Even though it has been so long since my last post, there isn’t any great revelation nor any breaking news to catch up on, as the routine continues as it has for several years now. I don’t wax verbose about the serenity anymore, although it still exists and I still appreciate it just as much; since I retired I have not had to deal with the stresses of business and my outings are less cathartic than they used to be, because I no longer need the escape.
Last season I found a nice little pond that offered large brown trout and I caught my share of them on numerous visits, and still had the time to visit different parts of some favourite rivers as well as rivers I’d never fished before, and I am still hunting for new areas to travel to, just for a change of scenery, and for the challenge of new waters.
Today I’m in the process of preparing for the upcoming season, still several weeks away. I have tied all the flies that I will need for the months ahead, and have conditioned my equipment, but I had finished both of those tasks by the end of October last year, and haven’t done much since. Until the arrival of my new rod this week.
It is technically a new rod, but in truth it is the same model that I’ve used on many outing over the last few seasons. Last year, on the last day of the season, I had been on the water for a few hours and stopped for lunch. After lunch I considered going home, as I had at least a two hour drive ahead of me, and since I had such a good year, thought I might just call it a day. Then, of course, I convinced myself to go back to the water, as it was the last day of the season and I wanted to get as much time out as possible.
As I approached the water, my foot caught on a tree root and I fell forward. I landed fine, old athletic abilities resurfaced out of nowhere and I did a quick roll and was on my feet immediately, but I broke the tip of my rod.
Luckily, I make wise purchases, and all the rods I buy come with a lifetime warranty. In this case, this wasn’t a warranty issue, as it was clearly a traumatic impact event, lol. Traumatic for me at least. I was dismayed for at least 10 minutes, by which time I had strung another rod and walked back to the water, more carefully this time.
To make a long story short, I finished the day and put away my things when I got home. The broken rod stayed in the basement until last week, when I called the manufacturer and let them know I’d be returning it for repair. This is the beauty of buying a high quality rod, since even though this was my fault, the company offers a repair service for a nominal fee. Calling it a repair isn’t quite accurate though, as they don’t “fix” the rod, instead they take and keep the broken rod, and then get a brand new one and ship it back to you.
Thus, for a mere $50 I have now received a brand new 5 weight trout rod from Redington. When it arrived, it kindled a fire in me and I began prepping for the season ahead. I am of course looking forward to my precious little brown trout pond, but I’ve also looked at different streams that hold potential, many of them quite nearby, and this is all part of the evolution of a fly fisherman.
When I started fishing, I liked to explore new waters, but was drawn back to familiar rivers where I had a good chance of success. I wanted the tangible proof that I was doing something right, said proof being the catch and release of fat little fish. Now, I’m being drawn to the exploration of new places, both big and small, and the possibilities that lie therein. I will definitely still frequent my old familiar haunts, but will spend more days finding new challenges, and reading new waters, applying what I’ve learned over the last few years. I think this is important, as it breathes new life into the process, preventing it from becoming an exercise in complacency and routine. As long as there are new rivers, there will always be new reasons to be excited about each new season.
Come Fly With Me 