“That’s a nice fishing rod.”

It is a cold, hard fact that 75% of the time that particular phrase occurs is while someone is standing indoors, wiggling the tip of a fly rod. Ask a fly shop employee. Ask a company rep at a tradeshow. Hand your average angler a fly rod and see what happens. The wiggle, the nod of passive affirmation, and the comment.

That being said, I’d wager that most of us have done it. “This is a nice rod,” we say, as we’re essentially making an evaluation akin to judging a book by its cover. More accurately, it’s like judging a book by the typeface on the cover. Or, the sound the pages make as you flip through them with your thumb. Given, it is sort of like kicking tires on a new car or looking down the sights of a friend’s rifle: there are certain things that we just do when put into a situation. Certain things feel like they help us evaluate what we’re looking at, but these actions really just flit about the periphery of a real assessment. It is forgivable. But it isn’t logical.

I see this phenomenon on a pretty regular basis. There are five fly rods in my office. They are there for decorative purposes, but they’re the real deal. As people come in for various reasons, be they fly fishers or not, most will inevitably find their way to the rod rack. They’ll usually ask if they can touch them, and after my affirmative response they’ll proceed to pick one up. And wiggle it. “Yeah, that’s nice,” is the common sentiment expressed in one way or another. I smile. It is a smile that belies a quick transition from condescension to sheepishness. I know better, but I know I’ve done the same.

For example: I recently told someone that the new Orvis Helios 3 is “a nice rod.” What was I basing my authoritative opinion on? Some online reviews and… me, standing in a store, wiggling a Helios 3. That is the kind of hard-hitting perspective on gear that everyone wants? Right?

This you know better, Matthew moment of irony hit me while driving down the highway. I immediately checked my watch and figured I’d show up right as the local Orvis store opened. Walking in, I presented the whole truth as I coyly made the request to take the rod out for a spin. “All I’ve done is wiggled the thing,” I said, “and I just really want to cast it.” I opted for the 9-foot, 5-weight, 3F. The employees were happy to oblige, and within minutes I was throwing line in the parking lot of a mall.

As a bit of an aside (and this probably deserves a post of its own), kudos to Orvis of Peabody for not showing any hesitation in letting me cast. I’ve been in buying situations at stores where salesfolk hemmed and hawed about finding a spooled-up reel or getting Barb from footwear to cover the fly fishing counter for ten minutes. I’ve been there: working at a shop, you’ll get the guy who wants to just play around on the Saturday before Christmas. It can be a chore. But within reason, fly shops and big-box outdoor stores ought to be ready for customers to cast. The guys at Orvis took care of it.

Was fifteen minutes on pavement enough to make me an expert on the Helios 3? Absolutely not. But I can speak to how the rod loads quickly yet with sensitivity. I can comment on the stability of the top third into the tip as the line unrolls as you make the presentation. I can say that the rod is incredibly comfortable in hand, but the tapered cork will inhibit you from easily using a “forefinger on top” grip. I can tell you I was super-consistent in the thirty- to sixty-foot range, and that the 3F seems like an excellent evolution for the Orvis Helios series.

It isn’t perfect, but it is better than a wiggle and a heartfelt “that’s nice.”

I’d love to get an Orvis Helios 3. If I were to get one, it may very well be the 9-foot, 5-weight, 3F. If I were getting ready to pull the trigger on that purchase, I’d certainly spend some more time in the parking lot at the mall. But whether it be that fly rod or the next for me, or if it is a rod that you have your eye on, make the effort to get out and cast it. There are dozens of different 5-weights because every company wants to make the best. There are dozens of different good 5-weights because not every angler’s casting stroke is going to fit a single rod.

Don’t spend $200 on a label and a wiggle. Don’t spend $900 on a label and a real nice wiggle.