We’ve all seen the pictures of someone standing knee-deep in a stream while fly-fishing. He looks so peaceful, out in the wild, enjoying God’s creation and reeling in huge trout. Well, it rarely starts that way!
Fly fishing is an art form. It takes practice and patience. For some, it’s almost a Zen thing. “You must be one with the elements.”
Well, for me, I also needed a credit card with a low balance and a high limit. Gone are the days of digging up some worms, fishing with a tree branch and a line thicker than a shoelace. Fish are much smarter these days. We live in the times of Hi-Tech fishing.
Millions of dollars are spent researching and understanding the habitat of fish, and then developing new products to catch these intelligent fish. Tree branch rods have been replaced with copolymer, laminated, graphite, wiz-bang rods with titanium guides, which come in various weights, lengths, and colors. Spools that cost more than my laptop, and lines, that sink, float, taper fast or slow, bow, lead and knot, that use a nail! I just want to catch a fish!!!
Now we come to the flies. He didn’t know there were so many different kinds of bugs. Some of these flies are tied to a hook so small you’d need two pairs of reading glasses to even see them, while others are about the size of a small bird. I’m told I need a wide variety because I need to “hatch match” which is code for finding the fly that looks like the bug that just bit you. Don’t worry about that red welt growing to the size of your eyeball. You are doing this to relax and have fun. Oh yeah!
I soon learned that it’s not okay to wade into the creek in shorts and tennis shoes. NOOOOOOO! You need lightweight, breathable wellies with wading boots and a fishing vest. I guess I should have checked the dress code. Ok, there’s another $350. Once again, I just want to catch some fish.
I should have been suspicious when my wife didn’t complain that I spent all this money on fly fishing. I just thought that she was supporting me and rewarding me for working all those long, hard hours at work. I think I discovered her evil plot on one of my first trips.
Now I’m ready. I have my $600 fly rod with my $400 real. My $350 boots and boots, $50 hat, $150 prescription polarized sunglasses, and $300 worth of flies and assorted tackle.
As I started to get into the river, I thought, “There better be some damn fish in here!” I carefully approached what I thought was a good spot.
After a few throws, I decided it would be best to stand on a nearby rock. It was a pretty rock. It was a beautiful green color. As soon as my foot touched that rock, I suddenly understood my college physics class. When a 300-pound body is in motion and steps on a viscous green rock, the laws of thermal dynamics will prevent my foot from stopping.
It sounds like the green fluid on the rock is a lot like spraying silicone on your car’s brake pads. I didn’t know my legs could spread out that far! I guess it helped that my other foot got stuck between two other rocks. It would have helped if my knee hadn’t hit that green rock when I fell into the water.
If these $350 boots are breathable, why didn’t they spit out all the running water inside? I must have looked like a float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Now I know what a turtle experiences, when they are placed on their backs.
Without my $50 hat and $150 prescription sunglasses, I struggled to get back on my feet. Since my boots were now full of water, I must have weighed in around the 500 pound mark. All this time, I’m thinking, “It’s okay, I’m just a little wet. The worst is over.” At least I had my fly rod and all the gear. That is until, again, I slipped and fell on the rod, breaking it like a toothpick.
At this point, the idea of catching a fish is gone from my mind. I just wanted to get out of these water filled boots and clothes. My knee was swollen and my ankle was starting to hurt.
Since I was in a fairly secluded part of the river with no one around, I decided to strip and wring out my clothes. All I could think was “how am I going to keep these wet clothes off my leather seats?” I CERTAINLY did not want to stain those beautiful seats. I just bought the car a few months ago.
Luckily it was a warm summer day. I put my clothes on the nearby bushes to dry. As I lay down to rest for a while, I must have dozed off. I was having such a wonderful dream of catching fish with my new fly rod, when I felt something poke me. When I opened my eyes, I found that a small crowd had gathered.
Looks like a family was floating down the river and reported a dead body on the beach. They said: “He must be dead because his stomach is swollen.” Well, he wasn’t dead, but he was a little sunburned. It is interesting that the parts of our body, which rarely see the sun, burn earlier, let’s say our arms. Oh yeah! He was on a rocky beach, stark naked with a swollen knee, a sore ankle and burned gonads!
I didn’t need to worry about staining my beautiful leather seats, because that cute police officer with the baton landed me in jail. My clothes were dry once my wife came down and rescued me. The police were very kind to tow my car away to keep it safe while in their care and it only cost me $500 to get it back.
I am no longer interested in learning to fly fish. Now I hire a guide, so if something breaks or I get arrested, I’ll have someone to sue!
© Ken Bear Cole All Rights Reserved
Fishing with Bear LLC