Marty doesn’t like spicy food or Coke and that’s about the only bad thing I can say about him. He grew up in Montana and undoubtedly ate more plain Lay’s potato chips than Doritos. His first flyrod was bought at a yard sale in Kalispell and never really had a proper fly line. A big day for him was catching a few fish and terrorizing the neighbors chickens trying to pluck feathers out to tie the next hot fly. Like most of our guides, he started at the bottom of the totem pole working in the flyshop, where we basically had to shackle and chain him to the desk. Since then he has dated the local bartender, lived in my camper, taught me a few things about nymphing and discovered Pepperoni Pizza. Marty may look like he is twelve years old but fishes these rivers like he personally guided Lewis and Clark up the Missouri.

• Nickname:  The man with no nickname.
• Favorite Fish: Test
• Favorite River: Test
• Special Skill: Test