A buddy of mine called me up to go fishing on opening day this past weekend. He had a boat and I had a fresh box of flies, dried through the winter. It seems, however, that our local fishing hole is getting busier and busier as word gets out on our secret river. Fly-fisherman from all over the country, in their Orvis waders and custom wood-kit boats show up, and take all the good holes.
People complain of the Californian migration to Idaho ruining real estate values. Who are these outsiders coming in to take away from our quality of life? (I arrived from Texas via Vegas only four years ago so I say the previous with a little irony.)
While pulling in my second big rainbow of the trip we started talking about how we need to import another California custom ... localism. Surfers protect their favorite breaks all up and down the California coastline. Why can't Idahoans get all "local" on these yuppified fly fishermen?
So how can you tell who's an outsider? Well, to the trained eye, it can be easy. First off, when peeing into the river, they complain how cold the water is. Idahoans comment on how deep it is, too. Outsiders don't have fish guts on their hats. They usually have kids in the boat (locals bring kids solely to bail). They have a can of "gourmet" beer in their cuzzis. And the final tell: Their waders don't have patches.