This article is about meeting my doppelganger—you know, that person who looks enough like you that the two of you are hard to distinguish from a distance. This past summer a local fly-fishing friend of mine called to tell me that he saw me on the river that morning. I insisted that it wasn’t me. We were both shocked to learn that I had a look-alike in Spokane! My second thought was, I hope he was not just some random black guy passing through town. It’s not often you have a chance to meet and befriend your twin.
A few weeks later, I was surprised to get an email from a person named Curtis. Curtis commented about the On the REAL podcast that I host and went on to confess that he is a fly angler who lives here. I replied back and we made a date to meet. We arrived at the exact same time and after settling onto a couple of bar stools our conversation turned to fly-fishing and our favorite rivers. Although I am twenty plus years his senior, add a trucker cap, polarized sun classes, and with a splash of premature grey in his beard, even I could be tricked. What’s even more unbelievable about us is our similar family histories and our passion for rivers and fly-fishing.
The conversation was comfortable and familiar. Since then, we have spent some quality time together both at his home and at mine. We have even enjoyed a day chasing trout together. I picked him up at his place on a semi-nice fall day and we headed east on Interstate 90 to a short stretch of river in North Idaho. In less than an hour we were walking the trail along the stretch of water we were about to fish. We assessed its depth and flow and stepped in. Within a short distance downstream we each landed a nice Westslope cutthroat trout.
Before heading home, we sat, just off the river’s edge and had lunch. The conversation went to our shared views on fishing areas that are not always welcoming to folks like us. We both strongly claimed to not have a death wish, but rather a deep unwavering love for public lands, rivers and the fish that reside in them. Our public lands belong to all of us. Rivers, nor the fish that reside in them, know or respect State borders or politics. Rivers flow on and fish swim as free as we once did. Trout anglers in particular have a saying: “Trout don’t live in ugly places.” We have come to add, “Unfortunately some hateful people do.”
Ironically, we had that Idaho conversation just upstream from a piece of private property along the river where the owner often flies three flags near the river’s edge: the US flag, the flag of the confederacy and the Don’t Tread on Me flag. That particular day they were only flying the Don’t Tread on Me one.
I recently sat down with Curtis at my home in the Spokane Valley and learned this about him. Curtis Morton Johnson was born and raised the youngest of three boys in rural upstate New York in the town of Chatham, population 3,000. His parents moved there from Albany, New York, in 1960 because they did not want their kids to grow up in the city. Like me, Curtis grew up country, working on area dairy farms and living the outdoor life in the Catskill mountains. I asked him, “Who introduced you to fishing?” Curtis replied, “My dad put a fishing pole in my hand at age three. After the first fish I ever caught got away, I’ve been chasing them ever since.”
After high school he did a short stint at a community college in NY State but walked away without a degree. Seven years later and after a move to the West Coast he found his way to the University of Montana in Missoula. While there he earned a degree in Cartography (the science and practice of drawing maps) and in Aquatic Biology. After graduation he decided to call Missoula home for the next twenty years. It was over his time there that he developed a serious passion for rowing river boats and fly-fishing.
During his time in Missoula, he worked for the Forest Service (FS) in their Forest Health Division for Region 1 and six years at the Fire Science Lab that specializes in wildland fire research. Curtis also worked for the Nez Perce Tribe as a watershed habitat specialist for the Lochsa River Watershed in Idaho. A personal relationship and the need for a career move brought him to Spokane.
Curtis now works for the Department of Ecology here as a watershed ecologist where he manages the entire Little Spokane River Watershed. When he is not at work you can expect to find him on a nearby river or swinging flies with a two-handed fly rod for steelhead trout on the Clearwater River in Idaho.
When I asked him for a memorable outdoor experience he said, “Catching my first fish with my dad and grandpa.” I then wondered if there was anything he would like to see change about this passion we share for rivers and outdoor spaces. Curtis replied, “I would like to see the perception change that black and brown people do not belong in outdoors spaces. I would like all folks like us to feel that they belong in what is too frequently considered “white spaces.” I also want us to feel safe when enjoying our public lands.”
There are few things more exciting than finding your doppelganger especially when you share more than an appearance. Curtis and I share a love of family, a deep appreciation for our rural roots, a love for rivers, and an obsession for chasing fish on the fly. If you happen to see one of us on a river, any river, please wave and shout, “I see you!”
Dr. Bartlett is a retired educator. He retired from Gonzaga University in 2007 and Eastern Washington University in 2020.