Saturday, January 26, 2013
My sinful marriage of fly and spinning gear was born out of the inventive mind of a ten year old. I had a problem and I fixed it with whatever I could find in my parents garage. Fishing isn't a declaration of religion nor of a philosophy to me. It is a word problem. It is a Rubic's Cube. It's Tetris on water. It's the Pythagorean theorem; fly + drift = fish. It is a way to test my problem solving skills and the mettle of my innovative spirit. I spent my youth fishing with conventional tackle because it was what I had access to and a simple tool to unlock a treasure chest of questions I read about in "In-Fisherman". As I matured, I wanted to increase not only the challenge of my quarry, but of the tools I used. Much like why some hunters use bows, I graduated to a fly rod and trout. I picked up a fly rod because casting it is harder. Because it takes more time, energy, patience, and knowledge. Because it takes a certain amount of insanity. I am still a mutt down deep. I will never win Westminster. But I will fly fish. I am a troutologist.