Paul E. Robertson
March 4-7, 2024

I enjoy fly fishing on streams that I can wade. I enjoy tent camping on a flyfishing trip. I enjoy catching fish on a fly rod. But, sometimes, a flyfishing trip is more important than catching fish. Such was this trip with Tom Daugherty. I have known Tom since August 2009. At that time he joined our Memorial Hermann Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) team as an interim CPE Supervisor. He ended up staying with us until March 2012. During those years we had a wonderful collegiality as we worked together to rebuild our CPE department, which had lost several CPE Supervisors in the prior year or so. 

In addition to being work colleagues, we developed a deep friendship in those years. During that time we discovered we had a mutual interest in fly fishing. Tom was the one who introduced me to the Texas FlyFishers of Houston club. With his encouragement I took the Fly Fishing Academy course and the Introduction to Fly Tying course. I went through the Fly Tying course a second time to be with Tom. During those years we did not fish together often, as both of our lives were quite full with work, family, and other activities. 

After Tom left Memorial Hermann, he went on to do interim work at several other CPE programs in Texas and New Mexico, but we stayed in close contact. In April 2013, I was diagnosed with Mantle Cell Lymphoma and started a regimen of chemotherapy. As part of making sense that journey, I started writing what I would call “One TentMaker’s Hike Thru the Confusion and Chaos of Cancer.” The term “TentMaker” came from reference to the Apostle Paul. I used the hiking metaphor, as prior to the cancer diagnosis I had been quite involved in backpacking as my way of connecting to the outdoors. Sometime in that chemo process, I began to loose my hair. I recall standing in the shower and seeing my fallen-out hair on the shower floor. I got out of the shower, went to the sink, and cut off what was left of my hair. It was an act of defiance and an attempt to remain somewhat in control. I wrote about this in my newsletter and posted a picture of me bald. I will never forget an experience a few days later. I was sitting in my office and I received an email from Tom. A picture was attached of him sporting his new bald head look. He had cut off his hair as a symbol of his solidarity with me in the journey! I just sat in front of the computer and wept. Tom went on to say then, as he has many times since, that he would be with me in the journey until the end. Since then we have been “brothers.” Of course, at that time, we both thought the journey might be 4-5 years, which was the average life expectancy for Mantle Cell Lymphoma at the time. Thankfully the life expectancy has improved considerably since then with the on-going research and development. 

 In August of that year, Tom and Jerilyn invited Judy and me to visit them at their cabin in Raton, NM. This would become the first of quite a few trips to the cabin. I had just finished chemo and was recovering physically. The next year when we went back to the cabin, Tom and I scheduled a guided fly fishing trip with Doc Thompson on the Cimarron River. On that trip I caught my first trout. That propelled me into a slow, but methodical journey of immersing myself more into fly fishing and some trout fishing (little did I know I was preparing for retirement). For quite a few years, Judy and I made an annual trip to the cabin in Raton, and Tom and I fly fished on those trips. We fished the Cimarron, but also other places in NM like the Pecos River, the Rio Costilla in the Valley Vidal, and the Rio de los Pinos. In addition, we have done quite a few other flyfishing excursions together through the years. 

 I don’t remember the exact year, but I’d guess maybe around 2008 or so, Tom invited me to join him on a trip to the Guadalupe River. For several years, we spend a few days there. In 2021 Tom did not renew his membership with the Guadalupe River Trout Unlimited (GRTU) Lease Access Program (LAP). So, I decided to join. Thus began what has now been three seasons of flyfishing on the Guadalupe River. For each of those seasons I have spent over 20 days on the river. It has been wonderful. Since Tom did not join the GRTU LAP, it became my opportunity to invite him. For each of the last three years Tom and I have met at the Guadalupe for a few days of fishing. In 2022, Tom and Jerilynn relocated to Burleson, TX, making the trips even more meaningful as a way of staying connected. 

All this is background to the trip we took recently. In the past, we have camped, and we have stayed at a hotel in New Braunfels. This year we decided to stay at the Horseshoe Riverside Lodge which would give us easy access to the water and a place to rest mid-day. We had a beautiful patio and view of the river. We arrived Monday afternoon, got settled and went fishing on the river right below the lodge. As we were preparing to fish, I remembered these words, “Fly fishing is the most beautiful way of trying to catch a fish; not the most efficient, just as ballet is the most beautiful way of moving the body between two points, not the most direct. Fly fishing is to fishing as ballet is to walking.” (Howell Raines) 

 Because the weather was quite warm, we had decided to fish in the mornings, 7:00-10:00 a.m.; eat a big lunch; fish again as it was cooling down, about 4:00-6:30 p.m.; and then have a lite snack in the room in the evening. That routine worked out quite well. 

 After fishing on Tuesday morning, we had lunch at the Wildflour Artisan Bakery and Grill in Canyon Lake. It was quite warm so we enjoyed the break before fishing that evening. On the evening outing, I noticed a caddis hatch and a trout rise in some soft water off the side of a run. I decided to try a dry fly rig (top water for you non-flyfishers) and ended up getting eight takes on a dry fly with a soft hackle fly trailing behind it. I got three of them almost to the net before they got free. That was okay, since I was going to let them go anyway. I was fighting most of them downstream which put a lot more pressure on them. 

 Wednesday was a little cooler. For lunch we tried out a fairly new restaurant in town, Elios Osteria e Pizzaria. We had a delightful meal on the patio. Before our evening fishing we decided to explore a little upstream from the lodge. We made our way up to an abandoned watermill. To my surprise it was actually turning, though it wasn’t connected to anything. But we took in the sights and sounds, wondering about the history of the watermill. We then waded further up to a weir, just taking in the beauty. After all, “You will never be a flyfisher if you don’t love nature. No matter how good the fishing, you will spend more time looking at flowing water, mountain sunsets, diving birds, and clouds of mayflies than you will spend catching fish. In fact, I think that the reason I love flyfishing so much is that it is the thing that connects me to the energy, beauty, drama, and peace of Nature.” (Peter Kaminsky) 

 We had hoped to catch a hatch that evening and do some dry fly fishing. “I’d heard through the grapevine that a hatch should be on, so this was somewhere between an act of faith and wishful thinking.” (John Geirach) There was a small hatch, but we didn’t do so well on the catching. We did notice that a fly fisherman just upstream from us did a little better. Nevertheless the fishing was great. Though we didn’t catch a lot of fish, as Janaa Bialek once said, “Only an extraordinary person would purposely risk being outsmarted by a creature often less than twelve inches long, over and over again.” 

 Tom headed home Thursday morning. We got up early, packed up and said our goodbyes at 6:45 a.m. 

 I decided to fish for the morning before heading home. I went further downstream than where Tom and I had fished. The water was little warm, but I found some fish. I ended up hooking 5 trout (landed 3), 3 carp (landed 1), and 8 sunfish. I guess the warmer water had the carp and sunfish more active. We had some wonderful times fishing, enjoying nature, and catching up. Some trips are more about friendship than they are about catching. If you’re alone when the fishing is slow it means one thing, and another if you are with a friend. This was one of those lucky times I was able to be with a friend, who is like a brother. 

 “Fly fishing reminds me to slow down, live now, let go. I cast as I breath. I retrieve line to the rhythm of my heart beating. And so, I stand in the river casting back and forth, trying to lose that feeling of being alone. It is then that the rainbow rises and takes my offering. I raise my rod, and all at once, I am no longer alone. I am connected to his powerful runs, facing into the current. Silver line connects us, both fighting to live—two beating hearts. He comes to my net. I hold him gently, rocking him back and forth in the cold rushing water. ‘Gain your strength, dear warrior,’ I say. Am I speaking to him or to myself? With a kick of his tail, he returns to the river—and I go with him.” 
       ~Steve Ramirez