Resident angler is bullish on trout fishing

I guided my cousin Dan Collin on the Woodland Valley Creek in Phoenicia, N.Y., last weekend.

Don’t be confused by the term. I did not impart great wisdom. I did not pass on hallowed lore.

In fact, mostly I lied.

Dan is a methodical guy. He asks sensible questions and, depending on the reply, he asks a relevant follow-up.

Good thing I can think on my feet and invent plausible reasons for doing what we were doing.

“Stand over there,� I said.

“Why?�

The real answer was, of course, so he couldn’t see me floundering around in my new rubber-soled wading boots, which I bought so I would not track the invasive rock snot around.

The boots are comfortable, lightweight, provide excellent support — and on wet rocks do a fair imitation of skates on ice.

But I couldn’t say that. I am ever mindful of pro fishing rule no. 17: Never admit, seldom deny, always distinguish.  (This works for politics, too.)

So I sketched out a scenario for the bit of stream, moving from place to place and fishing this run and that rock in this order.

Utter hooey, of course, but it sounded plausible.

After delivering one of my best Real Angler dissertations on what fly to use on a cool, wet August afternoon, I stumbled around the corner and tied on a bright red ant pattern, with white wings, that was part of a $2.99 per dozen panfish assortment purchased on impulse at Wal-Mart.

(I also  got a great deal on AAA batteries that trip. I have one thing that uses the batteries — the DVD remote. And I lost that. Seems likely it’s in the couch, but I am afraid to go too deep into this particular item of furniture.)

Anyway, the Cornell Ant drove the trout nuts, perhaps because they were hoping to watch me fall on my fundament while battling one of them.

And they weren’t disappointed.

Despite my advice, Dan caught a couple of trout. His cast is improving, and he is not easily discouraged.

I have attempted to teach what I know about fly-fishing to at least a couple of dozen people, and the more I do it the less I try to do. I get them to the point where the cast is going mostly where it’s wanted, and they can tie on a new fly or change tippets without my assistance.

Then I skedaddle and let them make their own mistakes.

And invent their own line of bull.