Letters to Smed – “The Purist”

Well Smed ole buddy I may have lost my mind but I’m going to try it again. Yep, I was rummaging through my fishing stuff and came across my old box of flies. I know what you’re thinking; I said I would never pick up a fly rod again after my last adventure, but maybe I’ll take some lessons this time…it sure brings back memories though:

"And the next time we meet, I hope it's at my house for Sunday dinner."

“Sorry! I suppose you are wondering why I'm sitting on a branch in this old apple tree speaking in such a fashion to a big, mean, snorting bull. Let me turn back the clock a few weeks to a rainy Saturday afternoon when I had nothing to do but relax on my favourite chair, in front of the TV. While randomly switching channels, a habit that is always sure to drive my dear wife crazy, I happened upon a new fishing show dedicated to the art of fly-fishing.

What luck, I thought to myself "The first in a series for the beginning fly fisherman:" an art that always seemed to intimidating to try in the past.

Being an educational TV 'junkie' I jumped at the chance to learn anything new about the fine art of wetting a line. I should explain that I have been a dedicated worm drowner and minnow killer for years, but now Jerkwater Jim, the worlds foremost authority on fly-fishing, or so the station claimed, was ready to show me the error of my ways and teach me how to fish like a true fishing 'purist'.

I watched religiously, for a total of three hours over several Saturday afternoons. This soon became a bigger irritant to my wife than switching channels. Jim taught me how to pick the proper type of line to use for all the various kinds of fishing I would now be able to experience. I learned how to select the proper fly rod and reel. Most important of all I discovered how to choose the perfect fly to 'match the hatch'. I took notes, watched every movement and cast, with the enthusiasm of a young boy anticipating his first fishing trip.

"Look how the line floats through the air, landing with the grace and gentleness of a willow leaf on a quiet mill pond” said Jim. "Believe it or not you will be casting just as effortlessly after a few practice casts."

"Yes!" I thought to myself, "I will cast with all the grace of a bird gently, dipping to taste the cool water. This is what fishing was really meant to be. "

I was already beginning to feel disdain towards those less fortunate fishermen who had to resort to drowning worms. I had become a “purist”!

Catch ya later Smed…I’m off to the tackle shop.

©Lloyd Fridenburg, 2008 – all rights reserved

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