I had never casted my fly rod before. I felt like the right thing to do was to wait until I was on a trout stream. All or nothing; all for a $25, boxed rod, reel, and line from a department store.
But wouldn’t you know it, I caught a fish on my second cast ever.
For months I had been reading about fly fishing. I had been watching different Saturday morning outdoor programs, focusing on different pages in Cabela’s catalogs, and day dreaming about different fish. Teenage me had developed a one-track trout mind. I still loved bass fishing. While I was preparing for my big inaugural fly fishing trip I continued to go to local ponds every other day. My big Plano tackle box went where I went, and I employed each lure with the knowledge gleaned from Bassmaster tournament coverage. As time went on, I didn’t love bass fishing less. I just began to love fly fishing for trout more.
What really captivated me was the people, places, and things that came with fly fishing.
Initially, I liked the optics and the feel of a fly cast more than I appreciated the benefits of the technique. I enjoyed the aesthetics of a tiny dry fly more than actually fishing with one… or attempting to tie the thing. And I even loved walking the banks of a spring creek, even though the prospects of catching a trout were slim. For some reason, that was okay. Less fish and smaller fish were okay as I was figuring it all out.
As I continued to fish and to learn, my attachment grew from surface-level infatuation to true endearment. The trajectory generally matched the increase in the number and size of fish caught, but I don’t know how strong the correlation was. I began to love fly casting, the tiniest of dry flies, and the addictively frustrating nature of spring creeks. Fly fishing was full of wonderful, beautiful things. It took me to some remarkable places. More than most of that, fly fishing has introduced me to some incredible people.
I’ve only been fly fishing for over 20 years. I’ve made innumerable casts since the one that yielded a little brown trout on the Yellow Breeches in Pennsylvania. I’ve accumulated some truly special things, been all over the world, and become acquainted with a diverse and fascinating community. The last thing I want to do is sell fish short: the quarry of fly fishing is an essential part of this whole endeavor. But the culture of fly fishing? That is what caught me.
Tomorrow is the 4th anniversary of Casting Across.
It has been a labor of love to put out all 600-plus posts on everything from gear reviews to personal stories to the occasional attempt at humor. Thank you for being a part of this diverse and fascinating community. Thank you for subscribing, interacting, and, most of all, reading. It means a lot, and it makes it a whole lot more fun to write.
-Matthew