Losing the man that taught me to fish

Haven’t been doing too much fishing lately. Waters haven’t been in the greatest shape and work continues on the Teton Fly Fishing cabin. I’m happy to report that things are coming together nicely and I’m hoping to finish up in the next week or two. I snuck down to the water yesterday to wet a line. The Wind is running high and dirty so I had low expectations. Fortunately a feisty whitefish took my fly and put up a fight making the outing a success.

I’m sad to report that my Grandfather, Don Goldstrom, passed away a few weeks back. My grandad and I were really close and he’s the reason my life revolves around fly fishing. As many of you know I was fortunate enough to start fly fishing when I was little under his tutelage, joining him on many of the Wyoming waters I fish today. He set a fine example for me, encouraging me to pursue my passions and I think he was pretty proud to know his grandson was actually making a living in Jackson guiding and making art. The last time we fished together, I floated him, Jamie and Lulu down the Salt river, and despite being 88 he caught a ton of fish on dry flies. I was hoping to see him out here again this summer for another day on the water and cocktails afterword, but he decided it was time to move on. Fortunately I have a lot of great memories with him, both fishing and otherwise and I know that anytime I step into a trout stream or tie a fly, I’ll think of him. You can read his obit here

Grandad's funeral

He left some big boots to fill.