Flyfishing competitions are a curious business. Everyone, it seems, has an opinion on them, but few people have actually participated in one. Author David Zoby and his sidekick, “The Rodfather” step up to the challenge and make it to Cody, WY, for a one-fly spectacle. They encounter an unlikely series of characters, manage to find plenty of trouble and even come home with a huge surprise. 

As luck would have it, we are among the final boats to leave the ramp. This means our chances are even grimmer. The smoky atmosphere is causing me to cough. My eyes water. Jewels selects a fly for the Rodfather. I’m blown away that Bill agrees with the selection so easily. He even sits happily by while the guide ties it on. It’s a small, drab streamer which I am not at liberty to describe or name. I tie on a black sculpin with a cone head. It’s made of bunny fur and glitter. I once caught trout here on a similar fly, so I refuse the fly offered by the guide. I go it alone, which is courageous and foolish. Jewels puts me in the prow of the boat and tells me to cast like mad. He says my fly will aggravate the trout, and when they see Bill’s smaller fly, they’ll strike it. He says it’s important for us to hit every hole, to keep our flies in the water at all costs.

“You’re the fluffer,” he says to me. “Now get fluffing.”…

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