to him that he had already missed a number of good fish and that my job was simply to provide opportunity, or shall I do the fishing too? There was a long pause from the front of the boat; this is a defining moment in the guide/client relationship. Finally he said I was right and he was a little off his game. That is the definition of a class act, cashmere or no Kashmir.

            Paul and Jack have been back to fish with me many times since that first episode and have provided me with a lot of entertaining moments. Its not so much our contrasting lifestyles we share as the celebration of those differences. Thank goodness they’ve decided to leave the Mercedes at home.

Jack Irving retired as an executive VP with Nordstrom; Paul Pradel is a Financial Planner they both live in Seattle.