It’s the end of 2013 and just I wanted chime in, giving my take on the state of the sport. So, here I go. Let me first preface this with my belief that there is far too much fluff written about fly fishing and far too much hype as well. At the same time, it’s a pursuit worthy of all the passion we can throw at it. And I love it.
Fly fishing represents many things at various times and locations to a multitude of really different people. Its challenging sporting methodology and physical form display an intrinsic artistry. Yet, it cannot be separated from its brutal primal aim – the capture of fish, which until the very recent catch-and-release concept, was always followed by omnivorous consumption. And there is blood.
Speaking of the sporting pursuit as a whole, the scenes we’ve grown up with are idyllic. The words reach for wisdom. The images are washed over water-colored depictions of bucolic settings where tweedly gentlemen anglers pursue their lovely well-mannered quarry with quiet respect, rigorous rules, and grace, perhaps with a cast timed to a metronome. This is the old angler, dressed in proper drab. He casts conservatively dressed dry flies upstream, and only to rising trout.
Contrast this old image of fly fishing with more recent trends: ultra-radical Go-Pro wearing adrenaline junkies, buff-faced bright-clad dudes and chicks mysteriously hiding behind fish, post-punk-soundtracked Milleresque shorts at the IF8T film tour, Soviet helicopter adventure travel, #fishporn, nuclear-colored synthetic bugs, social media show offs and blogs.
Ok, this is a blog. Thanks for reading.
Just as all fly fishers have to reconcile beauty and blood, so too must we modern anglers balance tradition and trends. Are there excesses at each end? Yep.
For me, fly fishing isn’t church. It’s not so much a spiritual experience. It’s chasing fish. Which, conversely, is also not likely anything like snowboarding a half pipe or base jumping or wing suit flying at 200 mph through a natural arch.
The thing is, I like most of it, the progression and the tradition in fly fishing. I like the look and feel of split cane bamboo and retro-cool fiberglass rods. I guiltily like beast-hog grip ‘n’ grins. I like serene water colors of scenic sentimentality. I like loud thumping bass timed to 100-ft. double hauls, with electric guitars, strip sets and big jumps. Orvis and Simms. Tiny trout and tarpon. The quiet and the thrill of a reel heating run. These are all things that make this pursuit special and rewarding.
It’s paradoxical on the surface. But, for those of us that are fly fishing fanatics and disciples and junkies and zealots and bums, we completely understand the variable appeal of this pastime and sport. Fly fishing draws you in quickly, takes forever to master, resides deeply, and is really a much more simple concept than words allow. We kinda just need our fix, that electric pulse of the tug, traveling up the line to the rod to us. That simple feeling alone is the reward for travel, persistence, perception, and long nights at the vice (and vise). But, there is so much more.
Fly fishing today is a combo meal full of flavor. It’s tech and tradition happily married.
When it all works, when it comes together in the right amounts for you, when your mind is right, fly fishing can indeed excite, simplify, enliven senses, settle, and even subtly enrich the soul.