Earlier this week I shared four fall fly fishing fixes.  A “fix,” of course, is simply a compromised synonym for “tip” imposed to create a clever sounding title. Oh well, it’s what’s on the inside (of the article) that counts.

After posting the piece, rereading it, and seeing how hundreds of other people have read it, I got to thinking that I really didn’t capture the spirit of fall fly fishing. Given, that is a herculean literary task. Really, is it possible to put into words how amazing it is to be outdoors in autumn? Unless you hate leaves, crisp air, and the faint smell of wood smoke,  there is a totally unique sensory experience that is unparalleled across the other seasons.

Add in being on the water early in the morning, and you have a recipe for pure joy.

There are little things that fly fishing in the fall entails. That morning cup of coffee now serves an additional function. It tastes good and gives you caffeine, but now that extra warmth is necessary for getting out of the car on a chilly October dawn. A warm fleece is comfortable and important as the sun rises higher in the sky. Shedding it as noontime arrives means feeling the rush of fresh air on exposed forearms and the back of your neck.

And the colors of those fish.

Brook trout and brown trout take on shapes and colors that, while meant for enticing the affections of the opposite gender, drive anglers wild. Picturing those hooked jaws, orange bellies, humped backs, and vivid halos elicits imagery of fish that easily rival the full splendor of fall foliage.  And, fortunately for us, these fish are personally much more concerned about getting angry at flies than they are about looking good.

The fish and the water are important. They are, after all, the focal point of this whole enterprise. But, as I’ve said so often before, there is a quarry   and a culture.

Shorter days justify breakfast at the diner at a reasonable hour, as well as a campfire meal that doesn’t keep you up past 9:00pm. Unless you want it to.  Those things are important. They do matter. Fishing doesn’t mean casting 24/7. Like the cadence of a well-delivered cast, fall forces us to appreciate the pauses in the rhythm of a day spent fishing.

The rhythm of the season  is also beneficial. In our greater culture, things calm down (almost to our detriment) in the middle summer then intensify  as August rolls into September.  Things begin to become more steady for most people after schedules and life shake out in the beginning of October. Taking a fall day to devote oneself to fishing is much more manageable. Facing the question “fishing or football?” is a relatively benign decision one can labor over.

Ultimately, the tactics don’t matter a whole lot. It isn’t like you’re fishing in winter… (which is coming quickly, by the way). Want to catch fish? Throw a woolly bugger, copper john, or hare’s ear nymph. The end.  Are there more productive ways to get them? Of course. But you know how to fish. At the end of the day, getting out there for solitude or camaraderie will get you the satisfaction you are looking for. And the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings of fall only add to the experience.