Adventures of Pudge

WYOMING SUMMER: PART I

Pudge was excited. This summer they were going to take a long trip in which they would be away from home all summer

instead of the usual two or three weeks they took during his dad’s vacation. Mr. Hammond worked for the railroad but, until

this year, had seldom been on a train. As baggage master his job had been to supervise the loading and unloading of

luggage and other items shipped on the trains, including several heavily guarded monthly payroll shipments.

This year Mr. Hammond had received the good news that he would be promoted in September. He would replace his

boss, who was retiring. In the meantime, the railroad wanted him to travel to Wyoming and, for the summer months, take

over as station master there. The railroad would pay all the expenses to move his family and would also provide a furnished

house for them to live in as well as a car to use while there.

As it was for the summer only, and Pudge would be out of school, Mr. And Mrs. Hammond accepted it as a pleasant

change for all. Of course, Pudge would be away from his friends but they often went away for lengthy periods themselves.

For the past two weeks Pudge had been helping his mother and dad sort out personal belongings as they tried to

decide what they needed to take with them to Wyoming. They would need to take their fishing tackle, Mr. Hammond even

went out and bought brand new fly rods for all of them. The trout fishing in the area they were going to was said to be superb.

School would be out tomorrow. Pudge could hardly wait the four more days left before they embarked on their great

adventure.

For twelve year old Pudge this was a major adventure. He had been on trains before but his past experiences could

never equal this one. The train they were on was a Trans-Continental Special and was very luxurious. Besides, as his father

was an employee, Pudge had the freedom to go anywhere he wanted on the train. He rode for a time with the engineer in

the locomotive and was greatly impressed by the job at hand. He also went in and out of the dining car freely and each time

he passed the kitchen the cook had a special treat for him. To Pudge the trip ended too soon. Four days after leaving their

home in Wayton, Massachusetts they arrived in the small western community of Caleb, Wyoming.

All of this was a new experience for Pudge. He had studied about the western United States in school, mainly about

problems the settlers had during the western expansion. Pudge half expected the train to be attacked by tomahawk wielding

Indians. The countryside was something Pudge had not expected, it was so vastly different from home. Here, there were

few large trees; most of the vegetation was short bushes that were not familiar to Pudge.

The first comment Mr. Hammond made when they alighted from the train was, “Welcome to Caleb, Wyoming, population

2321, the cattle center of western Wyoming.

The house that they were to live in was a huge frame structure next to the train station with porches all around and a

single large shade tree in the front yard. There was very little other vegetation and no fences. This was so much different

from Pudge's ’New England town where each house was surrounded by a fence and had a well kept lawn. Pudge’s first

thought was, “No lawn to mow.”

“We have two days to get settled and then I will have to go to work,” declared Mr. Hammond. “It shouldn’t take us that

long as all we have to unpack is our clothes and personal items. Perhaps we’ll have time to get in some fishing.”

“Oh boy,” exclaimed Pudge. “But where do we go fishing? It doesn’t look like there’s any water around here.”

Pudge was certainly correct in his statement. Everything looked so dry that it appeared there couldn’t be any water for

hundreds of miles.

Mr. Hammond pointed to a range of mountains off in the distance. “There’s a river flowing out of those mountains that

cuts across the range about 15 miles west of here. If we drive about 20 miles to the foothills and fish upstream from there we

should find good fishing. I came here with my dad for a vacation when I was your age and, at that time, the fishing was

excellent. We caught a lot of trout that were 18 inches or larger as well as many smaller ones. Of course, the fishing now

might not be as good as it was twenty-five years ago.”

For the next several hours Pudge and his parents were busy carrying their belongings from the station to the house and

packing them away in their proper places. Pudge had a large room on the second floor with a large casement window

overlooking the back yard. He had two large walk-in closets in which he could hang his clothes and store the few

possessions he had brought. By three that afternoon the family had finished their unpacking chores.

“Well,” said Mrs. Hammond, “everything is packed away. I hope I can find things when I need them.”

“Let’s go for a ride,” suggested Pudge’s dad. “Perhaps we can find the river and check out the fishing possibilities.”

Mrs. Hammond got busy loading a picnic basket while Pudge and his dad got the fishing gear together. When they went

out to pack these items in the “car” they found it to be an old Ford station wagon that looked like it had seen better days. Mr.

Hammond had been assured that it was in good running condition and was trustworthy for all kinds of roads and traveling

conditions. The tires looked to be in good shape and when the engine was started it ran smoothly.

In no time, after studying some maps they found in the glove compartment, the family was on its way. They stopped at

the local hardware store for fishing licenses and then turned onto a washboardy, dirt road that extended in a straight line to

the mountains.

“The road is good so far,” said Mr. Hammond. “Wait until we reach the hills; I’m sure it won’t be as good then.”

This proved to be the case. As they neared the river the land began to rise in front of them and the road became a

winding one that rose, gently at first, and then more steeply into the hills. Their views of the mountains became clearer and

they could see signs of heavy forest cover further up the slope.

Suddenly the river appeared next to them. At this point it was quite wide and slow moving.

“We will need to drive higher up to find a stretch we can fish,” said Mr. Hammond. “This section is too slow and too wide

to be good fish holding water.”

This also proved to be true. As their route took them further into the mountains the river’s character changed. No longer

a wide, sluggish river, it now became a swiftly moving one with long pools interspersed with water cascading past large

boulders. Large pine trees lined the banks and the air felt much cooler than the hot, dry heat they had experienced in town.

Mr. Hammond stopped in a clearing next to the river and helped his wife unload the car and spread out an old blanket to

be used later for a picnic supper.

“This looks as good a spot as any,” declared Mr. Hammond. “Let’s give it a try for an hour or so before we eat.”

Soon, all three had put on hip boots and strung their new fly rods an were making their way to the river’s edge.

“Pudge, you need to watch for a while until you get the idea of the technique involved in casting a fly,” said his father.

“You can wade with me and watch how it’s done, then give it a try yourself.”

Mrs. Hammond, meanwhile, had waded into the water and was standing next to a large boulder, making long, sweeping

casts upstream, letting her fly float leisurely toward her. On about her fifth or sixth cast a trout rose to her fly but she, in her

eagerness, struck too quickly and missed setting the hook.

Ruefully she turned toward them and hollered, “He must have been at least three feet long.”

“Yah, sure,” said her husband with a grin. “And the first one you catch will be so huge it will drag you with it.”

Before he had even finished his statement Mrs. Hammond had recast and hooked a fish. Pudge watched fascinated.

This was a side of his mother he had not seen before. She was a good cook and housekeeper but Pudge had never seen

her in a role other than wife and mother. In no time she was able to reel the fish in and hold it up for all to see. It was a lively,

beautifully colored rainbow trout about ten inches long.

“Good pan size, keep it for breakfast,” advised Mr. Hammond. Following this comment Pudge and his dad waded into

the river about fifty yards downstream from where Mrs. Hammond was fishing.

Pudge watched as his dad made a number of long, graceful casts to a pool a short distance upstream. “Watch the

technique,” Mr. Hammond advised. “I’m little rusty but I think I can still provide a lesson for you. Watch my wrist, also watch

how I lift the fly off the water and make several false casts to dry off the fly. It’s important to make your casts slow and gentle

and not crack the line like a whip. If you do you will snap the fly off. Watch also how the fly is allowed to settle gently on the

water.”

After watching for a short time Pudge decided he was ready to try. He stepped up next to his dad and said, “My turn.”

On his first cast Pudge heard his line snap and when he examined his leader found that he had lost his fly.

“More gently, Son,” suggested Mr. Hammond. “It’s a difficult technique to learn but once you learn it you’ll be able to

catch many trout. And there’s no fishing more exciting or satisfying.”

Pudge went back to practicing and within a short time was able to make a reasonable, but short cast. On one of his

casts a trout rose but Pudge’s over-eager strike caused him to miss.

In the meantime, his dad had caught three pan-sized trout which he put in his creel for breakfast. Mrs. Hammond had

also caught two more so their breakfast was complete. Pudge was disappointed that he had not caught any trout when his

parents decided it was time to quit for the day. But there would be many other days this summer, of that he was sure.