Confessions of a Fly Fisher’s Wife #besthusbandintheworld

A few weeks ago I did something no wife should ever have to confess to doing. It was probably the worst thing I ever did in our 23-year relationship.


RIP to the fly rods.

After many long driving days, we found the perfect campsite along the Madison River in Montana. It was free, quiet and just a few steps away from world class fishing.

Jim got his gear ready and put his fly rods in the truck bed. It was a bit windy, so he opted to take his spinner rod out.

The scene of the crime, Ruby Creek Campground

He went down to the river while I stayed at the rig. A few minutes later I needed something from the truck. The wind blew hard while I fumbled around in the cab with the back door open. When I found what I needed, I slammed the door shut . . .

. . . Just as a gust of wind blew and knocked Jim’s fly rods into the door jam.

I simultaneously killed not just one rod but two. And one belonged to his father.

Sick to my stomach, I waited till he returned to confess what I did. I felt like I had committed murder.

Miraculously, he didn’t yell or stomp or cry. Basically all the things I would have done if the goods were mine. He was sad, and disappointed, but amazingly forgiving. 

And now I love this man even more than ever. #besthusbandintheworld

2 thoughts on “Confessions of a Fly Fisher’s Wife #besthusbandintheworld”

  1. If Jim offers to make you a special drink or meal in the next few days, have him sample first. He’s planning on killing you.
    Look on the bright side, trout will be dancing in the creek, Jim will be spared the frustration that a fly rod can deliver the user.
    My thoughts are with you.



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