“Now I see why you guys call him Baby Bear,” comments my
wife after Bo and Louise’s wedding in spectacular, autumn leaves covered Victor
Idaho. We are driving over the Tetons back to our room in Jackson. “Why do you
say that?” I ask. “Because he is like a baby bear, gentle and kind, I don’t
really know him, but he seems like he will be a great husband,” she comments. I
can say the same for his new bride, Louise, I don’t really know her, but she
seems like she will make an awesome wife.
I can see she really loves him.
Bo & Louise picked a brilliant venue, and the best time
of the year to have an outdoor wedding. The fall leaves in the Jackson/Victor
area is out of control pretty. I have more or less taken Jackson off my list of
areas to fish because of the crowds. There’s a reason so many people flock to
those areas—its stuffed to the brim with lovin. But I’m not interested in
mountain crowds. However, seeing the Teton’s again knocked my right off my
feet—I don’t know if I’ve seen prettier. The Saw Tooth Range in Stanley is a
contender, Utah’s Timpanogus is nothing to scoff at, The Sierra Nevada’s will
rock your world; I could list a dozen more, but come on, the Grand Teton’s are
just perfect.
Before the wedding, we drove into the Elk Refuge, and I got
to steal a few hours on the Gros Venture River. Honest to God, I would make a
cast, then stop and take another look around. I was lucky enough to hook into
some Fine Spotted Snake River Cuts, but truly I could care less if I caught a
fish or not.
Eight years ago, Bo instantly became a beloved member of the
West High faculty--even before he was officially part of the staff--as a
student teacher for Marcie Thompson. He became a true brotha though on his
first fishing trip, a member of the Magnificent 7. In the early days of some of
us guys at West High went fishing together. We had a total of 7 guys on a trip,
and it just seemed natural to call ourselves Magnificent.
Within less than 5 minutes of driving I heard the soft hum
coming from someone snoring. “Who in the hell could already be asleep?” I
asked. “Oh my God, Bo is sleeping,” laughed Tom. His hat was pulled down over
his face, snuggled up and tucked in tightly between two grown men, Bo rested
gently and our “Baby Bear” was born. A nick name has to fit, you can’t give one
to yourself, and as time goes and you’re lucky, it feels right.
Being named baby bear goes deeper that just taking a nap,
it’s an attitude, a style, a certain swagger that embossed him with the nick
name “Baby Bear.” From all of the Magnificent, we’d like to give Baby Bear
& Louise all our love and blessings. Hopefully his rocks have dropped and
he’ll sire a cub of his own before too long—a baby baby bear.
