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Woods, Waters, and Wildlife
One of my favorite fishing partners is retired State Game Warden, Jonathan Gray. He recently hung up his badge at Texas Parks and Wildlife Department’s Law Enforcement Headquarters after wearing the rank of major in charge of Internal Affairs. We’ve spent more time talking about fishing than we’ve enjoyed together on the water. To most anglers, that counts, too.
His son, Jon, Jr. is also an accomplished angler. He fished at tournaments with his father and learned a lot. After High School, he planned to apply for the Texas Game Warden Academy. Texas State University in San Marcos has a Criminal Justice program that’s excellent preparation for Academy applicants, so he enrolled. Four years later, he graduated. Earlier, Jon had gotten his guide’s license and was already professionally guiding anglers before graduating high school. When he got to San Marcos, he found something he was becoming more interested in besides law enforcement. A river named for the town (or vice versa) runs through San Marcos. It’s one of the most enticing fishing streams imaginable.
Jon may have taken one look at the river and decided to give guiding fly anglers a try on it and other Hill Country streams – like the Guadalupe and Colorado. He soon got his own inflatable river boat and now specializes in guiding fly-anglers. Don’t let that scare you off; he welcomed me aboard with ultra-light spinning gear. You can learn more about Jon on his website: www.flowingrivers flyfishingexpeditions.
His boat holds three people — him, the oarsman, being one. It has braces on the bow and on the stern for anglers to be secured while fishing. And it’s nice getting to sit back down in a comfortable seat.
We put in on a private ranch where Jon had permission to launch, and he paddled us downstream. The reverie of the river was broken only by his helpful narration about the best places to cast and the water’s depth. The man knows his river.
And it’s an otherworldly river to get to know. For the threeand- a-half-hour trip, we never saw another person; didn’t see a Styrofoam cup or a discarded beer can — and never heard an outboard motor. The trees covered the river in many places, providing a canopy of shade on a day heading for three-digit temperature. As we drifted past a remarkable cypress tree with roots spreading over five feet from the trunk, Jon told us it had been aged at 350 years old. Realizing we were sojourning through an ancient environment was humbling. Civilization seemed a long way off.
As Jonathan Gray, Sr. described it, it was “Three Jons in a jon boat.” On a river far from reality.
Jon Jr. told us weekends were sometimes shared with tubers and other boaters. Weekdays weren’t.
The river was low, and the fish were not as hungry in July as they would be in the fall or spring. I fished a little, but mostly took pictures.
It was a trip to remember … and go on again.
