Confidence...

I have developed a bad habit over the years. Against the advice of many a gifted angler, I always rig up at my car. Often before I have even seen the water, I have flies, tippet and leader on my rod. It usually works out okay for me as I have mellowed into a pretty relaxed angler the last few years. Today however, I was torn between tightlining, running a dry dropper rig and fishing under an indicator. I decided to wait until I got to the water to decide today. As I made my way to the water, I went through some brushy trails. When I got to the water, I realized the tip of my rod was missing. I backtracked through the brush and found the tip section on the ground. I had narrowly avoided stepping on it and breathed a sigh of relief when I sat on a log by the river and put my rod together again. As I sat there and decided how I was going to fish that day, the fish bgan rising. First one, and then another and another. I hadn't even considered dry fly fishing to be an option for the day but here I was, sitting and watching a beautiful hatch go off right in front of me. I tied on a dry fly and stepped in the water, grateful that I decided to wait and that I had lost the tip of my rod. These happenings had brought me to this section of the river at just this moment. The perfect moment with the right fly on the end of my leader. 

I haven't been to a section of my favorite river in months. Life has been busy and when I have been able to get out and fish, I have gone to different sections of my favorite waterway and have avoided the more crowded trailhead section. Well today, I took advantage of the time change and headed out in the morning to this section. I have fished this section a hundred times in the last 6 years. I know the trails and water like the back of my hand. But, when I went today, I could see that much of the river had changed. The trail started of like it normally does but then there were fallen trees and new trails recently cut by by hikers and anglers. I found myself in familiar yet unfamiliar territory. A routine experience became a new adventure. I found myself making twists and turns and coming into familiar waters. It turned out to be an unexpected adventure of a day. I am eager to go back and make the new and unfamiliar as familiar as the back of my hand!

When I started fishing 6 years ago, I had sent a FaceBook message to the fly fishing club to see if anyone could take me fishing. My first fishing buddy, Jerry answered that message and we have fished together since. I have met so many people fly fishing and developed all kinds of relationships with the people I fish with. I have had amazing friendships develop and flourish. I have cared deeply for people but for some, our relationships ended. 

The most amazing relationships I have developed through fly fishing are those that are my family. My nephews and niece love fly fishing. My son is developing an interest and going with me more and more often. My brother and I go fishing together in my favorite places. 

I also have fly fishing friends that have become my family. The times we have spent together on the water have connected us on a level that can be hard to find. I value my friends. I have friendships that extend back to elementary school, high school and college. I have friends from jobs throughout my life. I know how to be a friend and value those who are friends back. My fly fishing friends have just added to this amazing source of joy in my life. Fly fishing has brought me so much and I will be forever grateful to it.

When I go fishing, I don't tend to fish with anyone who is into taking pictures. I also enjoy fishing alone and always end up with pictures of the fish in my net or in my hand. I have very few pictures of me though. My arms just don't seem long enough for self indulgent selfies. Every now and again, I ask my fishing buddies to snap a picture of a special fish or an amazing place. I get the picture to commemorate the moment, but the picture isn't always what I envisioned. 

On my last fishing trip, my son went with me. He only fished one day and the rest of the days he explored and took pictures with my phone. When I crawled into bed each night and looked at my phone, I found really good pictures he had taken. He took pictures of waterfalls, leaves and scenery. He also took pictures of me! I found candid shots of me fishing, walking and wading. Some were funny and some were really special. Each night I would scroll through the pictures on my phone, laughing and smiling at my son's documentation of our day. We have been home for a week and a half now and I find myself going through my phone almost every night, looking at the pictures and reliving the days we spent exploring and fishing. It is like I have my own personal photographer, taking pictures that I only imagined in my mind. Maybe it is okay if my son doesn't take to fishing with a passion like my own. Maybe he can find his own passions and interests alongside me as we adventure about- together. I can't wait to see those pictures!

A few weeks before I left for a trip to fish up north, my son Rocky told me that he wanted to go with me. He has always hated fly fishing. I think it is something that takes me away from him and he resents that about my fishing. I tried taking him when I first was learning but I rarely caught fish and this proved to be pretty boring for him. I have tried many things to get him involved on my outings, even if he wasn't fishing. I bought him underwater cameras, metal detectors and fishing magnets. Nothing really held his attention for more than one outing and I ended up going fishing without him.

While it is not a bad thing to have some alone time in the outdoors, I have always dreamed of going fishing with my son and having him have fun and catch some fish. A part of me felt it might never happen. Honestly, when he mentioned to me that he wanted to go on the trip, I wondered if it was a recipe for disaster. Part of me envisioned dealing with complaining and fussing for the entire trip. I can't afford many trips so I always want to make them count. After a few conversations with my son, I decided the best way to make this trip count would be to enjoy it with him.

We set off and stopped at all the great restaurants on the way up to McCloud. We spent the first day exploring a small stream. He didn't fish and I didn't push him to do it. He happily jumped from rock to rock, scaring the fish for me as we moved upstream. We had an amazing dinner, took goofy pictures and had a great day. 

The next morning, we met our amazing guide, Chuck and drove to the Klamath River. Chuck walked Rocky through some fishing skills and we set off. I was instructed to keep my hands to myself and keep my mouth shut. Chuck assured me that he had it under control- and he did.

Chuck worked the boat through a run and an eddy until my son got his presentation skills established, found his rhythm and developed some confidence. Rocky hooked a small fish and landed it. We all laughed and high fived. Chuck set the boat to fishing again. Rocky hooked a nice fish and started fighting it. Chuck talked him through the process and made an amazing net of the fish when it got tangled in some weeds. The joy on my son's face was amazing! He was so happy and proud. He looked at the fish he caught with an adoration usually reserved for first loves and amazing desserts. It was a moment I never thought would happen- but it did. We fished the entire day. My son fished for three hours and then was content watching. At the end of the day, as we ate pizza and ice cream in our hotel room, he told me he had fun and wanted to do it again. I called and made reservations the next morning for another trip. I can't wait to go fishing with my son again! 

I excitedly scheduled a trip with one of my favorite guides several months ago. My trips are determined by my work schedule- I take trips when I get a break from teaching. I have traditionally hired this guide to fish the McCloud in October. I think the McCloud is one of the most beautiful rivers I have ever seen. I have fished it several times and never had the exact same experience. This year, the river gods must have decided I should shake things up because the McCloud was too muddy to fish. My guide, Chuck said he would come up with something else and, knowing how awesome he is, he did just that.

Chuck decided that we should fish the Klamath. He said it was a little early for steelhead but that we would get something and have a great time. The weather was picture perfect and the fishing started off strong. Right after lunch, we drifted a run and my indicator dipped well under the surface of the water. I set and applied pressure. Nothing happened. We started to wonder if I was on the bottom when the "bottom" started to fight. I could tell the fish on the end of the line was large. When it jumped, I found out just how large- it was the largest fish I had ever hooked. It was dark in color and really angry. The fight went on. The fish would give a little and then take a lot. After a bit, I was able to get him close to the boat. My hand turned the reel handle as fast as I could and let him take line when he wanted. I was completely focused on keeping the line tight- but not too tight! 

As the fish got close to the boat, my guide Chuck scooped him into the net. We hooped and hollered, high fived and hugged. We snapped a quick picture and released the giant beauty. I had caught a king salmon on the Klamath River. He was a beautiful, healthy fish with a kype jaw. Chuck explained to me that the salmon run had been dismal for many years on this section of the river. He shared details that made this catch and release even more special than it was at face value. I shared with him that I had never caught a salmon before. I shared with him that this meant so much to me. Chuck smiled and told me he understood. After 20 years of guiding anglers in this beautiful place, it was still special to him too. That is when you know you have caught a special fish with the help of a special guide. I just got home and am going to call and book my next trip with Chuck. I can't wait to see what amazing adventure we find next fall!

I have written about my favorite place in the world many times on this forum. I worry that you may be tired of hearing about it. I fear that one day my wonder of it will fade and I will have nothing left to write about it. I worry that I will sing it's accolades so loudly, that some of you might hold me down and torture me until I tell you where it is. Just so you know- I will never tell.

This is the place I first learned to fish and this is the place I go when I need to feel safe and catch fish. I have only seen one other person fish at this spot in six years of regular visits. Everyone who fished here turns left to go downstream and I turn right. I like that about those people because they leave this amazing hole filled with fish to me. 

Today started slow. I normally warm up my cast by fishing a section of the water that has always held smaller, but hungry, fish. I usually have at least 10 fish to hand before I even make my way to the deeper hole and run. But, the last few times I have fished here, this section has proven barren. I was getting a little worried about the river and the health of the fish when I didn't even get a nibble.

Nevertheless, I moved upstream to my spot and began fishing. A few casts in, I got a bump. Another cast and I landed my first fish. In the first hour, I landed a dozen beautiful, thick and healthy trout- all over 10 inches. I took a moment and sat on a rock in the water. I watched butterflies fight over thistle flowers. I watch the water weave along. I watched birds feed on insects emerging out of the water. I took deep breaths and my lungs seemed to fill with calmness. This is why I fish. This feeling of freshness and calmness serves me well through the week- all I need to do is visit a water like this spot to recharge. 

I stood up, told myself one more fish, and began fishing. I didn't fish hard. I really didn't want it to be over too quickly but I also knew I had a to do list that needed attention. About 5 casts later, the last fish of the day met my net. I watched him disappear into the water and made my way out of the water to my car. It was the perfect way to spend a morning and I am forever grateful to the river for making it so...

Golden trout consist of a trout species that I not only had not caught, but I barely believed really existed. They have achieved unicorn status in my mind. Their colors were so bold and unnatural that they didn't seem real at all. In spite of my doubts, I signed up for a trip that essentially almost guaranteed catching these elusive unicorns. 

Golden trout are one of the few native species of trout found in California and are often found at elevations over 7000 feet above sea level. I don't think I have ever fished at that elevation or higher. Once we arrived at the campground at the 10,000 foot elevation, I had the choice of fishing the lake or the creek. I had seen a few rises when we rode by the lake so I thought I would try that. I put my 5 weight together and ventured to the shore of the lake. I cast to rises and had a couple of good sized fish come up and take a good long look at my fly but didn't have any desire to take a bite. After a few of these heart pounding moments, the rises subsided and I ended up sitting on the edge of the lake, taking it all in. When I felt it was time, I walked to the outlet of the lake and began following the creek. 

As I made my way through the pungent sage brush, I casually dangled my fly upstream of me in a small pool. Within a second or two, a fish nose popped up and slurped it in. I raised my rod and grabbed my net, catching my first fish on Alger's Creek. I peeked into the net and saw my old friend, the rainbow trout. Here I was, on a special trip to catch Golden Trout at the right elevation, at the right waterway and the first fish I catch is clearly not what I came here to catch! Fishing sure can be funny sometimes. We work so hard to figure out how to catch fish and yet fishing so often is full of these unexpected moments. I laughed at the catch and myself. Then I released the rainbow and moved to the next little run. I dropped my fly into the creek and after a few passes a fish rose to take it and I set the hook again. This time the flash of yellow and the red line on the belly let me know that I had found a unicorn. I netted the golden, removed the hook and snapped a quick picture. As I let the fish go, I felt that this was going to be a really good couple of days fishing. 

The weekend turned out to be stellar. I easily landed 30 to 40 fish each day. I became familiar with the colors and markings of the golden trout. The younger ones with their parr marks. The older ones with the smooth golden sides. I caught small fish and my largest fish at about 11 inches. It was an amazing weekend spent with some beautiful golden, scaled unicorns.

I went on an epic summer trip this year. It was a horse pack trip to fish for golden trout at Lake Alger's and Alger's Creek. When we rode up the trail to the 10,000 foot elevation, the only thing that I could think about was riding back down the steep, narrow, winding , granite steps and switchbacks. The trip up had been a little scary and breathtaking. The trip down was feeling downright scary. 

I tried to just relax and fish. The fishing was amazing. I had never caught golden trout and the are downright surreal. The color and beauty of their body is so bright that it looks fake. The creek was full of fish and everyday I caught more fish than I can count. All of the fish were caught on dry flies and the takes were fantastic. The fish varied in size and the days of fishing and afternoon naps helped me pass the days until the ride home.

Our departure day arrived and my nerves grabbed ahold of me firmly. I made several trips to the privy which was no small trip up and down a hill. I fished a few last fish. I talked with my trip-mates and tried to distract myself from the upcoming journey down the mountain. The wranglers and the horses arrived to begin our journey. They asked if anyone was nervous about the ride and everyone in our group unanimously said my name. The wrangler in charge laughed and called me over to my horse. As he helped me on the horse, he looked me in the eye and said, "I got you." The steadiness of his gaze, calmness of his voice and the words he said instantaneously calmed me. Just then, thunder rolled across the sky. Tears welled in my eyes and the wrangler told me not to worry one more time as he mounted his horse and we set of on the day's journey.

The thunder continued to roll across the sky and the raindrops began softly. As the rain intensified, we journeyed across narrow trails with 1000 foot drop offs. The rain intensified into a torrent and the horses stepped through the trail that now looked like the creek I had fished. Lightening joined the thunder. First there was a 5 or 6 separation between the flashes of light and the sound of the thunder. The time between them got shorter and shorter until the sight and sound were instantaneously joined above our heads, My grip on the saddle horn was s tight it was painful to my hands. The wrangler turned around and said to me one more time, "I got you." Again I believed him.

The lightening and thunder began to move away as the hail rained down, leaving chunks of ice in my rock-steady horse's mane. The hail continued  until we reached our halfway point. We got off the amazing horses and tried to remember how to walk for a few minutes. The wranglers got us back on the horses for the steepest part of the journey. The next section of trail was called "Angel Flight" and consisted of a series of steep granite and concrete stairs set against another seemingly unending drop off. As I was helped onto the horse again, the wrangler asked me how I was doing. I replied that I felt surprisingly okay. He said that the next section could be stressful and to just keep doing what I had been doing and then he told me one more time- "I got you."

We set off. I looked at his horse's hindquarters and tried to quell my stomach and fight the dizziness that hit me when my line of sight wandered down the drop off. We began the descent down Angel's Flight. Step by step we made it down. The horses were careful and the journey was completed step-by-step. The rain started in as we cleared the last concrete step. It began to pour making hearing difficult but I was able to make out the wrangler telling me "See, I told you that I had you. We are almost there and the worst is over."

I breathed a sigh of relief and sent a prayer of gratitude for the journey coming safely to an end.

We arrived at the stable and I hugged and thanked the cowboy that guided me down the mountain. I know he had done this for many people over the years and I am sure a bunch of people that are braver than I. I hope he knows how much comfort those three little words gave me. Those three little words made me brave enough to hear his calmness and follow his lead all the way down the mountain. Somehow, someway he knew just what to say- You could almost say that he really got me and that got me through the journey that day.

This day and age, you can find just about anything on the internet. You can watch videos and read articles about casting, fishing and tying. Some people have suggested that the internet will replace fly fishing clubs and organizations because they just won't be needed anymore. I really truly disagree with this prediction and I hope I am not wrong. Our club provides so much more than information. It provides connection- human connection.

Sure, you can learn to do lots of things alone at home staring into your computer. But you are running solo. While the lone wolf is a romantic figure in fiction stories, in real life, nothing really replaces a focused human interaction and fly fishing can be a powerful focus. Passing on the skills and experiences of fly fishing is almost tribal in nature. And, if done in an organized and focused manner, it is a powerful tool for the art of fly fishing and the fly fishing community.

For example, in this picture you see a large group of people at a casting pond. This is an all volunteer group of casting instructors gathered at golden gate casting ponds. They have gathered together to lead large classes for anyone interested in learning to fly cast. Show up and they will teach you on their own time. They could be out fishing. They could be practicing their own skills. But they are not doing those things. They are here, all day long, sharing their skills in fly casting and teaching. 

I have been fortunate in my life to be involved in different organizations- many of which had a service focus. I had no idea when I started fly fishing the level of social dialogue and service orientation that is a part of the culture of fly fishing. In fact, I had assumed the exact opposite. I had in my head the idea of the older angler- probably wealthy and caucasian- with a bit of an attitude of judgement and condescension. I couldn't have been more wrong. Fly fishing is filled with people like those in this picture- smart, skilled, kind, giving and dedicated. Boy am I glad I was wrong. Fly fishing is fun, cool and a great place to meet and enjoy this amazing art on every level!

When I began fly fishing, I was lucky enough to go out on the Delta with Captain Jerry every month for two years. I had no idea how lucky I was. Jerry would tell me to pick a day and I would show up with lunch and gas money and we would fish for hours. We would hit stripers, largemouth and small mouth bass. We would fish subsurface and topwater. We fished rain and shine- sun and wind. Twenty, thirty, forty fish a day would keep me coming back while I was cutting my teeth on river fishing with slow success. 

In a lot of ways, my personality is more suited for bass fishing. Bass are aggressive. I can cast loudly and aggressively to get their attention. The topwater blow ups are very different from the trout fishing I also love. Trout require stealth and delicacy- two words that are not used to describe me very often! I love bass fishing and was a little broken hearted when Captain Jerry gave up his guide license and sold his boat. I miss my time with my friend and I miss fishing for these crazy fun fish.

Now when I want to fish for bass I call my guide friend Bryce Tedford. Bryce is an amazing guide and as often as I can, I hire him to experience those fun days fishing for bass. I did this just last Friday with my friend Sara. We went out with Bryce and caught large mouth and small mouth- all topwater. We even caught a pike minnow topwater. The blow ups were exhilarating and we were all giddy with the fun of the day. We lost count of fish after 30 each and laughed and fished our way through the day. As the day was winding down and we started talking about lunch, I had an epic topwater blow up. The sizeable smallmouth attacked the popper but I missed the set. I immediately cast the popper right near him, mimicking a bait fish jumping up and back down- scurrying for its life. The smallmouth pounced on the popper and we hooked and landed a 3 pound smallmouth- easily the smallmouth of the day. 

Bass are amazingly aggressive predatory fish. I really like fishing for them in my own aggressive manner. It is one of the ways to fly fish that I don't feel like I am fighting my natural tendencies. And this last fish of the day just reinforced my love for bass with his bang- and then return to devour the fly. Can't wait for my next chance to chase some bass!

When I was a teenager, my Dad would tell me to hang out with people I liked and respected. He said that we reflect those we spend time with. He said that if I hung out with "losers", I would likely act like a loser. If I hung out with focused and successful people, I would likely be focused and successful. My Dad is kind of a genius. I should probably hang out with him more...

This memory came to my mind the other day when I hung out with my friends Russ and Sara. Russ and Sara are my favorite power fly fishing couple. They are both smart, funny, skilled, kind and passionate about all things fly fishing. We spent a morning at a park, practicing different casting skills and challenges. I had a blast. I laughed. I worked through frustration. My skill improvement was palpable. I walked away knowing what I needed to work on next and was able to cross off several skills that were on my "to learn" list. It was a really fun day. 

As I drove home, I thought about my Dad's advice and I knew that I was hanging out with some great influences. While I may never be as smart, funny, amazing casters as Sara and Russ are, I know I am a better person and angler by spending time with such wonderful people on a variety of levels. Here's hoping that in your angling journey, you find people like Russ and Sara to hang out with, cast with, and fish with.  While fly fishing is a blast in and of itself, adding a few friends with amazing character just adds to the enjoyment. Ask my Dad if you don't believe me- He was spot on about this and so many other things in life!

I have been experiencing a crisis of confidence since my recent fishing slump began. I had a few bad days fishing so I began to question aspects of my fishing skills. As a few bad days strung together, I began to question everything about my fishing. Then things that began as efforts to try different tactics turned into developing bad habits and fishing with a haphazard scatteredness. When my dear friend and I talked about this happening, he immediately knew what to do to help me out. He took me fishing.

I am super lucky to have people in my life who are amazing friends and even better fishermen. My dear friend took me out to the amazing Lower Sacramento River and put me on fish. He put me in the right spots with the right rig and coached me back to my former fishing form. I started the day by missing sets then began hooking fish. Then I lost fish I had hooked by struggling to properly fight them. Then I finally began landing fish. Concentration and frustration began to be replaced by laughter and relaxed smiles. The day ended with numerous fish to hand and a renewed confidence in my fishing. Nothing helps build confidence more than time on the water with an amazing angler who understands and cares enough to provide support and guidance. That is the magic of angling friends- they understand the benefits and challenges of the art of fly fishing and they are amazing and kind people. Since we had a bucket list outing planned for the next day, this preparation provided the perfect base to go into the next day of technical and challenging fishing well prepared for a successful experience. It reminded me of the old alliteration, "Prior and proper preparation provides for perfect performances." Now all we have to do is see how tomorrow goes. It is good to have friends!

I bought a new net. I bought a new net quite a while ago. I have gone through a bunch of nets. I struggle because I am short. A regular sized net hangs pretty far down my back and seems to catch on everything as I move through riverbank foliage. My net never seems handy when I catch a fish. I kid you not, I probably have about 10 nets in my closet that I have tried. They are all fine on some level but they all fall short for me on another level. Everytime I buy a new net, I always take note of the first fish I land with it. It has somehow become a bit of a superstition for me- that first fish in a new net. I kind of hold my breath until it happens. 

Fast forward to my latest net purchase. It is a collapsible net and holds in a little pouch on my belt. I bought it quite some time ago. It had yet to hold a fish until yesterday. I had a good fishing day yesterday. The week before, I had hooked two or three fish and landed one but I had brought an old net. Today I brought my new net. I hooked about ten- but broke off the first nine. What was going on? At first I thought it was my poor knot tying skills. Then my rig broke off above my spilt shot. What? Everything was gone. Then I broke off at the fly again. Then at both flies. Then again above the split shot. I was not fighting the fish hard but things were completely coming apart. Then, in the most logical mental step my mind could muster, I immediately attributed it to my still new net. I tied my knots more carefully. I fought each fish with care. Each opportunity to get a fish in the net was treated with the utmost attention. Finally, as I was beginning to think about calling it a day and grabbing some food (and a drink), I hooked a mellow fish. He wasn't small but he put up little fight. Here was my chance! I gently brought him toward me. He took off and I let him run. I brought him back and towards the net. He slid right in. Only then did i realize I had been holding my breath. I kept him in the water and took the hook out. I snapped a quick picture and released him. I felt the weight of the curse of the new net lift off of me. It was over. The net was no longer new and I was sure my fishing would improve. Oh, and by the way, I am stopping on the way home and buying a new leader and replacing spool of tippet- just in case it wasn't the net. You can find me at home tonight sitting on my couch practicing tying my knots with a drink in my hand!

I was fishing in my favorite place in the world. For some reason, I was the only person there on an incredibly beautiful day. Trust me, I am not complaining- just surprised. I can kind of understand why. There are bigger fish in other nearby rivers. The flows have been miserably low. Fishing has been tough. Yet,I could spend everyday there without complaint. 

I was taking my time fishing and really exploring all areas of the river. When fishing is slow for me in an familiar place, I try everything everywhere. I take this as an opportunity to explore areas I have not been in and fish waters that were previously unproductive. I also tangle in trees and hook underwater rocks and branches. I just remember a saying my dear friend told me when we would go fishing, "If you ain't tangling, you ain't fishing" and untangle, dislodge or break off and keep going with my day. I was fishing a slow run and methodically moving from close to me to across the river- even though I have always hooked fish on the far side of the river and never near me. (I have been trying to develop more consistently good skills instead of haphazardly trudging to and through waters.) As I moved a few steps upriver and methodically repeated the process, I hooked something on the bottom. Strange I thought. I have never gotten hung up here but I was hung up for sure. I thought, recent storms have shifted things around and pulled upstream to try and dislodge the hook from what I assumed to be a rock or log. Immediately, the biggest fish I have ever seen in this waterway shoots towards me and downstream, bending my rod by pulling my line as he went. My hook quickly came loose and the monster trout was gone. In typical fashion, my line popped up out of the water and wrapped completely around an overhanging branch. I just stood there processing what just happened. My brain replayed the event. I cast. I had a nice drift. I got hung up. I tried to dislodge. A giant fish was on my hook. Now I was tangled in a tree. Yup. That's what happened. I looked at the tree. I looked back at the water. I shook my head and laughed out loud. That was awesome! It was disappointing too but it was mostly awesome. 

I ended up having to break my rig off on the tree branch. I stood on the side of the river and re-rigged my rod. I couldn't wipe the little grin off of my face. I had just hooked the fish of a lifetime for that  river. I had also just lost the fish of a lifetime for that river. I had just had the most amazing experience at my favorite place in the world. It just doesn't get better than that!

Lately, when I have gone fishing, I have had a great and relaxing time. I kind of wander around, fishing here and there. Sometimes taking a nap or exploring an unfamiliar trail. The one feeling that I haven't felt drive my day is what I call, "The Hunter's Focus." In the past when I approach the water, I am dialed in and almost hyper-focused on the fishing conditions and whether I am catching fish or not. I problem solve and try different tactics until I catch fish. That is my purpose and my focus. After a few fish to hand, I begin to relax and enjoy my surroundings and the different pleasures of fly fishing and being outdoors. 

This "Hunter's Focus" has been largely missing from my days on the water. Rather, I am more relaxed than focused. I am grateful to be present without necessarily measuring the success in my day with how many fish I catch (or even if I catch a fish). In all honesty, I am okay with this shift. I feel like people go through phases in fishing and going fishing serves different purposes at different times. With all of the COVID stay at home restrictions, fishing has become my little escape from my house. I am working both jobs from home. I am helping my son with his distance learning from home. We are eating every meal at home and the only place I really go outside of my home is grocery shopping and fishing- each once a week. The benefits of all this time at home have been immense. My son and I are closer than we have ever been before. We are eating healthier. Our dogs are super happy. My weekly fishing adventures have become my only real outlet that doesn't involve being home and my attitude towards fishing has shifted to reflect this.

However, this last weekend I got a little reminder of the hunting feeling that can be a part of fly fishing. I was on a river and there were some fish rising. Where they were rising made casting a challenge and getting a decent drift even harder. I found myself focusing in on the challenge of presenting that perfect fly. I would mend-cast and bend over in the water to follow my fly as it approached across the river. I think I was even holding my breath. I had several takes and hooked a few fish. I felt that old rush of success that used to drive all of my fishing efforts. It was fantastic! 

In some ways, feeling that reminded me of the challenges and rewards that can be a part of fly fishing. It can calm and excite. It can serve as a distraction or a point of focus. I am so very grateful to have it be both in my life. When I need that relaxing getaway, you will find me relaxing among some sun-warmed rocks with a "no-care-in-the-world" grin on my face. When I am in hunting mode, you will find me focused on the task at hand. Either way, you will find me on a river just about every week!

I fish a handful of places. Most of the time I am there solo but I often run into other anglers. This last year with the COVID surge in people being outdoors, I have seen and met more people on the water than ever before. Many are new fisherman. Some are veteran anglers looking for new waters. Some are amazing anglers and others are just figuring it out. On a local water a few months ago, I came across 2 amazing anglers. They were friendly, smart and clearly passionate about fly fishing. We had a great chat, connected on Instagram and have been liking each other's pictures on Insta since. 

Fast forward a few months to this last weekend. I went to a waterway that I haven't been to in over a year. The last time I was there I didn't do very well. I had not been there for some time and completely forgot the tactics that worked there. I kicked myself for not being more diligent about writing things in my fishing journal and set to figuring it out again. This is a waterway that can easily render 20+ fish days of big, beautiful trout. I was just trying to not get skunked. We arrived and found every nook and cranny had an angler or 2 already fishing. We killed time until things opened up. When we settled into a spot, there was already an angler fishing on the other side of the bank. This is an area that generally only fishes 2 people. The angler waved us in and told us to join him. This guy was roping in the fish. Fish after fish he landed. He readily shared fly information and was super supportive of any hit or hook up we had. We were having a blast. Then his 2 friends joined him. I thought for sure we would see trouble because I am a bit of a hurricane when I fish. The 5 of us fished and I hooked trees, tangled in other peoples' lines and even hooked a fish he already hooked. I waited for the angry fisherman explosion. I am still waiting. These guys were consummate gentlemen. They laughed off the foibles, helped where they could and the air of the day in this pool was that of a party. I remember fishing this spot many times but I don't ever remember having so much fun. 

After I went home, I posted a picture on Insta and the 2 guys I met on the small local river a few months ago recognized me as that person from then and today. We had both thought it was the other but communicating that across the loud river was a challenge to try to make that  connection apparent. We laughed when we finally made that connection afterwards and messaged back and forth how much fun we all had that day. I was again in awe of their angling skills and their amazing personalities. When I think back to other anglers I have met, so many times they are kind and supportive. Sometimes they are not. Sometimes their egos are fed with a competition to outfish everyone else at all costs. These guys however, were the epitome of confident angling. They have caught enough fish to not take it too seriously but take it seriously enough to help others experience success. These guys are the real deal and it is a pleasure to run into them on any water. Their encouragement and help aided me in ending my recent fishing slump and having a blast in the process. They have a formal group supporting new anglers on Instagram. Check out @nilesflycasters to see what they are up to and how you can support them. And if you are really lucky, you will see Josh and Brett on the water and have a party alongside them- don't get mad when they outfish you. Just watch, learn and have a blast!

I have been in a fishing slump lately. I still enjoy being on the water and look forward to my Sunday trips every week. However, I have been lacking what I call that "hunting drive" when I am fishing. I fish. I also sit on the bank and take a nap. When what I am doing doesn't catch fish, I may change the weight or length of my rig. However, I can hardly seem to muster the will to try fly after fly in pursuit of that tug. I am not sure what is happening with me. Going fishing is my sanity. I just don't seem to be going catching lately. I am in a fishing slump...

I have been addressing this slump by diving deeply into fishing related activities. My vise is on my kitchen counter. I tie flies between meetings or just when I need a little break throughout the day. My tying skills are showing the impact of the TOV (time on the vise). I have become enamored with rowing my friends around rivers. Getting to know my little raft has proven to be an exhilarating experience. My rowing skills are increasing with every trip. I am learning currents and how a boat behaves in the water. I took the raft out this last weekend and learned how to sit it in an eddie behind a rock while my fishing buddy thoroughly fished a gorgeous run. I can back row over and over and haven't even begun to feel any fatigue in my arms after 6 hour float. It is a new and amazing aspect of fly fishing that I am enjoying. 

The fishing buddies that I am rowing around are not in slumps. This means that I am also working on my fish netting techniques. I love that part- Getting a fish in the net. I can feel myself holding my breath until the fish is safely netted and we can high-five congratulations. Keeping the fish  safe and wet and then getting that awesome picture have also become new skills I am honing. You could say that by helping others, I am helping myself to work through my own slump. Whenever I feel down bout not feeling driven to catch a fish, I look at the flies I have tied, the pictures of friends with their beautiful catches and I am reminded that my passion for fly fishing is still deep- even if my catching is taking a break.

these are a few of my favorite things...

Just when I thought I had bitten just about every aspect of fly fishing, someone let me sit in an oarsman's seat and row a boat. I found it scary, stressful and exhilarating. I was trembling with stress and smiling from ear to ear at the same time. Never ever had I been so aware of the river. Her subtle cues and ways of moving became clues as to how to navigate her waters. Is that thing coming up a rock or merely a riffle? Where is the deepest spot to pass through a shallow? What is the best approach to a water feature? I became fascinated by the approach and "fall into" a line in the river. It was beautiful, strong, powerful and gentle all in the same stroke.

I immediately invested in an oar driven two-person boat. I couldn't wait to get on the water. Little did I know, COVID times would make the arrival of my boat later. I also came to realize the rowable waters near me are heavy with rafters during the summer. I waited for the boat to arrive and the river to open. Today was the day that I got to put my new boat in the water and row my good friend down the river. 

I was nervous. I had dreams about anchors falling off and boats being lost to the current passengerless. But, when I awoke, we set off and had a beautiful day on the river. It took some time to dial in the handling of the boat. As a double pontoon, it is subject to the current quickly. The oars are smaller and less effective than that of a drift boat. Back rowing and dropping into a line is a skill I need to refine. Overall, I had a tremendously fun day. Did I mention that I didn't even bring a rod? I never cast a line. I rowed. I paid attention to my friend fishing. I tried to refine my oarsmanship. I read the river. I had a phenomenal day. I truly hope it is the first of many days that I don't catch a fish. The first of many days where I watch my fellow anglers roping in fish. The first of many days when I have oars in my hands.

My favorite place in the world is in pretty sad shape right now. There has been a master operating agreement that allows the flows to be lowered to a trickle. For over a month the water flow has been at horribly low levels. The river is filled with weeds and algae. You get whiffs of rotten egg smell from the standing water in certain areas. It breaks my heart. I can't bring myself to aggressively fish under these conditions. The fish are struggling enough under the miserable management of the operators of the waterway without me adding to their stress.  

Even though I am not actively fishing the water, I still feel like I need to be present in the river. As strange as it may sound, I feel a relationship and a bond to this place and I am not someone who stays around just when times are good and easy. If I am connected to someone or something, it is for the good and bad. For every amazing fishing day I have had at this spot, I am willing to stand by her for days while the angling community bands together to work on behalf of this river's health. Unfortunately, politics moves slowly and rarely in the direction towards fish and river health. The river doesn't vote or contribute to politician's campaigns so it has little pull with the powers that be. I regretfully anticipate that the river will have low flows for a long time- or at least as long as the parties with vested interest and control say it will. Because of this, I have taken this opportunity to spend time on the river in different ways.

Sometimes I take my rod out and practice my casting. I have rigged up a little spey rod and have found some spots where I have room to work on my spey cast timing and form. Luckily these spots are rather secluded so no one sees my feeble attempts at this new-to-me casting strategy. Other days I work on my roll cast or play around with different set ups to see how they behave in the water. 

The low flows have made the river super wadable. I have been able to venture and cross in areas I have struggled to access in the past. Even though I have spent numerous days on this river, there are still places I haven't explored. I have taken this opportunity to go where I haven't gone before. I am spending time moving through the water. I am seeing the river as more than a place that holds fish. I am learning her curves and valleys. I am seeing the impacts of other creatures. I explored a giant beaver dam that I can barely believe was made by such a small creature. I am picking up trash that I see. I am talking to hikers and other fishermen. I am exploring this beloved place. I am breathing it in deeply and exhaling a new familiarity of it. There are times that I find a spot and just sit down. I close my eyes and listen to the water. I inhale the smells of foliage. I feel far away- lighter almost. Other times I just stand in waist deep water and let my fingers trail along in the water until they get too cold to take anymore of the chill. 

My heart aches for this waterway in her current condition. I want to go and pull the gates of the dam open- like giving a lifesaving breath to someone struggling to breath. I cannot. I know it doesn't matter to the river whether I am there with her or not but I do know that it matters to me that I am there. As fellow anglers work on her behalf, I will be there standing in her waters and doing what little I can to help- even if that means just being a witness to her condition. 

Fly fishing has numerous subcultures. People often dabble in some and sometimes specialize in one. I love all things fly fishing so I dabble in all. I have become quite the consumer of tying, casting, fishing rods, reels and lines and all accutroment associated with fly fishing. However, I am the master of none- enjoying everything but specializing in nothing. As I have taken time to explore pieces and parts of fly fishing, I have met leaders in these subcultures. I have met Bud Heintz- our local fly tying master. I have watched Marty K. roll cast with delicate distance and accuracy. I have watched members explore the pro's and con's of rods, reels and lines with language I have to google to understand. I have spent time with Gary Turri, Sara Trenschel and Willy George marvelling at their line control during casting. As I have spent time with these leaders in their specialties, I have heard about special places and things in these subcultures. One of those places is the casting ponds at Golden Gate Park. 

I have seen pictures and heard stories about the ponds. There have been movies and videos about casting days and competitions. I had never been there- mostly because I hate going to San Francisco. I only go there for work or to see my favorite band once or twice a year. I dread driving there and do whatever I can to avoid it. However, my friend Sara had offered to give me some pointers on my slowly developing spey cast and this was going to happen at the casting ponds. So I drove there this past Sunday.

I drove early into San Francisco hoping that the combination of COVID and an early morning arrival would alleviate traffic challenges. I arrived at a little parking lot hidden amongst the trees of Golden Gate Park. A short walk led me to the ponds. This classic and beautiful spot clearly had its draw. I wadered up, strung my rod and joined Sara in the pond.

Sara is a gifted caster and teacher. This is something she has worked hard at and nurtured over the course of several years of dedicated practice. It didn't take her long to teach me the spey basics and target gentle corrections on my movements. My cast was instantly transformed for the better. I practiced and watched people all around me working and practicing their casting. It was wonderful to watch. 

I was particularly struck by Sara. She was the only woman in a group studying for their spey casting certification. Sara practiced, received feedback and performed right alongside of every person in the group. The ponds can be an intimidating place. Standing in the open in the water, your skills and habits are exposed to every person there. It is not easy to be publicly bad at something we generally do in the privacy of a river away from observing eyes. Putting yourself out there feels risky but has amazing benefits. Sara has become the caster and teacher she is through practice and feedback in this very public place over time. Sara epitomized what fly fishing can be for those who want to enjoy it- an opportunity to push yourself and develop skills in beautiful places. I am so very grateful to have joined her on this day. I can't wait for my next trip to the ponds!

When I take someone new fishing or fish a new water, I always say the same thing as I grab my net- "A net is sometimes a hopeful gesture." I think this is somewhat to dampen my expectations going into new waters or attempting to deal with the pressure of catching when taking someone fishing. Putting the net in my pack suggests that I expect to catch fish and saying my little saying lowers my expectations. I find that if and when we actually catch fish on that day, the lowered expectations result in increased joy at a catch and met expectations if we don't.

Recently, I have been fishing pretty well. My net has been getting a workout and it has been great. I haven't just been imitating the examples that served as the cornerstone of my early fishing days. I am exploring and trying new things. I have been having a blast and growing in confidence. Where I loved being on the water before, I feel so at home now that I find myself in a bubble of contentment and happiness that I could never even adequately describe with words. Catching fish and using my net has been a wonderful aspect of the experience that I have become accustomed to- I have come to almost expect it recently. Yeah- it has been a bit since I have been skunked!

I have tried a number of nets and net attachments. They have all been adequate but none have felt right. If I hang the net on my back, it catches on branches as I hike. If I hang it from my hip pack, I am so short it drags and hits my lower legs. If I tuck it in my pack, I can't reach it when I need it. I have tried all sorts of nets- short and long, retractible and loose. Recently I came upon a foldable net and thought I would give it a try. Maybe this would accommodate some of my net challenges. It could sit on my side- easy to grab. It would be folded up so it wouldn't catch on brush and trees. I received it last week. I practiced folding it- which actually took me some time to figure out and I put it on my hip pack, ready to get it wet and put that first fish in it.

I went to where I have been catching fish regularly. For several weeks I have caught fish consistently here. I was brimming with confidence as I set out on the water. That confidence slowly eroded as the day passed without so much a a bump. How could this happen? Here? What happened?

As joyful as fishing is, it can also be humbling. On this day I was appropriately humbled. My new net remained dry and clean. There was no need to pull it out and have it snap open. There was no need to fold it up and put it away. On this day- my first day using my new net, it turned out to be just a hopeful gesture attached to my hip pack. No worries. Eventually it will hold a fish- just not today...

I am going to be honest with you all. I take horrible pictures and videos on the water. I blame my really short arms. They make it hard to get focus... Just kidding! Often it is because I feel rushed to get the fish released healthy and as unstressed as possible. I use a net and keep the fish in the water as much as possible to mitigate the negative. I try to take a photo pretty quickly and don't always stop and check before releasing the fish. 

Oh yeah- the "release" of the fish. I am really bad at that too! I specialize in unintentional releases quite often. The fish wiggle out of my hand before I get a picture. Usually this only happens if the fish is exceptionally beautiful or large or the only fish I catch that day! Today I was fishing and I caught a little fish. He was cute and I snapped a picture. Then I caught a beautiful 12 inch fish on a little river. That is pretty big for this river. I thought it would be cool to get a release video of him swimming away to share on these musings. I held him in the net while I pulled my camera out and set it to video. I bent over the net and pushed the start button on the camera. I reached down to gra the fish, saw his beautiful image on my screen and released him back into the water. Perfect! I was glowing with pride. Beautiful footage of a beautiful fish to commemorate my beautiful day. I decided to sit and relax and pulled up the video I had just taken. All there was was 2 seconds of video that showed my net and the water. No fish. No release. Nothing. What a bummer! I set off to fish again to see if I could have another go at my goal.

I fished a bit more and caught another sizeable fish for this tiny river. I got a picture and footage of this one. It was one of my classic fish in my net picture and fish leaving my hand videos. As I often fish alone, I have lots of pictures of fish in my hand, fish in my net, fish swimming out of my hand. You get the picture! Not too many pictures of much but the fish. This is cool with me as fish are incredibly beautiful. They have a casual beauty that makes me catch my breath as they move in the water and the light. Without even trying, they glimmer and shine as they gracefully move until they disappear into the water. I am grateful for their beauty as they look amazing in the pictures that even I take- at least the fish I get in the frame!

A few years ago Dena and I attended the Women's Angle in Redding. This was the first time that I attended a women's focused fly fishing gathering. I was blown away by the number of women anglers there. I was overwhelmed by the fact that women were the instructors of all the classes. There was a bunch of fly fishing knowledge, empowerment and passion present that day. While they didn't repeat the event the next year, I found it to be a transformational experience for me in believing that fly fishing really is open to women. Special acknowledgement to The Fly Shop in Redding for putting on this event!

Fast forward to an email letting me know that the women leaders in the fly fishing industry were forging new ground by putting on the first virtual fly fishing expo and the target audience was women. "Celebrating Women in Fly Fishing" promised women presenters, women focused presentations and access to companies owned and developed with women anglers in mind. They did not disappoint! There were presentations on self defense and empowering other anglers. There were presentations and interviews about the historical figures in women's fly fishing including current and local female pioneers. Women specific waders and gear were presented. Starting small businesses was highlighted. Inclusion in fly fishing was discussed. In addition to these topics, fly fishing skills were presented, casting tips shared and angling skills developed in this virtua setting.

All of this was wonderful. I walked away with more knowledge, more connections and some new ideas. However, the most pivotal moment for me personally was during the opening session on Friday night. I was late to the party because of family responsibilities but when I joined in and got settled, I looked to the participants' section on my Zoom window. I saw that there were 205 participants. 205 women anglers from all over the world were tuning in on a Friday evening. I could see that there were women like me who were making dinner while we watched. There were women of all shapes, styles, and colors on the screen. I got a little teary eyed. When I looked at the screen of participants, I saw aspects of myself in some form or another in the participants on the screen where I had not really seen this from the fly fishing industry itself. Don't get me wrong, I know the hot woman  holding the fish sells magazines and gear, but I don't see myself in her. Yet, I saw myself in the participants on Zoom. We are out there. We are all over the globe. We are not alone!

I have been away from my home waters for a few weeks. While I have been fishing in beautiful and new places, there have been many moments in which I have yearned to be on my favorite home waters. It is like seeing a familiar person who brings you comfort and joy. I was ready for a homecoming. After settling in at home a few days, I took my nephew to my super secret fishing spot. As I entered the first pool, I didn't catch a fish. As I entered the second pool, I didn't catch a fish. And the third and fourth were the same. I  couldn't believe it. I had brought my nephew because I can catch fish here- only I wasn't catching fish today. I felt terrible. We had a few bumps but didn't land anything until the 5th pool. At the 5th pool I got it right. I turned the rig over to my nephew and sat and watched him land about 5 fish. It was awesome to be home...

#noplacelikehome

#fishliveinbeaautifulplaces

#myfamilymyfishinglegacy

I had my first saltwater fishing experience while on vacation in Maui last week. I did my best to prepare by taking a special casting lesson and practicing my casting before I went. I am not sure anything could have prepared me for the actual experience. 

First off, you need to know that I am terribly afraid of the ocean. I saw the movie Jaws at the age of 7. I used to get scared in my own pool at home when I was a child. My fear is irrational and I know it. Knowing it doesn't keep me from feeling the fear though. I think this is part of why I haven't fished in saltwater yet. That is, until last week.

We had arrived on Maui on Friday evening. My fishing guide was booked for Tuesday. Monday night he called and let me know that the winds were forecast to be too high for fly fishing so we rescheduled for Thursday. This gave me a chance to swim in the ocean a few times with my family.

Thursday came and I met my colorful guide at 7. Captain Jon Jon is a bit of a local celebrity. He is on kayak fishing shows and runs the only guide company on Maui.

Our session began with an assessment of my casting. After a brief beach casting session, we moved into the kayak and set out on the water.

Captain Jon Jon spotted fish and directed my casting. I did my best to get it out there where he said. We had a few chases but no takes. The reef we were fishing combined wading amongst rocks and on uneven ground with handling waves all while casting. Turtles swam around us. We explored chances for a few hours and the wind began picking up. The waves breaking around us began knocking me over. Jon Jon told me that we should head in- that the wind was too strong. He said to take one last cast and we would call it- even though we were empty handed.

While I was disappointed to be fishless, I was a bit relieved to be getting out of the water. I was exhausted from motoring the fishing kayak, dealing with the waves and my arm was sore from casting. I chucked the fly as far as a I could and was ready to call it a day- when the fish hit.

The fish ran me into the backing. Not just to the backing but almost through the backing. This was repeated another 5 times. We finally landed the bonefish and snapped a few pictures before high tailing it to shore. We rode the waves in the kayak like a surfboard. On the way in, Captain Jon Jon told me that half of the people he took surfing don't land a fish. While I would have been satisfied with the ocean experience, knowing that gave me further appreciation of the experience.

#almostastatistic

#onthegoodsideof50%

#firstboner

Great guides are magic. Fly fishing guides tend to be pretty amazing people. They are knowledgeable, kind, patient, funny and in tune with their environment. I am a bit addicted to guides and trips with guides. They help me become a better fisherman, a better steward of the waterways, and provide amazing experiences that I wouldn't have found on my own. I was looking forward to a McCloud experience like that when I booked Chuck from Wildwaters. Initially we had talked about fishing the Conservancy. However, when Chuck showed up that morning he asked if I would be open to a different adventure. He said he had a good feeling about the Upper McCloud and had his boat at the boat ramp in hopes I would be willing to go that direction with him that day. 

Chuck is an amazing angler who has guided this water for a long time. If Chuck says we should go to the Upper McCloud, then we go to the Upper McCloud. So- we went. 

Chuck launched the boat into the emerald colored McCloud Reservoir. We jetted up the arm towards the Hearst property. We landed the boat just next to the spot where Mud Creek joins the Upper McCloud. Mud Creek is fed by glacial melt. This time of the year, the color of the water is an amazing turquoise because of the volcanic ash in the glacial water. That water meets the spring fed Upper McCloud to provide a 44 degree trout haven. Chuck had me walk and wade this section. Then he drifted the boat down the river-like arm of the reservoir while fish slammed my fly. When we got to the wider part of the water where the current disappeared, we fired up the engine and repeated the procedure for the entire day. I fished dries to risers, indicator fished in different spots and roped in amazing and beautiful fish over and over again. 

This is an area that is only accessible by experienced jet boat operation. This is something that only an experienced guide can make happen. So grateful for Chuck and his guidance in making this amazing experience a reality.

#wildwatersrocks

#LocalKnowledge

#passion+dedication+knowledge

When i fished the Upper McCloud with a guide, we were just moving towards the end of the day by finishing up a drift down the current of an arm of the McCloud Reservoir. We ended up along an inside bend of a wide swath of water. As we came around the bend, my indicator started taking a dive over and over. Fish after fish hit my flies in this honey hole. Mind you, this was after a wonderfully fun and successful day of fishing. We were ready to bring it in for the day but just couldn't tear ourselves away from this spot just quite yet. 

The catching didn't take any necessary skill. The biggest challenge was not looking away from the indicator as it didn't sit for very long before a take. Fish after fish after fish after fish almost paid homage to our guide putting us in the right spot and the right time. It felt almost too easy.... That is not the norm in fly fishing. 

As we motored home after my arm finally said enough and the sun began to disappear over the mountains, we talked about how rare it can be to have that experience. We also talked about how wonderful it was. While it didn't take any of my skill to catch all those fish, it did take skill and knowledge from my guide. I just got to feel what it was like to catch a ton of fish. Let me tell you, it felt good!

#somanyfish

#homagetoChuck

#UpperMcCloud

#Ohwhataday

Being a fly fishing guide has to be a challenge. It is taking something you love and making it your work. It is easy to lose what you love by doing this. Something about it is tough for me to swallow. You literally take people to your favorite spots and show them how to catch fish there. Guiding a waterway you love probably feels like a bit of a betrayal. I imagine it is easy to get burnt out on the hard physical work, the challenge of getting people fish- especially if they don't listen, and the loss of hands on fishing as it becomes more of a spectator sport.

However, when I took my nephew fishing on the Truckee with one of my favorite guides, I was struck by the power of being a fly fishing guide. My nephew is new to fly fishing. He is smart and eager. He fishes wherever he can but is learning on his own. That is a tough way to learn. The learning curve is steep and guidance really helps make it more palatable. He has been doing it on his own for a year. So, for his birthday, I set up this guided fishing trip to give his skills and experience a boost. I was awestruck at the interaction between he and our guide, Matt. The impact that Matt had was profound. I realized that Matt did this all the time. He forged new anglers. He taught the large and small skills. He instilled the respect and care of the fishery. While he was giving away his experience and knowledge, he was also forging a legacy few of us could ever imagine.

I will be lucky to help a handful of people get started in fly fishing in my life. My son, my niece, a friend here or there- they will be my fly fishing legacy. For our guide Matt, his legacy will be far reaching. People will honor his experience and knowledge well into the future. I imagine that my nephew will hand much of it off to his future children. I am Matt's legacy. Everyone that fishes with him will move forward with a piece of him and his beloved river to fish forward into the future. What a legacy to leave!

#honortofishwithyou

#livinglegacy

#thefutureofflyfishingiswhatyoudointhepresent

I spend a lot of time on the water. I generally fish twice a week. You can set your clock by it. If I am not fishing twice a week, it is because I am fishing more often on a special trip. I have been putting a bit of time on the water. And yet, it still amazes me that I catch most of my fish by accident.

I go to fish a section or spot and the fish are not necessarily where I think they should be. Rather, I hook a fish when I am bringing my line in to recast, or sliding it along to check my flies, or taking line out to get ready to fish, or any other time I think I am not quite fishing- that is when I catch fish.

It is actually quite funny. I tend to laugh out loud when I realize the fish is on my line. 

Given the amount of time I spend on the water, you would think I would be better at fishing than I am. But, I am not. Sometimes it feels as though every fish I catch is a fish of a thousand casts. I wonder if one day I will figure it out and catch fish with intention? I don't know. But, I do know that I catch more fish than I used to catch. I also know that if I just keep getting my line wet and getting out there, I am bound to learn lessons from when I catch fish- whether it is by accident or not!

#goodaccidents

#thosefishsurprisemesometimes

#readingwaterisntphonicsforme