I’m sliding into my 39th year at this fly fishing thing.
Have told folks several times, that I could quit any time.
This statement is often received with a doubtful look.
Who knows how or why it happens, but some of us get it bad.
Hanging out at a river access the other day, I met Gabe.
Before he could get to the water I had sized him up.
He had a look in his eye, a seriousness, going beyond what his eight years of age should allow.
I saw myself too, as a budding fish hero.
When I was about his age, an uncle took me out on the roaring fork river in Colorado.
He and I fished from dawn to dark, then we went to dinner at a five star barbeque rib joint.
I fell asleep in the middle of my plate.
But from then on, I had a solid rep with my fishing family and friends.
After talking with Gabe’s mother a bit, I was reassured.
Even if she didn’t understand this fishing thing, she saw how good it was for him.
She saw that it takes focus, discipline, practice, patience and organization.
All things that many adults have difficulty with……
It may be a strange/harmless pursuit, to those that don’t take it up.
But for those that get the itch to fly fish, it can be a life-long wellspring of wonder, and endless questions.
A life sport, full of life…..