I am an inept fly fisherman. Let’s get that out of the way as a preface to anything I may ever say or elude to in the future. I make no elusions as to my ability, but rather only to my efforts.
As much sarcasm and blame as I cast to bait fisherman, water that is too cold, water that is too fast, skies that are too clear, fish that are too pressured…. There is really only one truth: I pretty much suck.
That being said, there is much to be applauded, or perhaps a high level of concern earned, for my efforts to catch trout.
Take the first weekend in April for example. John and I walked one mile down a mountain run to reach the center of one of the best trout streams in Virginia. The problem was it turned out to be 4.3 miles in and the water was so swift we could barely stream-cross.
Or a recent trip to Colorado for work where I carved out a couple of hours to get on the water. Yes, there were high winds. Yes, there was high flow. Yes, there was cold water temperature. Yes, there were at least four sets of boot tracks. But we had beer and near perfect drifts…..,but no fish.
Let’s face it… fly fishing is a collection of fleeting moments of perfection surrounded by immeasurable effort and stubbornness.
All I know for sure is May is only a few weeks away. Perhaps less skill will be required.