|From my first experience with a fly rod I have never
understood the addiction to fly-fishing. There is just nothing exciting about tying a fly,
making a perfect cast and landing a chunky fish. No sir, believe me there is nothing
exciting about that: denial is the first sign of addiction!
Birth is the first page in an endless book of knowledge called life. As humans we are sponges that absorb information. I consider myself to be one of the enlightened sponges of our society. I hold a degree, I am mechanically inclined, I am financially sound and ponder the existence of fish in all bodies of water but for the first 22 years of my life I ignored fly-fishing. I regarded fly-fishermen as "a bunch of primadonnas who chased carp with pretty colors (trout) and could not master a bait casting rig".
This "fly fisherman bashing" continued until I picked up a fly rod with the intention of mastering it the first day. Heck I had fished all my life with real gear, how hard could it be to cast 1/8 inch rope on a wimpy little rod? This was my first mistake. I did not need to practice casting in the yard. Grass is made for cutting not fishing. Second mistake. Wind is just a part of fishing, I fish in it everyday, why is a fly rod any different? Third mistake. Ive seen other people do all this before how hard could it be? All I need to do is pull the line as the rod loads and then whip it forward. Right? How hard could it be? There is nothing more humbling than being smacked by your 2/0 deer hair fly going Mach one, I hope no one saw that.
During the course of the day sheer macho aggression gave way to a basket case of nerves with a lot of bruises. Rather than ask for help or put it the rod down I continued to flail away at the water getting madder with each cast. I spewed language that would make a sailor cringe and blamed my lack of casting skills on everything known to man. I did not need someone to show me how to cast; I am a guide for goodness sake! I learned to cast a baitcasting rig; I can master the wimpy little fly rod. The madder I got the worse my casting became. By the end of the day, I was ready to sell my rods and forget about fly-fishing. Sometimes just surviving a day of fishing is a major feat.
From this checkered past came the angler of today. A confident Gloomis fly-fisherman that has boated a ton of flyfishing fish and sold bunches of flies to other anglers. Youve come a long way baby! If ever there was a sport that I had to master this was it. I could never hold my head up in public if it was known that a fly rod kicked my butt and sent me home with my tail between my legs. This is an example of a lesson learned the hard way. I would like to convey some tips and tricks that will save you some scares and some pride.
First, buy good gear.
Second, get good help.
Third, practice as much as possible.
Fourth, respect fly-fishing for what
Follow these simple words of hard-learned wisdom and it will make you a better fly fisherman. Remember it is much easier to learn right than it is to break bad habits. Everyone needs a little help from time to time, dont be to pig headed to ask for it.
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