SwissFamilyRobinson
New member
I always take a moment at the vice this time of year to tie a rusty spinner, have a dram of bourbon, and remember local fly fishing legend Jerry “Kermit” O’houlihan. He was a good friend of mine and logged countless hours on his home stream, chest creek.
I met him fishing up near camp in the late 90’s and he had a way with the finicky rainbows in chest creek. The smell of his pipe found your nostrils if you were walking the banks of chest creek during the evening hatch. He taught many of us who frequented the creek volumes on fly fishing and came to be known as the Chest Creek Trout Wizard. He could conjure up trout from the depths like no one else.
His Bamboo was constantly bent. And if a fish came unbuttoned he’d let out a deranged mix of swear words even if it was on the 20th trout of the evening.
He always had a tobacco stained white beard that collected half the hatch in it, a flask of makers mark, and could make any trout in the creek rise it would seem. The emergency contact on the back side of his medical alert bracelet was an exotic dancer he had no relation to. He drove a VW Bus and listened to Emerson Lake and Palmer. He could play the bag pipes and did so at camp on several occasions before setting out for the evening hatch.
He was the kind of guy who noticed things stream-side that others didn’t and paid great attention to detail. He never wrote about anything and no one ever wrote about him. Outside of a small circle of friends who lived or had camps in the area, he kept very much to himself. He wasn’t a real chatty Kathy on the stream and I don’t think he ever visited an online forum.
A damn shame he will never make the fly fishing hall if fame but here is my too late bid for Jerry “Kermit” O’houlihan.
Photo taken by Walter Rajzcynewsky of Ol Kermit the trout hermit himself on the front porch of camp after the rusty spinner fall on chest. A night we all took many trout.
R.I.P Kermit
-Red
I met him fishing up near camp in the late 90’s and he had a way with the finicky rainbows in chest creek. The smell of his pipe found your nostrils if you were walking the banks of chest creek during the evening hatch. He taught many of us who frequented the creek volumes on fly fishing and came to be known as the Chest Creek Trout Wizard. He could conjure up trout from the depths like no one else.
His Bamboo was constantly bent. And if a fish came unbuttoned he’d let out a deranged mix of swear words even if it was on the 20th trout of the evening.
He always had a tobacco stained white beard that collected half the hatch in it, a flask of makers mark, and could make any trout in the creek rise it would seem. The emergency contact on the back side of his medical alert bracelet was an exotic dancer he had no relation to. He drove a VW Bus and listened to Emerson Lake and Palmer. He could play the bag pipes and did so at camp on several occasions before setting out for the evening hatch.
He was the kind of guy who noticed things stream-side that others didn’t and paid great attention to detail. He never wrote about anything and no one ever wrote about him. Outside of a small circle of friends who lived or had camps in the area, he kept very much to himself. He wasn’t a real chatty Kathy on the stream and I don’t think he ever visited an online forum.
A damn shame he will never make the fly fishing hall if fame but here is my too late bid for Jerry “Kermit” O’houlihan.
Photo taken by Walter Rajzcynewsky of Ol Kermit the trout hermit himself on the front porch of camp after the rusty spinner fall on chest. A night we all took many trout.
R.I.P Kermit
-Red
