Christina Assante
Let me preface this by saying… I am not a guide, not a casting instructor, and definitely
not experienced on the oars (as I learned and my son mentioned recently while
on a lake in Island Park) – but I am passionate about my fly fishing. It has become my outlet, a way to
center myself, to appreciate the beauty that surrounds me, and a legacy I hope
to pass on. I do not get to take
trips every week to exotic locations, but living near these abundantly
trout-filled waters I don’t feel the need to…
I am a wife of one and mom of three, originally an East
coaster, who was transferred out West (not kicking and screaming, but
definitely not completely sure of what we would find out here). Since we decided to stay in the
beautiful West, my husband encouraged me to find an outdoor hobby. I first wet a fly line three summers
ago; and thanks to a friend with a drift boat, a quick ducking capability in
the wind, and the nearby South Fork of the Snake, I quickly became enamored
with fly fishing. I was invited on
a few women’s only trips to Utah and Montana over the past two years, which
solidified my newfound love of the sport.
I have been blessed to meet some amazing women, who have mentored and
encouraged me in my fly fishing.
My husband has gotten me into the habit of taking more
pictures/videos than one needs of the fish that are landed, and GoPro videos of
those long distance releases. My
guides and friends have been amused by my use of three different electronics -
to make sure that I am able to share my experiences with my family and
friends. I often hear “which one
are you using now?”, “was I in that shot?”, and “you’ve got to send me that
one!”.
I am definitely addicted! And am now even dreaming of the anticipation of trips, the
frustrations of missing the hogs and their little brothers, the newfound
friendships, and of experiencing all of these with my children…
We’ve posted about a group of fly-fishing women who call themselves “The Quality Chicks” before (see here and here). Wade Fellin, of Big Hole Lodge, just sent us the next installment in the QC saga, involving the group’s newest member:
http://www.orvis.com/news/fly-fishing/quality-chick-lands-quality-fish/
Christina showed up at the Big Hole Lodge, just her second trip fly
fishing, ready to begin her journey toward mastering the sport. Her bags
weren’t even unpacked before she strung up a rod and began casting
practice with fellow Quality Chick, Chris, on the front lawn of the
lodge.
Over the course of the week, she caught numerous fish and even
completed the Big Hole River Grand Slam—catching a grayling, cutthroat,
rainbow, brookie, and brown all in one day. On her final day, guide Marc
took her and three other Chicks down to the Beaverhead River. After a
productive morning, the crew spread out table cloths under a sun tent on
Wheat’s Pond and sat down to a leisurely lunch. Or so they thought.
Two bites into her sandwich, Christina spotted a massive rainbow
cruising the shore near the tent. She grabbed her rod and carefully
flipped a crawfish pattern into the moss in front of the fish. She
waited until the big ‘bow swam within sight of her fly, and then she
twitched it ever so slightly, just enough to give it the illusion of a
live crawfish burying itself in the moss. BAM! The rainbow
flicked its tail and dove on the fly. As soon as it felt the hook, it
was running across the lake like a bonefish, peeling line off
Christina’s reel and taking her well into her backing.
And then it ran back, sending Christina back-pedaling to the
barbed-wire fence surrounding the lake. Her line caught in the fence
briefly, then wrapped around her legs just as the fish turned for
another run. Marc saw what was bound to ensue and leapt from his lunch.
He ran to Christina, stuck out his arm, and shouted, “Grab my arm and
lift your legs!” As Christina did a one armed pull-up on Marc’s arm,
fellow guide, Mike, untangled the line from her feet. All the while,
the three were shuffling toward the shore as the rainbow tugged them
from the other side of the line. At this point it was unclear who had
caught whom.
In the end, Christina was admiring her conquered trout through the lens
of her underwater camera as Marc revived the fish near shore.
