“It looks like the last part of this week is going to be in the mid 50s. I’m considering putting in an hour or 2 on [local river] – would you be interested?”
“YES. Friday?”
“Probably, in the late afternoon”
“Okay. I’ll put it on the calendar.”
“Full disclosure, this piece of river is just ok, and that’s if I’m being polite.”
“Ha. I have a much better chance of catching fish on an ok river than at my desk.”
“Exactly!”
This is a word for word text exchange from yesterday. It is two guys planning a fishing outing. But there’s something else going on. And it is something that I want to preach; something I want to practice, as well.
I want to fish more “just ok” water.
For years, I had the privilege of living near stream after stream with the highest designations the respective states could muster. Lots of fish per mile. Lots of natural reproduction. Lots of special regulations to make you feel like it was only a matter of your skill versus the big, plentiful fish.
All the while, I knew that there were numerous other streams that legitimate fly fishers spent their time on. Even though these guys knew their stuff, they occupied themselves with these “marginal” rivers. What did they know that I didn’t?
Come to find out, it was a few things.
First, there is adventure in leaving the special regulation signs behind. By and large, there’s not books written about random creeks. The stream side trails are more rugged. And the reward for all that risk has the potential to be really high.
Second, there is challenge. Assuming the fish are there, you have to find them. Once you find them, they aren’t inherently dumber than the trout on the creek with the bona fides. And even if they are, they probably don’t have as many friends around in case you mess up your single shot at a good presentation.
Third, I have a lot of “okay” water around me. Way more than good, great, or exceptional. Since I like to think I’m at the point where the experience is not necessarily driven by quantity of fish, there is a lot I can pull out of these mediocre watersheds. And if I’m honest, I do hold onto the hope that the just okay river is really a pretty decent river. After all, I did redact the name from my conversation.