Category: Fly Fishing

River Wisdom Keepers

River Wisdom Keepers

A wisdom keeper with his student

We stood at the edge of Humble Hole, the place where big trout hover suspended in the cool waters of the Davidson River and watch as your fly floats by…dry, nymph it doesn’t really matter. This might frustrate many fly fishers; for me seeing those fat fish relaxed, unspooked by the fly line or movement of the two humans on the bank was beautiful to behold. After all, I’m not there to catch fish—I’m there to witness beauty. And those trout magi are the wise elders. Except that day the other human was also a wise elder in the art of fly fishing.

The largest fish hatchery in NC is located at the Pisgah Center for Wildlife Education. They raise rainbow, brook and brown trout. It’s open to the public every day except Sundays….and worth the visit.

The past two mornings were spent at the Pisgah Center for Wildlife Education near Brevard, North Carolina. I took part in a women’s fly fishing school presented by the North Carolina Wildlife Commission. They have various fly fishing offerings that include a kid’s program, casting classes, fly tying. Our two day school included the basics of fly fishing and casting on day one and fishing with a river wisdom keeper on day two. 

Steve was my mentor for the morning. I learned so much and improved my casting a lot.

I call these volunteers river wisdom keepers because they offer their experience and expertise as fly fishers to those wanting to learn. Veterans of being snubbed by trout, they offer solace to those of us eager to learn how we, too, can be humbled by a rainbow or brown or brook. But they gift us with so much more. After all, fly fishing is creating art while fishing.

It’s good to know what nymphs are living in the place where you are fishing. Steve shows me a nymph that looks like the pheasant tail fly that I’ve caught a lot of fish on in my endeavors thus far.

There are many elements to fly fishing…selection of the fly or flies to use (dry fly, nymph, streamer), tippet length, strike indicator placement, stealth, casting (without catching rhododendron, brush piles, rock edges, submerged sticks, yourself, your guide, your rod/line), water flow, ledges, holes, riffles, seams, shadows. The river wisdom keepers volunteer their time to teach about all of these elements and more.

Too often we fail to take advantage of the wisdom held within individuals who have spent years learning this living art. As I stood beside Steve yesterday, I felt honored to be one of those lucky enough to learn what he had to share. As I glanced upriver and downriver, other mentors were with their students…what a beautiful sight.

Steve was very trusting of me to hold the rod still as he changed flies. Once he even held one fly attached to the line in his mouth to add another one below it on a nymph rig…he did remind me not to move the rod. Trusting soul isn’t he!?!

The North Carolina Wildlife Commission provides these programs free of charge. Yes…free of charge (unbelievable, I know). The programs are paid for with funds generated from fishing license sales for the most part. According to an article in the Citizen Times several years ago, trout anglers gave the state’s economy an estimated $383 million from direct sales on fishing equipment, food, gas, lodging, and guides. That same 2014 study found 3600 jobs were supported by mountain fishers. A 2009 study showed a total impact of trout anglers in North Carolina impacted with $174 million boost to the economy. That’s a significant jump in five years. Considering the Great Smoky Mountain National Park had the highest visitor numbers ever last year, it’s difficult to imagine what economic boosts fly fishing is providing the state present day. A drive along trout creeks and rivers or a hike into even more remote creeks gives evidence to the high demand for fly fishing in our Western North Carolina cold creeks.

Women are the fastest growing demographic among fly fishers and our wildlife commission acknowledges this by providing dedicated classes for women. Because fly fishing has been a male-dominated endeavor, it’s sometimes challenging for women to enter into it. In the four months I’ve been involved with it I’ve visited several shops or outfitters just to see how a woman is welcomed. Some have been amazing and supportive beyond imagination. One was so full of testosterone and loud, vulgar stories I will withhold any support of that particular place or their guides for anyone. In April, when I started practicing art while fishing, I connected with several guide services for instruction (since classes were not happening due to Covid). Every one I ‘interviewed’ was asked how they felt working with women clients. My favorite outfitter, Little River Outfitters, recommended a company (Trout Zone Anglers) and I went with them after emailing the owner and checking out the bios of their guides. I chose one with a wife and two small kids…I mean, he must have patience. It’s important for women to feel supported and respected, especially when entering an arena that has been dominated by men for so long. But the smart outfitters, stores, and guides realize that supporting women means their business will prosper.

I didn’t intend for this writing to meander like one of our mountain creeks so I will bring in the line, so to speak, and simply thank the instructors and the wildlife commission for being so progressive in their putting education for all as a priority and especially to those river wisdom keepers that volunteer their time to spread the love of fly fishing.

Trout are some of the most beautiful fish. I hope to be able to paint abstracts that are inspired by their colors and patterns.
On the Fly…A Way of Being

On the Fly…A Way of Being

It had been a few days since I’d been in the cathedral of water, rocks and trees so I was excited to find myself preparing my fly rod as I stood beside my car parked at the end of the campground. Two boys were riding bikes and obviously just getting to know each other…what grade are you in? second? I’m six years old…look at that tree…oh, yeah, that’s neat.How precious to overhear their conversation as I assembled my rod and reel and rigged it. 

Finally, their curiosity drew them to my staging area. Hey, what kinda fishing pole is that? I replied, It’s a fly rod…a bit different than spin tackle. They took in the answer and then the one that was clearly a fisher said, Oh, yeah. I use spin tackle. That’s a different rod and reel isn’t it? I went on to tell them a little about fly fishing and opened my little fly box to show them the beautiful flies. Oh, wow! Those are cool! Hey, you have a walkie talkie like me, he said. Oh, it’s a satellite messenger that allows me to call for help for me or anyone I meet on the backcountry trails. He said, Oh, yeah it’s sort of the same. I replied, Yes, both allow us to call for help. It’s good that you stay in touch with your parents while you are here.

I suppose my getting everything ready to fish bored them and they eventually sped off on their bikes after saying bye. My heart was smiling as I thought how nice it was to see two children of different races getting acquainted with no prejudice or hate…just curiosity and sharing and exploring the campground in the Smokies.

Warmer weather allowed me to wet wade and the connection to cold water inside my boots was holy water washing my feet. The fly rod is really just an accessory to my wandering and standing in wonder at the beauty of the place. I had two really good strikes and after an hour decided to move on up the creek but first I needed to stop by my car to drop off a wad of fishing line and plastic bottle I found in the creek. While there I decided to change my fly.

As I was finishing up a guy that walked past with his dog as I was in the creek walked over and asked how I was doing. I knew when I saw him on the shore that he was a fly fisher. You can tell by the gleam in the eyes and the keen interest…that spark of knowing how amazing it is to stand in clear, cold water with a fly rod. Once you fall in love with fly fishing…well, you can see it in a person’s soul. And it’s not just the fishing. It’s the rocks and water and trees and the entire ecosystem that calls to us, opens us to beauty that is almost unimaginable.

We stood and talked and shared stories about fish and places we’d fished. Obviously, my list was much shorter since I only began fly fishing in April. His wife and two little girls walked over and we had such a sweet visit. He told me about a different technique he uses, gave me two beautiful little flies and showed me photos of a place four miles up the same trail I love so much. I was so touched by his generosity of spirit to share about his successful fishing technique and gift of flies. 

Immediately after we said our goodbyes, I walked to a favorite deeper pool and caught a sweet little trout who leaped off the hook as I reached out for the line. Actually, this made me very happy because with less handling the fish recovers much quicker. (I use barbless hooks to further reduce injury to the fish). I continued up this favorite little run and ended up having a few more strikes and finally removed the fly and reeled in the line and just sat on a rock in the middle of the creek…for a long time.

That is my favorite way to meditate…feet in the water, seated on a rock, the sound of rushing water providing music along with bird song, green leaves creating a tunnel around the creek. I love diving but this is a good as diving for me except I’m not weightless while fishing.

After spending half an hour or so breathing in oneness with the creek, I stood up to wade back downstream and thanked the life there for our time together. As I arrived at my car another fly fisher was gearing up and asked about the fishing. He and his wife were visiting from out of state and we enjoyed sharing a bit about experience of fly fishing. He said he’d enjoyed it for years and it was so much more than the fish that drew him to wading with fly fishing gear. 

I don’t think of it as a sport because it’s really a way of being.

It was a most unusual morning at the creek. It felt like a celebration of love for the creek and forest and life within them with these beautiful people all brought together by a simple fly rod and reel and a passion for beauty found in Nature. I waved to the family I had chatted with earlier as I drove past their campsite and left with renewed hope for humanity.

Wisdom of the Rock

Wisdom of the Rock

Frustrated to not be attracting any attention from the Trout Magi I decided to switch from nymphs to a dry fly. This is like going from playing with fingerpaints to using oil paints. In the narrow creeks where I wade and fish, there’s not a lot of room for casting and 90% of the time trout don’t go after dry flies but today I had room to cast and figured why not get some practice. 

The casting steadily improved and I was landing the fly right under an overhanging tree branch in the sweet spot. I congratulated myself and on the very next cast my fly caught the tip of the rod and did several backflips around it. I’m quickly learning that ego and fly fishing cannot co-exist. But that wasn’t the real lesson of today’s wading. The real lesson came from a rock in the middle of the creek where I sat and requested wisdom be shared. That’s the real story here.

Yesterday I wrote about fly fishing being the perfect mirror for my life. It dealt with the frustration I have about my life’s work finding traction in the world. This morning I awoke to an amazing dream.

Here’s the dream: I was completing a training curriculum and there was an exam that was a test of physical, mental, emotional and spiritual strength. In preparation for the exam, later that day, I decided to run through all the tests. One was climbing a high bridge that had very narrow ladder rungs. I could look through and see the water far below and had to stop a couple times to regroup because it was very scary; eventually, I was able to move forward and complete the climb. There was a new class coming into the school so our group was finishing and we were advising the new students.

I awoke feeling very moved by the dream and inspired to continue allowing fly fishing to teach me.

Once again I went to my favorite creek and enjoyed the mists hugging the water, the varied shades of summer green and the crystal-clear water rushing over beautiful rocks. I waded a couple of hours and cast using underwater flies but eventually felt a desire to just sit and listen. So much had been revealed yesterday, I wanted to be still and quiet and stop thinking.

I saw a big, moss-free rock in the center of the creek and waded to it. I gently sat down and said aloud, Please share your wisdom with me. I’m really wanting to learn about my life. And so I sat. My feet were on the pebbled bottom, I held my rod—hook stowed—and relaxed. The sound of rushing water was music as was bird song. It took a while but I finally got quiet inside my mind and heard, Stop looking for trout. Hmmm. I’m fishing. Isn’t that what one does when fishing for trout? Look for them?  So I asked for clarification. The reply was the same: Stop looking for trout.

I sat in stillness and allowed the mantra to work within me…Stop looking for trout. Stop looking for trout. Stop looking for trout.

A memory surfaced from fifteen years ago when I lived in Asheville and heard guidance to go into Nature every day when I repeatedly asked what I was to do with my life. I was like…What? I’m in Nature every day already. But that message repeated and has repeated often in the following years. Today, as I sat on the Wisdom Rock, I heard, When you come into Nature you always have an agenda…take photographs, fish, hike to a certain place. When I say Stop Looking for Trout I mean to stop coming into Our presence with your agenda. There are so many layers of wisdom awaiting discovery if humans would simply be still and be quiet and await the inspiration.

Of course that is true. I feel the need to do or produce to help others connect with the amazing beauty and Oneness. And that’s great but it leaves little room for deeper wisdom to be revealed if I would just be quiet. Take the camera but stop and sit a while and be quiet inside and listen to the music of the rocks and trees and water. Take the fly rod but take time to just stop and rest and let go of all agendas. Allow the real gifts to surface in that stillness.

As I contemplated this ‘exchange’ between the rock and me, it felt like a doorway opening into the bottom of the creek that would reveal many mysteries of Nature. And that’s when, after half an hour or so, I decided to finish the morning by switching to a dry fly and casting big. And it was going great until I congratulated myself on the almost amazing casts. But it didn’t matter. Two days in a row I found myself untangling a major mess after feeling like I was making major casting progress. Fly fishing is a sport that teaches humility.

Immediately after I climbed the bank to head down the trail, I heard loud rock music…not like the rock music I had been listening to…but like heavy metal…way up here on the trail. And then a young guy and his dog materialized and he turned the music off. As we passed he asked if I’d caught anything. I wanted to say how much I had learned from Wisdom Rock and that I received really solid guidance but instead I said, Nope…but it’s a glorious day.

Society expects us to catch a fish if we are fishing and if we don’t we are failures. That’s certainly the message I tell myself from old societal programming. But what if success wasn’t measured by how many fish we land, but how much wisdom we accumulated on the wade up the creek. Wouldn’t that be something.

As I walked down the trail, I came upon a dragonfly that appeared to be dancing on the surface of a small stream…dipping her tail over and over again in a bouncing dance. It was so amazing to observe her and see one of the mysteries of the creek revealed. Trout will feed on the larvae but many will survive to become dragonflies. How amazing is that?!?

The first cast this morning at the magic pool ended with me hooking myself in the upper arm in a location I couldn’t reach without taking off my vest and squirming a bit. I think it was a reminder that this journey is all about learning more about myself…each of us is on that journey in our own way. All the answers are already within us. We simply have to be still and listen or in my case, sit on a rock in the middle of a creek.

——

And to add to the incredible teachings coming from Nature through fly fishing, I found another large, black feather. This black feather journey started when I began yoga teacher training and recently has amped up so much that I ask every black bird I see to share its teaching and of course thank it. I even had a recently-fledged juvenile crow hop in front of me a few weeks ago after I caught a big trout. That was the same day a white-tailed doe watched me land that trout. I have entered the realm of Nature Magic. And it’s a very special place in which to find myself.

NOTE: According to Ted Andrews, Nature Speak, crow symbolizes the secret magic of creation. Crow is the smartest of birds, has a complex language. Working with crows, according to Andrews, can help people see how the winds are going to blow in life and how to adjust our flights. His grandfather told him crows are symbolic of luck. Magic is the Medicine of crows. “They are symbols of creation and spiritual strength. They remind us to look for opportunities to create and manifest the magic of life and they are messengers calling to us about the creation and magic that is alive within our world everyday and available to us.

And dragonflies….the eggs eventually develop into a nymph and remain in the nymph form for almost two years before transforming into an adult dragonfly. Andrews wrote that their realm is the realm of light…spending time outside near fresh water will be beneficial…(no kidding). The dragonfly reminds us that change is coming and that we are light and can reflect light in powerful ways. It helps us cut through illusions and allows our own light to shine brightly. “Dragonfly brings the brightness of transformation and the wonder of a colorful new vision.”

The Perfect Mirror

The Perfect Mirror

    

It was one of those days. I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do. The weather was like that, too. It rained overnight and was supposed to rain more but then radar showed showers staying west of us. Rain? No rain? Walk? Fly fish? Yoga? I felt antsy and unsettled after putting out mulch early this morning. 

Yoga finally happened mid-day and it was a nice practice. So…fishing? All day long I wanted to go but was not sure where I wanted to go and if I wanted to use waders or wet wade? After getting irritated with my indecision, I got my gear together, put on shorts to wear under waders and headed to my favorite creek.

The humidity was very high from the overnight rain and it was quite warm. Since the water is cold, there was a beautiful fog hovering over the surface of the water. Walking into the water was like putting on a mantle of mist and entering another realm.

The fish were there and very smart and I wished more than once I was just wading in the creek without the rod, reel and vest. I found myself aggravated but couldn’t really blame the fish since I’d felt that way all day. I felt frustrated that I wasn’t able to do anything but scare the fish (I actually had a trout zoom out from underneath my boot as I was wading). 

The beauty kept pulling me back to myself and out of my head. But my mind kept chattering. I was doing something I love with such passion and it felt as if I was failing miserably because I wasn’t catching fish. Finally, I interrupted the negative thoughts as I sensed a familiar story being mirrored to me. It felt just like the frustration of doing the work I feel called to do and am so passionate about and it not producing a livable income. This has been an issue now for many years and one that grows more troublesome and worrying. 

I’ve been working parttime at a university vaccination clinic and it’s been nice to have a little income to slow the drain on my savings, but the clinic is closing and that is creating an inner disturbance. You see, for many years now I’ve made very little money as I have given myself totally to documenting and sharing beauty and being a voice for our planet. I’ve loved it and feel lucky to have the opportunity to photograph amazing creatures underwater and visit sacred places that have fueled my passion for healing. I’ve published several books with my photography and writing including three children’s books. Yet, with so much effort and money spent to create these works, there has not been a supportive income produced by them. I’m not whining but rather expressing a deep frustration and grief that the work of my soul, the endeavors of my heart are not paying the bills. 

If I get a full-time job just to produce an income, I won’t have enough energy to do the work of my heart. I’ve tried. And quite honestly, I cannot do it. The passion is so strong within me to do the work I feel called to do…and have felt since childhood…it feels like self-betrayal if I don’t do it. I struggle to express the depth of love I feel for our planet and all life here and so want to help bring balance

All of this was going through my mind as I waded back down the creek with mist swirling around me, softening the harshness of my thoughts. I finished fishing after taking note of my improved casting and promptly getting the fly stuck in a tree. After getting it out of said tree, the fly wrapped around the tip of my rod and created a massive tangle. I put the reel end of the ten-foot rod on the creek bank and walked out into the water, pulled my magnifier down from the hat brim and took 15 to 20 minutes to untangle the line which included removing the fly and strike indicator and carefully working with the spider-web thin line. I felt the fishing was done after that exercise in patience. Plus, I’d been wading for over three hours and was ready to head back down the creek and trail. 

So, the mists were swirling and my frustration was tempered by the absolute beauty bombarding me from every direction. I begin to realize that fly fishing was mirroring my life’s work perfectly. It came down to this thread of thought: I feel called to be in Nature and explore the energetic, spiritual, emotional and physical connection with it. Through photography and writing I share my experiences to encourage others to connect and heal and love our planet. But mostly I share these experiences because I cannot not share. I am a visual storyteller. Period. That is my calling.

I also am a yoga instructor, a Reiki practitioner and teacher, an intuitive, a women’s drum circle leader, a musician…I have all these skills that are centered around helping others heal and I haven’t found a way to put it all together to provide an income. So I am, and have been for many years, very frustrated. 

Walking down the trail I allowed the emotions to arise, to come up from the depths and be acknowledged. The sound of rushing water helped them to flow. Foundational understanding resulted: I would fly fish if I never caught another fish because I love the clear water, trees, rocks, green moss and so it is with the work of my heart; I will continue to connect with Nature and open myself to It and learn from it and share what I learn even if nobody reads my stories or I never sell another book or photograph. So deep is the trust I have for my soul leading me true, I am willing to risk everything to follow the Path. It doesn’t conform to the way of the world, but I know it is the right direction.

Patience. Practice. Perseverance. These three qualities are needed to learn the art of fly fishing. They are also a reminder for my Path…I want so much to help in the healing of this world. My gift is to be a bridge between Nature and humanity and use my talents of photography, writing, teaching yoga and energy work and creating music to fulfill my goal. I will continue to persevere through practice and patience. And trust that doors will open so my work can blossom and be a light into a suffering world as well as support me financially.  

Fly fishing—a perfect mirror for my Path, my Life.

UPDATE: the night after I wrote this blog post I had a most amazing dream and the next morning another profound lesson learned from a rock. Check out the follow-up post and the wisdom shared by a rock.


To support the work of my heart and soul you can purchase my books, order photographs, take private yoga classes with me, come for a Reiki session or just donate. I also do graphic design and book layout as well as editing. My self-publishing led to the creation of a workshop for those wanting more info on how to go from a completed manuscript to a finished book. I will work with individuals and groups wanting to self-publish. One of the ways I have given back is to partner with non-profits to support their work through my books by given a set amount to their organization and I’m happy to include this with mentoring in your publication journey.

Wild Trout Are Pouty and Other Lies

Wild Trout Are Pouty and Other Lies

Amazing trout that allowed me to land and release it a couple weeks ago.

I took a break from my hike and stood on the bridge overlooking the creek—gazing into clear waters, wanting to find trout—I said out loud, You trout are pouty little things, aren’t you? Suddenly three huge trout materialized out of the rocks. It’s true, they popped into the creek via a portal or something because there’s no way there were there the entire time I had been searching.

I have read a lot since starting my fly fishing journey and much is written about trout being moody and pouty and difficult creatures. One guy even wrote in his book that they are stupid (I would burn that book if it wasn’t in my Kindle app). I guess they are difficult because they are more intelligent than those of us trying to see them and (gasp) politely ask them to bite a hook.

The three brutes meandered around the rock ledges, nosed the bottom, occasionally grabbed a bite from some insect nymph (which I can only imagine because they are too small to see even when a replica is on the end of my tippet). These ninja trout were queens of stealth and smarts. So of course they get labeled, along with all their kin, as being pouty or snotty or moody. Gosh, as a woman I know what that’s like.

Zoomed-in photo of one of my trout teachers this morning. Notice their color blends perfectly with the rocks.
Another photo of the same trout but zoomed out….these creatures know how to hide.

Wild trout are intelligent, wonderfully amazing creatures that know how to live and survive. Occasionally they might bite a fly we send their way but mostly they will nibble and spit it out in total disgust. Why? Because they are wild and free and let’s face it, much smarter than the two-legged animals stalking them.

After watching yet another trout join their morning breakfasting and apologizing for calling them pouty, I walked on and reflected on the encounter with these beautiful rainbow trout. Women have historically been labeled as moody or pouty when we have refused to bite the hook of domestication. Every wild woman knows what I mean. We can be very attractive to men who think how fun it would be to partner with us until they realize that they will never tame us. Just like the wild trout, we will not submit our wildness to anyone.

The other day I watched a guy beat his fly rod back and forth through the air (yes, use your imagination and giggle at the intended pun) like he was killing the trout before the fly ever touched the water. I actually laughed out loud at this barbaric behavior and thankfully the sound of rushing water muffled my laugh which kept up the illusion of politeness. Good fly fishers know the artistry and grace of a fly rod captained by a wise fly fisher. Man or woman, aggressive casting is cause for eye-rolling and laughter. 

Our culture was founded on the power-over mentality: labeling indigenous cultures as savages so destroying them was acceptable, burning women who were healers so their property could be seized, enslaving people because they wanted free labor. The language carries over to how we describe wild things. 

This morning those beautiful rainbow trout reminded me to honor their intelligence, their wisdom and their wildness and to never, ever give up my wildness to anything that would try to tame me. Many men have told me that women make better fly fishers. I think I understand why that is so just a little better now.