All fly fishers love fly shops. These stores stand as the brick and mortar embodiment of fly fishing culture.
Fly shops are about more than buying gear. They are usually just off the banks of water productive enough to warrant a full-time angling retail option. The people employed are almost always passionate about the sport, and generally personable enough to hold a conversation. There is also the pleasant, stereotypical aesthetic: huge rod rack, mounted fish from an era when it was appropriate, rainbow walls of tying materials, and probably a sleepy dog.
Everyone has a favorite fly shop. The first fly shop that I fell in love with was a Sports Authority.
I had just started fishing with conventional tackle. As a teenager, I’d hang out in the fishing section once week. I would look at crankbaits, wiggle rods, and stare at the expensive reels behind glass. Initially, I ignored by the assortment of fuzzy, weightless lures and tiny spools of monofilament “tippet”. Every once in a while, I’d spend enough money for a bag of soft plastic grubs. And I got to know the employees that manned the outdoors department.
Around the time my friends and I could drive, we switched over to primarily fly fishing. I bought my first fly rod at Sports Authority. The Crystal River 5/6-weight had a foam handle and a butt section as wide as a hot dog. It wasn’t the fly fishing gear that sold me on the bog box retailer. It was the employees. The men that worked there weren’t fly fishermen. Looking back, they probably just knew enough to get by. They took time to talk with me in a friendly, helpful, and genuine manner. I only ever had a few dollars to spend, but I looked forward to heading to the back corner of the store to browse tackle and talk to the guys.
As a teenager, that wasn’t always my experience when I was in traditional fly shops. Out of either resilience or naivete, I wasn’t bothered too much when some reputable shops didn’t give me the light of day. Eyes were rolled when I asked to cast rods (even though I had a wad of hundreds in my pocket from my after-school job). Hands were waved in the general direction of bins when I inquired what flies were working (even though I was spending more time studying Latin taxonomy than whatever classes I was actually taking).
The conversations at Sports Authority were so much more valuable than name brands or pro staffs. I came to learn that getting proficient at catching fish means leaning on people. Understanding conservation means leaning on people. Fly fishing, at a macro level, means leaning on people.
As I was able to drive more and spend more, I frequented Sports Authority less. While the chain store met my basic needs, certain niche wants had to be sourced from fly shops. I did find some great shops with knowledgeable staff and customer service driven owners. Just like trout are part of an ecosystem where every variable is ultimately integral to the life of the network, the culture of fly fishing is made up of many parts. There are some – such as the noble fly shop – that seem a bit more honorable than others. But each and every one, even a big box chain only offering foam-handled rods, has a purpose.
This post is an updated, edited, and shortened version of a 2015 article called “The Fly Fishing Authority.” Re-working content is an opportunity for newer readers to see and for me to revisit older pieces.