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The Fly Fishing Enthusiast's Online Magazine
'The Fraternity of Fly Fishers'
Feb 3, 2016

"Most people are on the world, not in it. They have no conscious sympathy or relationship to anything about them."
John Muir - 1938

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"Male Wood Duck" - Image by Neil Travis


I stood on the bank and watched as he cast in the run, absorbed by the act of fishing as his upstream leg rebelled against the current that was determined not to allow him to reach any further in his waders. He held the rod high and level in an effort to guide his line through the seam he was targeting, when the telltale jerk of his left arm brought the rod back into a tight bow. The dance between rod and trout began as he slowly worked his way backwards out of the current until he was once again in calmer waters and could land the fish.


My wife had been asked to help with a project so I was free for the day. I headed to a nearby pond with a bamboo rod and the 1 weight graphite. I took two fly boxes and two hook boxes of flies with me. There were new patterns that I wanted to try and it is easier to do when tried and true patterns are not with you. We had received some rain and the water levels were up, but the water was clear.


A little break here; ten books are not enough to discuss to Atlantic Salmon Flies, but I have acquired and read through these within a year. I consider that's quite a lot for one subject. Of course I invested my time to read and tie and then money to purchase materials.

From the Archives, Nov 8 1999

We saw something really neat recently. JC and I were at the Guide's Fly Shop and on the wall, toward the back, was a shadow box. Fly tiers and lovers of flies often frame some favorite fly in a shadow box for their den, but this one was different.


Sounds like the title of a great story. Wish that it was so, but it is just about an old cane rod I bought a few days ago. I still am not quite sure why I bought it. Something just told me that, "Hey, you ought to have that rod. It's kind of like one you used to have years and years ago." So I contacted the fellow on our bulletin board and for a hundred bucks it's mine now. He only had it a few days having bought it from a traveling 'flea market' chap down in Texas. Where this rod has been before that is anyone's guess. But, I have it now. And I like it.


When was the last time that you could actually say that you just went fishing for fun? As a consummate observer of people's behavior I have noticed that I see more and more people that appear to find fishing especially fly fishing, anything but fun. A typical scene at an access site is a bunch of determined people that appear to be setting out on a mission that is a matter of life and death. Once the boat is in the water the race is on to see which angler can catch the first fish, the most fish and the biggest fish. The casting is methodical, machine like with a stoic determination without any apparent concept of what they are doing or why they are doing it. Is this the future of fly fishing?


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