Pitons in Your Fishing Vest
If youíve been fly fishing for a number of years, itís likely youíve hit a plateau. Youíve achieved competency in the sport, understand the habits of your quarry and its forage, and can expect to catch at least a few fish whenever you visit the water. And with regard to water, you likely have a few set places that you return to time and again, and because of their familiarity, theyíre possibly the only places you return to, time and again.
In other words, youíve become hitched to the same olí same olí. Itís a comfortable and usually secure, nice place to be. Doing the same olí same olí is pretty much how many of us spend our lives.
But the unchanging perspective from the plateaus that we achieve can cause us to miss things that are really interesting. Cause us to forget the fact that thereís more for us to climb, that wonder and opportunity extend all around us, and that exploring these opportunities is itself engaging and lets us feel truly alive. Contrary to the old aphorism about cats, itís a lack of curiosity that kills.
If youíve been finding yourself losing interest in fly fishing or at times bored by it, then shift how you approach the sport. Focus on a different technique, such as wet flies or streamers, if youíre a dry-fly or nymphing aficionado. Explore those sections of stream or those still waters you usually pass by, that youíve assumed are fishless, or too difficult, too strange. Visit an unknown water, or fish for species new to you. (California has a plethora of waters and species.) Get uncomfortable, off balance. Try.
This past summer, I fished a trashed creek near a Taco Bell and a couple of gas stations beside an interstate. The sort of water we all ignore. The rainbow I brought to hand was as colorful, as beautiful, as any trout found in far prettier places. It reminded me again of why I fish. And, grinning, I layed out another cast, and then another. . . .
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