Greetings all. This blog is an attempt to write down anything that I find to be interesting in my life. So welcome to my ramblings page. Enjoy!!
Alright on to more important things. My name is Camille Egdorf….aka…maynard, mac & cheese, cami, and my favorite…..rip lps. I’ve spent my entire life migrating back and forth from Montana to Alaska. My folks, Kim and Dave Egdorf, own and operate a guided fishing operation on the King Salmon and Nushagak rivers in Bristol Bay, Alaska dating all the way back to 1982. My mother, an Idaho Falls bomb shell, was 21 when she decided to “go out on a limb” and take up a cook position in remote south western Alaska. It was there that her passion for cooking originated.
My dad was raised on a small farm in Minnesota, and was defiantly an outdoorsy kinda boy. When he finished with school he went into the army and ended up going to Vietnam as a medic. He’s to this day still telling stories of some of his patients he had under his knife. After the war, he learned to fly and headed North in his small super cub. He spotted herring for a couple years, then went on to fly air taxi for several airports in Bristol Bay. From the sounds of it, the air taxi business is good exposure to some of the local “drunk” folk of remote Alaska. Here is an example.
“I just lifted off the runway with a very heavy load of local village people. Everyone on the plane was drunk off their rockers, and I was sweating the chance that someone might barf in my plane. The thought of cleaning up another mess like that made me cringe in my seat. Pondering on this possibility, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I look behind me to see a woman(a very large woman) staring me right in the eye with a twisted and painful look on her face. I ask her what she wanted. “I gotta go peeeee!!” she squeals. Taken a bit aback by her rank breath and very forward methods, I tell her she must wait utnil we get to our destination. “Pilot!!!!! I gotta go pee!!!” she squeals again tears welling in her eyes. I turn to face the wind shield and bite my lip. I really don’t want her to pee herself in my plane. So I turn around and land back at point A. Now I figured this woman would just hop off the plane and go inside to use the facilities. Nope! As soon as the plane was stopped she jumps out, lifts up her poke-a-dot dress and pees right in front of the plane. Now it wouldn’t have been as bad if she was a bit more slender, but a half naked fatso, with bad breath, and buck teeth was, as you can imagine down right horrid. As everyone in the plane and out on the taramak looked in the other direction, she finishes her business and hops back into the plane. Grinning from ear to ear. “Pilot lets go,” she orders.” And off we went.”
My parents met at Tikchik Narrows Lodge. My mother was a cook and my father was a pilot. They started Western Alaska Sport Fishing in 82, were married in 84, and had me in 89.
I’m now 19, living the life of a full time college student, and still migrate back and forth from Montana to Alaska. I’m officially obsessed with fly-fishing or just fishing to be exact. I was about 3 years old when I dragged my first fish out of the water. I actually remember watching my little cruise ship bobber submerge and disappear under the ice hole. I was so amazed by the 5 inch long crappie, that I played and stared at it for hours. That was it…..I was hooked with a very big barb. In the years following that remarkable day, I continued to hamper and pester any fish that I could. When I was about 9 years old, I caught a 27 inch brown in front of the house in Montana. I was so excited that I showed everyone in the house. To my dismay, dad wasn’t there to view this amazing fish. So…..I grabbed the minnow bucket, which was about 3x4ft in size, threw it in the river, and stuffed in my prize fish. Now the fish didn’t stay in there for just a few hours……but for a few DAYS!! Finally my dad comes home, and I drag my fish up to the house to show him my trophy. He’s amazed not only at the size of the fish, but how long it stayed in the minnow bucket and had lived. To make a long story short, the brown was released and swam happily away. I’m sure it was cursing the little blond girl for couping him up in a dark box for four days. The old man still gives me a hard time for that one.
I was introduced to a fly rod at the age of 6. A client was kind enough to give me my first rod, I believe it was a Sage Graphite III 6 weight. To that man, I thank you! You gave me the best gift a little girl could ask for……the passion for fly fishing.
I continue to wave a rod today. I guide for my parents in Alaska during the summers. This past summer was my first time as a guide and although it was hard mentally and physically, I had a great time. What better way to spend the day then catching fish and drifting down a river. If I can make fly-fishing my career, it would be a dream come true.