What fly fishing means to me

I'm not sure as to where to even post this, but it is important to me that I share my experience. I believe it means something vastly different to everyone who enjoys wetting their line. For me though it has been a long journey to find a feeling of peace that is found in fly fishing. Growing up there were ample opportunities for me to learn to fly fish as a small creek ran along the end of my families pasture, and my grandpa was a very skilled fly fisherman and tier. I remember watching him come over and head to the stream with his pole and come back with dinner, but I was to engrossed in my own endevours to ever sit down and learn from him.

That choice and decision is one I grew to dispise and feel guilty about. I knew him and loved him so much, but was for some reason unable to connect with him like some of my cousins did. While I was still very young he left this world and returned to the Almighty Creator. I regreted not spending the time with him and having the bond that I felt my other cousins had. I never got to say good bye to him before he left.

As many years had passed and I grew from a child and young man to an adult my perspective began to change as did the things I did for enjoyment, partly due because of time. I am glad it did however and that my new father in law bought me my first fly rod in hopes that we would have something to connect with and bond as well. From then on a fascination and love of fly fishing has been fueled with such passion that it continues to grow.

With time passing by and my learning experiences beconming more vast in numbers I found a connection I wasn't prepared for. In what begin as a way to connect with my father in law now took on a differant meaning. I was finding myself connecting with nature and my surroundings in a way I had never before known, but most importantly for me my grandpa even after his passing away. I found a connection with him through fly fishing which he loved so dearly, and a sense of peace that had left me so many years before.

Every time I step out next to the water getting ready to present my fly his presence is felt, and I feel his hand on my shoulder with a smile on his face telling me "Good job son." This is what it has meant and continues to mean to me. I will forever now be able to have the connection to one of the greatest men I ever knew that I thought was once gone.

Brandon

p.s. Sorry if this is the wrong place, or out of line.

Brandon,

Great story and thanks for sharing. I wonder though, what ever happened to his rod and equipment? It would have been awesome to have it.

Most of his eqipment was given to my other cousins as I didn't show the intrest in fly fishing like they did at the time. My mom did have one of his rods she gave me a few weeks back and I am going to refurbish it. My purpose is to let his legacy live and grow with me as I continue to pass it along with my children, and someday grand kids.Brandon

Awesome. Well written Brandon, I admit I had to fight off an emotional tear.

Brandon, Thank You for writing this. Treasure these memories always. It reminded me of my Grandfather who taught me everything he knew about fishing when I was just a kid. Although he was not into flyfishing, he was with me when I caught my first trout (indeed, my first fish, also - a brown bullhead catfish). He passed away in 1978 from cancer, but I think of him very often, even have a photo of him on my flytying desk. I never fail to think of him when I am fishing, and I can't help but get the feeling that he would be very proud of me, since I love fishing as much as he did. I have a few remnants of his tackle (lures, etc.) which I keep in a special place in my tackle room.

Addendum: I have twin boys (now 20 years old), and neither of them likes fishing at all (amazing, since my wife enjoys it also). I sincerely hope that I get the chance to teach my grandchildren, as my grandfather did for me. What an extreme joy that would be for me, a true legacy.

Brandon my man that post could never be out of place nor out of line. Never to late to learn from our grandparents even though they are passed on.

Grandma and Grandpa I miss you dearly but even today you make me smile.

Brandon,
Your post is in no way out of line. I have a similar story but it involves my Uncle Bill. Uncle Bill was the epitomy of a western Pennsylvania outdoorsman. A miner by trade but a hunter and fisherman in his spare time. Every summer my family would drive the 4 hours or so from Cleveland to Rural Valley, just east of Kittanning to visit grandma and all the aunts and uncles and cousins for a week. Every year my uncle would offer for my brothers and I to stay for as long as we wanted. Unfortunately I was too much of city woosie to take Uncle Bill up on that offer. As I have gotten more involved in the outdoors the last 12 years or so, it has made me realize what an opportunity I wasted. I could have learned so much as a kid that I didn't discover until I had children of my own and got involved in scouting. My father isn't an outdoorsy guy so we didn't camp or fish growing up. My uncle was such a great guy all around. I miss him still and regret I didn't take that chance to stay. My most treasured rod and reel is an unknown spin/fly combo rod and automatic reel that my aunt gave me a few years ago. The reel sits on my tying table. I always think of Uncle Bill when I see it and anytime I am in the woods, or at a pond or in a stream.
Thanks for sharing,
Mike

It is really cool to see how others have very similar experiences as me. In some weird and strange way I feel as though the beautiful sport of fly fishing helps us to share a common bond not found in most other sports. Groing up I played every sport imaginable, but never found the same connection I have now. The difference to me is the bond in those sports is of a team bond bound by the team, as the bond of Fly Fishing is much deaper and goes from one fly fisherman to the other without limitations. I am truly grateful to be associated with such a great association of people.

Brandon