The wind and the snow/rain weren’t ideal, but it was the last day of the season. The birds hadn’t been behaving in any sort of discernable pattern, but it was the last day of the season. None of us had a whole lot of optimism, but it was the last day of the season.
It was precisely the kind of day to be up early, outdoors, and watching the skies.
Knowing that there are just about 9 months between us and the opener, we had gone hunting.
I can’t think of a better way to spend a cold, dismal January day than walking around a convention hall filled with flannel-garbed anglers. But I know that there are some out there who can’t see the appeal.
My perspective is that many who poo-poo fly fishing shows are doing it wrong.
In today’s episode, I share 5 things that I’d do if I was heading to a fly fishing expo event. And to get out ahead of the number one critique: only one of them involves spending any money.
Whether you’re planning on heading to a show or not this winter, this podcast will hopefully give you some ideas.
Also, use code CASTING right now to save 20% and get free shipping at manscaped.com.
Listen to the episode below, or on your favorite podcast app.
Mole and Rat are most well known for their interactions with the capricious Mr. Toad. His automobile-related hijinks keep his rodent friends busy, and beset them with stresses and obligations of no fault of their own. Indeed, Mr. Toad is perhaps the most entertaining character in Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows. However, there is much more in this century-old children’s novel. There are colorful characterizations of anthropomorphic animals which impeccably describe humanity. There are lessons of friendship that exalt loyalty and candor. And there are, through the tiny eyes of the smallest creatures of the river and wood, beautiful descriptions of the world around us.
In an adventure that doesn’t involve the famous Mr. Toad, Mole and Rat volunteered to help look for a missing otter child. As they steer their crude vessel downstream, they are struck with the exquisite allure of the river.
There are a lot of ways that one can ring in the New Year. As a teenager, most of those significant midnight moments involved doing what was most significant to me. And that was fish. My best friend and I would drive up to Southcentral Pennsylvania from Northern Virginia and go to bed around 8:00pm, in a tent, on a frozen field.
There was something that felt significant about waking up early, buying a brand new trout stamp, and catching a fish before most anglers even saw the new year.
Often, buying licenses on New Year’s Day was an adventure in itself. Most fly shops weren’t be open. Before online sales and digital confirmations, ambitious anglers were dependent upon groggy and disgruntled big-box employees. These holiday workers that pulled the AM short straw were less than eager to go through what was relatively complicated paperwork.
Ideally, we’d all be thoughtful and intentional fly shop patrons out of our own wisdom. Sometimes, we need tales of woe to correct us.
And sometimes, we like to be entertained by the ridiculous goings-on that occur at fly shops.
Once again, I’m turning back a few chapters in my life to when I spent some time working at a fly shop. I share a few stories and pass along a few things I’ve learned from my days selling rods, flies, and ugly sweaters.
Lastly, I encourage you to head into your local fly shop to hear some good (and maybe hairy) stories from these important parts of our culture.
Also, use code CASTING right now to save 20% and get free shipping at manscaped.com.
Listen to the episode below, or on your favorite podcast app.
Once again I’m spending the holidays in Virginia. I’m from the Midwest. I root for the Bears, love a good relish tray at family gatherings, and don’t think ketchup belongs on a hot dog. Illinois is where I’m from.
But Virginia is home.
It is where I spent my formative, teenage years. It is where I met my wife. And it is where I started fly fishing. The hollers of the Shenandoah Mountains, just downhill from Skyline drive, are where I met brook trout for the first time. They are where I learned that a short fly rod is a good tool. They are where I ran across rattlesnakes, bear scat, and some of the quirkiest people I’ve ever met in the woods.
So here are a few things I’ve written about my adopted home state. Check out each one by clicking on the picture or the title, and listen to some decent bluegrass for full effect.
A park like Shenandoah has everything going for it.
…everything that could lull you into a state of lackadaisical passivity. Countless amenities with ample signage, easy highway access, and throngs of tourists make a popular east coast park seem overwhelmingly safe. Shenandoah National Park is a place where your grandparents picnic. It is a place where families take half mile hikes. It is a place where tourists drive the well-manicured Skyline Drive.
Then, you see photos like this:
Well, really it is your favorite fly fishing stuff on Casting Across in 2022. But I did want to talk about the articles and podcasts that got the most attention over this past year. I think that both of these segments reflect some good stuff in the fly fishing community, and hopefully what I bring to the table is beneficial to all that stop to read or listen.
I also share some of what I’ve done over the past year, and what I plan to do in 2023.
And, as always, I did want to thank you for being a part of Casting Across!
Also, use code CASTING right now to save 20% and get free shipping at manscaped.com.
Listen to the episode below, or on your favorite podcast app.
Big picture, generally speaking: 2022 wasn’t that great. Look at the news, the economy, and the overall temperature of our culture. We’re in dire need of a fix. (I do have ideas about that, but such things are for a different forum.)
From a much more narrow perspective, 2022 wasn’t half bad.
I’ve utilized one of those nifty “look at me” social media tools to compile when people looked at me the most this past year. While the above algorithm-produced collage above doesn’t necessarily represent my top nine moments, it does give me some good memories to look back on. So, in nine quick quips I’ll share my 2022 blessings through angling.
Yes: Christmas was yesterday. But I don’t publish on Sundays. And Friday was a podcast day, so that wasn’t an appropriate day for greetings either. So here you have it. One day late:
Merry Christmas from Casting Across.
I do hope that your holiday was filled with all of the things that you desired and more. Family, food, and maybe a little bit of fishing. Most of all, I do hope that you had an opportunity to thoughtfully reflect on why you had a holiday to begin with. Here in an excerpt from my Christmas sermon:
I can say with great joy and with great confidence that the hopeful, inviting message of Christmas is for you because the first angel to appear that night said that He was bringing “good news of great joy which will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10).
The message of the peace through Christ was for shepherds and kings. It was for Jews and Gentiles. It was for those in 1st century Bethlehem and it will be for all time. It is for the rich and the poor, the black and the white, the lovely and the unlovely: there is no chronological, genealogical, or geographical limits to the good news of Jesus Christ. It is for all the people.
And you and me: we are part of all the people.
