The Five People You Meet in Fly Shops

We’ve all been there before. Standing in front of the rod rack at our local fly shop, trying to justify another 5-weight, and you hear the voice. “Kids these days! With their sling packs and their Twitters… no wonder I can’t catch any fish!” The shop employee is nodding along, but at a rhythm that clearly demonstrates his well-honed skill to hear without listening. His thousand-yard stare is evident to everyone but the ranting grump.

After nearly two decades of formal, empirical anthropological research, I’ve developed an efficient classification system and taxonomy for the types of individuals one encounters in fly shops. As a former fly shop employee, an occasional customer, and a curious observer of awkward situations, I believe that I am uniquely qualified for such a study. I’d like to present my completely objective findings.

One quick note: I try to be as gender-inclusive as possible when I write, but here I’m using male pronouns. I’m sure I’ve noticed the following behaviors/traits in women, but honestly, in my mind these characters are all men. A braver author than I can write the “Annoying Lady Anglers” article.

The Gear Guy / The High Roller Is it new? He wants it. Will it be redundant? It doesn’t matter. No plans to fly fish for tuna? Well, you never do know when a 14-weight might come in handy.

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The Little Red River: Trout in the South

If your first taste of meat was a filet of Kobe beef at a high end Japanese steakhouse, there is a good chance that it might impact your opinion of every backyard sirloin for the foreseeable future. The first time I ever saw a trout river, the sheer number and size of the fish was ridiculous. For a while, every little creek back home was compared to the wide, cold, trout-filled waters of the Little Red River.

The southernmost of Arkansas’ major tailwater systems, the Little Red’s tributaries and forks meet up north of the village of Heber Springs to form Greers Ferry Lake. In 1959, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers continued to tame the south’s waterways by damming up the Little Red for energy, flood control, and the economic benefits of recreation. Upon completion of the dam in 1962, President John F. Kennedy appeared at the dedication. It was to be his last significant public appearance before his assassination in Dallas the next month. The federal trout hatchery below the dam bears his name.

As is the case with any impoundment and tailwater, there are lengthy lists of pros and cons respective to its creation and existence. Generally speaking, if the new lake submerged one’s property or interests the reception was and is quite icy. The history of the Tennessee Valley Authority and other similar projects in the south is fascinating and worth being aware of. Culturally and anthropologically, the relationship between the government, the locals, and the physical environment is complex and often emotional.

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Fly Fishing with Snakes

I’m not afraid of snakes. What I’m not a fan of is their snaky-ness. Herpetologically speaking, this is the trait that snakes possess that allows them to surprise you. Rarely does one see a snake coming from a long distance off, as you would with a bison or a truck full of rural folk. The aforementioned disturbances announce their presence, and often their intentions, with snorting and general carrying on. Snakes might rattle. And that is only some of them.

If you fish, you’ve encountered a snake. Swimming through the water. Laying across the trail. Dangling from a tree. Curled up in the toe of your wading boots. Such are the joys/perils of being outside.

In every one of those circumstances, the snake catches you off guard: “What a wonderful day. This is a pleasant path. I love nature. Look at that, a length of hose all the way out… OHGEEZITSASNAKE!” Then, your heart is in your throat. If you’re over 65 or have a “condition,” you probably need to sit down at this point. What fun!

I’ve had some memorable snake experiences. Trigger warning: there are snakes in the stories about snakes I’m about to relay.

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Fly Fishing Films: the Full View

This winter, anglers across the country are buying tickets and filling venues to attend the International Fly Fishing Film Festival. Short films about arctic char, the Montauk coast, and how the internet is impacting fishing will be viewed by thousands at theaters, fly shops, and the Fly Fishing Show. A case could be made for today being   the golden age of fly fishing media.

But a few clicks on social media or fly fishing blogs will make it clear that it isn’t just the premier events that are tapping into the medium of video. The availability of iPhones, GoPros, and other electronics equipped with cameras has made cinematographers out of trout bums and catfish noodlers. Not every clip uploaded to Facebook or Vimeo is the caliber of the IF4 selections. However, the angler with a computer, tablet, or smartphone has a library of thousands upon thousands of fly fishing videos to watch at his or her leisure.

One of the most recent additions to this virtual collection came  from  William Knouse. Growing up in Pennsylvania’s Cumberland Valley, Knouse has had daily opportunities to fish some of the top notch spring creeks and freestone streams on the east coast. Furthermore, his grandfather sat on the banks of the LeTort and watched local fishermen like Vince Marinaro, Charles Fox, and Ed Shenk become nationally known anglers. Those stories, along with his own time on the stream, endeared Bill to the sport and the resource.

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Fly Fishing Guidebooks

If accumulating fly fishing books is a disease, amassing guidebooks is its most acute symptom.

From the ubiquitous Wilderness Adventure Press Flyfisher’s Guide Series to the locally printed spiral-bound booklets available at fly shops, any angler who is drawn to printed works on the sport knows about guidebooks. Even in an age where so much of the information contained in such works is available online, new editions and books are released annually.

Why is that? How can publishers continually profit by chronicling access points? Why is there such a draw to books filled with short anecdotes, hatch charts, and maps of varying levels of usability?

My theory is that their secret formula to success involves playing off of anglers’ 10% need for information and 90% desire for escapism. I’ve benefited significantly from some of the pertinent information in guidebooks, but mostly what they’ve done is whetted my appetite to get out and fish.

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Go West Young Fisherman

Like most teenagers, I had a number of posters up in my room. Along with Michael Jordan soaring towards a slam dunk and the Nirvana smiley-face, I had one from Sage fly rods. In lighting conditions that emulated sepia tones, an angler stood on the banks of a winding river. The water wove through a meadow as massive mountain peaks rose up in the background. Lying in bed at night, imagining myself in that scene was just as fantastical as being able to dunk a basketball.

Living in the east, accessing big, remote, wild water is the exception. There are rivers that meet two, or even all three of those qualifiers, but they are a precious few. Out west, the list of rivers that fit this bill is endless. At least that is the way it can seem to a young man used to mountain creeks and slow, warm water rivers.

It wasn’t a big destination trip that finally took me out west. My then-girlfriend’s, soon to be fiancé’s (now wife’s) family lives in Greeley, Colorado. They saw the aforementioned progression coming into focus, so off we went so I could visit the hinterland.

And I was given permission to bring a fly rod.

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Better Casting? Get a Grip

When I was getting close to finishing graduate school, I decided that a custom bamboo rod was an appropriate way to celebrate. There is something inherently “product of the American education system” about spending a lot of money right as all of those student loans kick in. Regardless, I met with a local builder and picked out a taper, hardware, and finish. A few weeks later, I went to his shop to check on the progress of the rod, find the perfect agate stripping guide, and shape my handle.

I was pretty excited about that last part. With the cork glued and the assembly lined up on the mill for lathing, he began to rough out a half-wells shape. We then identified some of the contours that fit my hand, and he wore it down accordingly. It was pretty amazing; like a biometric scan linking my fly rod only to me.

I regret it.

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I’ve Never Fished Beaver Creek

I’ve driven on Maryland’s I-70 countless times over the years. Most of the miles have been on the stretch between Frederick and Hagerstown. I’ve taken a handful of drives further west, either to continue to the extreme end of the state to fish the Savage River and the Youghiogheny, or to take the spur up to the Pennsylvania turnpike. It is a beautiful drive, with some pretty spectacular vistas as you descend South Mountain.

Something you notice as you come down this gap with a view of the entire valley is the patchwork spread of farmland. Aside from the highway, the only exceptions to this pattern are small settlements spiked with silos or church steeples and tree lines curving and snaking irrespective to the fields’ organization. All too often, the creeks concealed in these trees are creeks in the most basic sense of the word: small, flowing waterways. Channelization, irrigation, agricultural chemicals, and general human impact have led to siltation, increased temperatures, and the virtual elimination of native flora and fauna.

Perhaps the fact that they’ve persevered in spite of these remarkable challenges is why the spring creeks of the Mid-Atlantic are cherished by fly fishers. Even the spring creeks that are less productive seem to garner a greater reputation than perfectly serviceable freestone streams. Certainly the unique ecology, robust insect life, and fat trout are a part of it. But spring creeks are beloved.

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Resolutions are Fishy

I’ve always maintained that New Year’s resolutions are a little silly. Take a goal that tops the priority list for so many people on a yearly basis: lost weight. Okay, if you know you are in need of shedding a few pounds on December 1st, why consume the Big Mac, chocolate cake, and gallon of egg nog before January 1st? Cracking open a new calendar doesn’t endow you with extra will power. If yours does, then I need to start using something different than the one Trout Unlimited sends me.

Consequently, I’ve never put much stock in fly fishing resolutions. I have friends that have made them. I’ve read articles about them. I’m writing an article about them. At the end of the day (or, alternatively, at the beginning of the year) don’t all anglers really “resolve” to do the same thing: catch more fish?

That being said, if you want to chart a course to achieve that goal with some fun waypoint in the form of a resolution, I get it. I’ve spent all the boring second half of the Orange Bowl thinking about it, and I’d like to help you out. As a service to anyone who is looking for something to declare to Facebook, Twitter, or your message board buddies re: fishing in 2016, I have some options for you:

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The Letort: A Limestone Legacy

Yesterday afternoon, I scampered through four inches of New Hampshire snow to my mailbox. Upon seeing the media mail envelope, I knew that the book had come.

Back in August, Mike Klimkos, friend and editor of the Mid Atlantic Fly Fishing Guide, asked if I could share a few thoughts on the Letort Spring Run. Initially the plan was to include some angler testimonials for a fundraiser that the Central Pennsylvania Conservancy was holding in October. The goal was to secure donations in order to purchase a 30-acre tract at the Letort’s headwaters. Upon receiving voluminous testimonials and acquiring other significant content, the plan changed to publishing a book celebrating the Letort. The Letort: A Limestone Legacy is the result of that work, and it is a joy.

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