Remembering Jon

We all lost a good friend and fly fisherman this week. Jon Howe, our “Guide Emeritus” at Tall Timber, net man for his wife Cindy on their many fishing trips, and my brother-in-law, passed after a long illness. He was a special person – universally liked and respected by everyone that met him, either personally or professionally, and so his passing is a hard one for those of us that knew him.

By the time I met him over twenty-five years ago, Jon was transitioning to become a full-time fly fishing guide, after many years as a surveyor, ski instructor, and part-time guide out of North Country Angler in the North Conway area. Upon his move north, he became our in-house fishing guide here at Tall Timber, and in a short time became a favorite of our guests. His easy going manner and love of fly fishing translated easily to his guiding clients, as they knew that they would have fun and learn something in their days on the water with him.

From his guiding days in Conway, Jon was an expert on the Saco and Androscoggin rivers, known as “The Dean of the Androscoggin” by some of his clients. While he had fished and guided on the Connecticut River on occasion, once he relocated to Pittsburg permanently he learned the waters of our area thoroughly with Cindy’s help. Quickly he became an expert on the various stretches of the Connecticut, whether wading or drifting, earning our nickname for him: “Old Man River”, “O.M.R.” for short. His patience (a trait that is very important for guides) with his clients was legendary, and I can personally attest to that from the many drifts I did with him.

Jon was also an incredible fly caster. He was a FFF certified fly casting instructor, and you could tell when watching him on the water. I noticed this particularly during the hex hatch on Back Lake, where throwing a lot of line accurately is sometimes necessary to put a fly in front of a cruising fish. Jon did it effortlessly, and I caught myself missing fish as I sat spellbound by Jon’s technique. On top of all of this, he was also the last “Back Lake Fly Casting Champion” at the final Guides Show that was held on Back Lake a couple of decades ago. He really enjoyed that title, or perhaps it was showing off his skills for a large audience?

Jon was a lot of fun when not on the water too – he was my companion at the Fly Fishing Shows that we did over the years. At the Tall Timber booth, he loved to talk fishing with everyone, and it seemed like every angler or guide in New England knew him when we would go to those shows. He made an impact on a lot of folks, which is a great testament to him, I think. We also enjoyed having “after show libations” at the hotel bar with other guides and show goers and that was always a lot of fun, occasionally too much fun. There were a few rough mornings after some of those nights …

I was fortunate to be invited along on a trip to Montana with Jon and Cindy about 22 years ago. While they were fly fishing the Missouri and surrounding rivers all week, I hunted pheasants with Jon’s brother-in-law Jim on some private ranches that he had access to. As you would expect, it was an incredible trip as we had some beautiful days hunting the Montana countryside with my GSP Freya. There was plenty of action, and for an eastern grouse hunter, where every bird we see (or only hear) can be hard earned, it was nothing short of amazing to see so many wild birds.

This started something of a love affair with Montana, and after hearing so many stories from Jon and Cindy about their fishing that trip, I resolved to go back to fish. I returned several times with them, as well as friends and my wife on the last trip. Of course, Jon served as our “guide” on all of these trips, with all of his previous experience in Montana, and while the incessant questions must’ve seemed unending for him, he seemed to delight in watching others fall under Montana’s spell.

Going fishing with Jon could be a humbling experience. Not only did he seem to know where the fish were and what they were feeding on, but he had the casting ability to get his fly in the right spot as well. One trick he played on me a couple of times was to let me go to a preferred run while he fished a run of “lesser quality” upstream of me, within eyesight. As I would struggle in the better looking water, he would catch fish, repeatedly, in what appeared to be lesser water. After an hour or so, he would ask if I wanted to switch to his area, where he had so much success. I took the bait every time, and soon he would be catching fish after fish where I had been and I would be striking out where he had been slamming fish. That happened a few times …

Jon was a friend and mentor to several younger guides as well, encouraging them in their capabilities to undertake guiding as a profession. Much like those cartoons where a character has an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, for guides, “confidence” and “doubt” are our angels and demons, especially when making the decision to guide in the first place. It was the same for me when I was thinking about becoming an upland bird hunting guide fifteen years ago, and Jon was one of the people that thought I could do it. That meant something when I made the decision to follow through.

Our annual “Guides Fishing Day” excursions were legendary. Three boats, going down some section of the Connecticut River, in search of trout or some other species. For all of the fishing guides, it was a much needed day to take a break and blow off steam during a long season of guiding. For me, it was the chance to be on the river again with the best anglers in the north country and have a good time with a great group of guys. We were in pursuit of northern pike a few times, and Jon hauled in the largest esox on one of those trips – it was an absolute monster.

Trout and salmon were still Jon’s favorite prey however, and he and Cindy pursued them all over the U.S. – many rivers in New England, Montana, the San Juan (New Mexico), Henry’s Fork (Idaho), Alaska, the White (Arkansas), etc. and I’m sure there are many that I’m forgetting. Cindy and Jon also took trips to Argentina for sea run browns and to Belize for bonefish – truly trips of a lifetime. They were each other’s partners in life and fishing, and it was beautiful to watch two kindred spirits enjoy their lives together.

These posts are difficult to write but necessary to get out there. They help me relive some of the times we had and most importantly the person. I’m not big on imagining what comes next for any of us, but I know that we’ll all miss Jon.