But this morning I came across some pictures from up on the towers, and it lead to me thinking about things that I took away from my short time in that industry. Mostly fly fishing, and a pair of old friends. In the picture I’m looking down past my boots at the featureless landscape four-hundred and fifty some odd feet below. But it wasn’t the height, and it wasn’t the memory of that specific job that made the picture special. It was my boots supporting me up on the narrow, cold steel up in the wind. They’re my wading boots.
- Tags: Adirondack brook trout, adirondacks, bass fishing, Bass on the fly, bluegill on the fly, Brook trout, Brown Trout, catch and release, fish bum, fish stories, fishing gear, fishing lessons, fishing memories, fishing stories, Fly Fishing Adventure, fly fishing lessons, fly gear, learning to fly fish, life experience, life lessons, mental health, one more cast, oriskany creek, small stream fly fishing, tower climber, tower dawg, tower dog, tower hand, tower rigger, trout season, wader review, waders, wading boots, wild brook trout
I’ve never considered myself a sappy, emotional, or sensitive person. As a matter of fact I’m pretty sure I’ve done my best through a lot of my life to be just the opposite of those things. But alone by myself on a river or stream, I’ll admit that the water, and the fish, do bring out those qualities from somewhere inside me from time to time. That’s most likely the healing factor people talk about water having. Us fly anglers just happened to stumble upon the fact that a brightly colored fly line forming loops above the moving water happens to enhance the healing power somehow. I’m not going to try and analyze it. That’s a rabbit hole for another day. On a warm, sunny day like this, I’m happy to simply accept it for what it is, take it for granted, and enjoy it.
- Tags: adirondacks, april first, balance in life, Bass on the fly, bluegill on the fly, body of water, bronzeback, Brook trout, Brown Trout, catch and release, creek, creek chub, epiphanies, fish bum, fish stories, fishing lessons, fishing memories, fishing stories, fly fishing, Fly Fishing Adventure, fly fishing lessons, life experience, life lessons, mending the line, mental health, one more cast, oriskany creek, Reflections of a Fly Rod, shelf ice, simply fish, small stream fly fishing, smallmouth bass
We never got run out, and I have to believe that whoever owned the property knew people fished there all the time by the beaten dirt path from the road down the steep incline leading into the bottom of a deep bowl full of water. I’d never do it today, because I now have a respect for other people’s property and an equal fear of being a father who would have to explain to my children after being picked up at the police station that they should do as I say, not as I do. It seems that I’ve grown responsible, dare I say slightly wiser as I’ve gotten older. All be it with an apparent lack of adventure that can accompany the two if allowed. I’m not saying I’m not adventurous anymore, just that when I choose my adventures, they’re more based on possible outcomes these days than they used to be.
- Tags: balance in life, Bass, bass fishing, Bass on the fly, bronzeback, creek, creek chub, farmpond, fish bum, fishing, fishing lessons, fishing memories, fishing photos, fishing stories, Florida, fly fishing, Fly Fishing Adventure, hair bands, in search of, Largemouth bass, life experience, life lessons, looking back, mental health, no fishing, no trespassing, purposefully lost, small stream fly fishing, smallmouth bass, streamer junkie
I just started this too late. I wish I’d found fly fishing much sooner in life. It could’ve saved me a lot of heart ache. A lot of anger. A lot of depression. What you’ve got to understand is that even though I’ve always fished, there were a great number of years in between being a long haired head banger in high school stricken by the need to hunt bass in farm ponds with spinning rods and these years now, that I find time fleeting and calendars shrinking as I dream of chasing fish to the ends of the earth with a fly rod. The years in between were a distracted time the way I see it. There was always a fishing rod leaning in a corner of a closet or the garage that came out a couple times a year, but there were too many things taking my full attention, leaving almost none for the fish and the places they could be found.
- Tags: adirondacks, anger issues, bass fishing, Bass on the fly, Blugill on the fly, Brook trout, Brown Trout, catch and release, crappie on the fly, fall fly fishing, fish bum, fish stories, fishing gear, fishing memories, fly box, fly fishing, Fly Fishing Adventure, fly fishing lessons, glass is not dead, hot rod, learning to fly fish, life experience, life lessons, looking back, mental health, one more cast, panfish on the fly, purposefully lost, stability, streamer junkie, time to heal, Trout bum, trout power, wild brook trout, zen, zen and the river