It was Friday April 22nd when my phone buzzed me from the bow of my skiff. Normally, I'd turn the ringer off and get back to enjoying my day, but the screen showed my buddy Kristian was
calling me and it had been a few minutes since I spotted a fish. Without setting down my rod, I
took the call.
"Becca, I've got an opportunity for you. My buddy, John, is looking for a guide to fill a last minute position in Alaska. I gave him your name. I know you've been trying to figure out
what to do and I think this is it. Reach out to him if you're interested."
I immediately was not interested. Scared is probably a better word.
Yeah, I'd always wanted to go to Alaska, but guiding it was a different story. Surely this was not how my prayers were being answered. But the coincidence was intriguing - you see, John had already reached out to me a couple days prior (randomly) to see if I was interested in selling my skiff. In the process of responding to that message, I had of course looked at his profile and seen his Alaska pictures. And now this was happening. "Ok," I thought, "I'll follow up with him and at least see what this is all about."
Before I continue, let me introduce myself. I'm Rebecca. A couple years ago I signed off of a financially secure corporate life to chase my fly fishing dream. I didn't know what that really meant long term, but in the short term it involved upending my life and going on a cross-country roadtrip to fly fish the Western United States. Last year, I settled back down on the coast of Texas and, between DIY trips out in the marsh, agonized over how I could fit in to the fly fishing industry once and for all and make a living.
This is my story.
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