I can’t recall for certain how many pairs of $5.99 sunglasses I owned in the first years of my fishing life. But I am confident that it was far, far less than would total the price of the fancy pairs I wear these days. And, I think it bears mentioning, these cheap sunglasses were name brand. They were “Bill Dance” sunglasses. Plastic-framed aviators with oversized polarized lenses. Lightweight, functional, and affordable. Ironically fashionable for a teenager in the 1990’s, too.
Somewhere along the line I upgraded. That is consumerism lingo for “spent a lot more money for something a little bit nicer.” And I own that. It is what it is. Or, more accurately, it is what I justify it to be. Philosophy aside, there are some other cheap fly fishing things I clung to for years.
Well after I spent silly amounts of money on fly rods and waders, I was still cruising the streambanks in a pair of $29.95 Hodgman wading boots. Bells and whistles, they had none. Ankle support was also a little lacking. But I’m convinced these densely woven nylon boots were bulletproof. They had metal eyelets that never showed a speck of rust. What did them in was the third sole replacement. I think there was still life in these old soldiers, but in the face of another high-fume glue craft session I took the easy out and bought something “premium.” Premium ended up only applying to price, not longevity.
Given decades of equipment accumulation and flirting with disposable income, I own a lot that can be considered upgraded, premium fly fishing equipment. Still, the cheap stuff lingers in my closet. The old Plano fly boxes hide in the back, waiting for their chance to return to the limelight. Generic hemostats and nippers lay dormant, patient for the day when I lose the silly $100 tools or my kids need something to call their own.
Some cheap stuff even finds its way into my pack for most fishing trips. My Cortland leader wallet probably cost $2.99 when I bought it. It is the flimsiest plastic bifold one could manufacture. But it holds at least ten pre-tied leaders, takes up no space, and – against all odds – hasn’t been lost or ripped after nearly 30 years. Any time I am fishing freshwater, I’ll have it with me. Similarly, I have a little plastic box that I use to hold all my strike indicators. It probably was originally something a panfish lure assortment was packaged in. But it is a perfect utilitarian example of “a place for everything and everything in its place.”
It is important to remember that there is a difference between cheap and inexpensive. The entry level fly reel at $100 is inexpensive. A pair of 75% off, closeout waders that just so happen to be your size is inexpensive. Cheap is flimsy, off-brand, and sometimes just a little weird. Every once in a while, it works just fine. When that happens it is worth hanging on. It is worth using it with pride. It is worth resisting the urge to upgrade and be considered the premium kind of fly fisher, even if only in your own mind.