My four boys are 10 and under. Since they are boys, and since they are my boys, they are interested in the outdoors. There is an intrinsic desire to see what is over the next hill, under the big log, or beneath the surface of the water. With great vigor they investigate each one as thoroughly as possible. Sometimes they employ trial and error. Sometimes, they imitate. Consequently, each of them has a functional knowledge of how to use a fly rod to pursue what might be swimming just out of sight.

That is what they know about fly fishing: going fly fishing. That, and the excitement of the occasional package that I receive which includes new gear. That, and the guarantee of hot cocoa and a breakfast sandwich on the way to the river. That, and the grown up feeling that comes with being  included in  a streamside conversation between me and another adult.

Thankfully, they don’t scroll through Instagram, read YouTube comment sections, or find their way into the dark recesses of online message boards. They are blissfully unaware of the dark, cynical underbelly that exists among a group of people who like to catch fish using one particular method. (Hopefully that sentence alone  explains their mother’s and my rationale.)

But the bad apples don’t keep me from exposing my boys to the joy of the whole orchard. The pursuit of fish is good. But there is also a lot of good, and a lot of good worth exposing kids to, in the people, places, and things that go into the pursuit of fish. This  is why I took my boys to our local stop of The Fly Fishing Show, and why I’d encourage you to do the same with the children in your life.

I could list all the men and women that took the time to engage my boys. It would be interesting to display all the pictures of them bouncing around the expo hall floor. A story could be told with the expansive layout of stickers, coozies, and pamphlets they brought home. Each of those conversations, moments, and pieces of swag was very good. But there were a handful of interactions that stood out to them, and to me:

One of the first booths to  engage us was The Friends of Lefty Kreh. This new organization, founded after Lefty’s passing in 2018, is dedicated to continue his passion for teaching and promoting fly fishing. “Do you boys tie flies?” They nodded, chewing the Tootsie Rolls they had just been handed. “Do you have your own vise?”  Still chewing, one replied “no, we use our dad’s.” The gentleman handed them a small box. “Here, now you have your own.” The group had been given a large quantity of vises and tools. I saw a number of other kids walking around with the same box. I imagine they, too, were enthused to get home and get tying on their own equipment.

Although they had to wait to use their new tools, they were able to get tying ASAP. As I was talking to a friend, I felt a tug on my sleeve. They were pointing to the Fly Fishers International booths, where vises had been set up for instruction. By the time I got over there, both boys were getting one-on-one help. There is something about hearing something from someone other than your dad. While we have tied countless flies, their attention was (relatively) focused and their movements were much more deliberate.  The woolly buggers looked pretty good, too.

Later, I stopped to talk to some acquaintances at Cross Current Insurance. They had a ring and hook game set up, with a “$1 for 3 tries”  buy-in. The modest fee went into a fishbowl, the overall collection from the weekend going to Casting For Recovery. After their tries, when the boys asked “what’s Casting For Recovery?”, I pointed to their booth and  told them to go find out. The women at the booth were happy to explain the mission of their organization. As survivors, they spoke from the heart. They talked about fishing, but they also shared how fishing brought relationships and hope into their lives. It is the kind of brief, but meaningful interaction that can have an impact that  transcends stickers and coozies.

Not a single fish was caught, but I was appreciative that my boys got some of the very best of the people, places, and things that make fly fishing what it is.