Initiation on the Creek

Since having my first experience fly fishing I was ready to get back on the water. Admittedly, when it finally happened today, it was like learning to ride a bike without training wheels. It started out a bit shaky. 

The first time out I hired a guide from Trout Zone Anglers. Travis gave me a wonderful introduction to fly fishing and ever since then I’ve wanted to get out on the water again. So, ten days after that day, I found myself putting on my waders just to warm up a bit. 

It was 51 degrees and I wouldn’t normally don the waders before preparing the rod, reel and fly…oh, wait. There isn’t really a normal yet since this was only my second time on the water with a fly rod/reel. Anyway…the waders really helped with the early-morning chill. I assembled the ten foot rod…not the 8.5 foot rod that was suggested I initially purchase by various outfitters and even Orvis….but the ten foot rod that’s perfect for fishing the streams of the national park. (Note: I think fly fishing is really a financial whitewater hole that sucks money into it). 

After assembling the rod, I got out the reel to attach it. Hmmmm. It was a different attachment than the other rod but it should work. Everyone said it would work and I could use the same reel I purchased with the 8.5 foot rod. I tried every way, looked at it upside down, upright and eventually just gave up, disassembled the rod, put it in the case, took off the boots and waders and then drove back to my home. It’s only 25 minutes. 

Part of me said, this is ridiculous. What was I thinking? But another part reminded me how much fun I had fishing with a guide. If you get bucked off a horse, get right back on and ride that sucker again.

So, I got the shorter rod at home and drove back to the creek…another 25 minutes. Thus far I had an hour and 15 minutes invested in just driving. And when I got back I didn’t put on the waders as I was a bit heated by then.

After assembling the shorter rod, I heard that little voice inside that is always wise, There’s a way for that reel to work on the ten foot rod. So….I put on my glasses (if all else fails) and saw exactly what I needed to see and quickly attached the reel to the base section of the longer rod. Quite a way to start the day.

After taking the short rod apart and stowing it back into its case, I got the longer rod set up, line threaded and the strike indicator (come on…it’s a bobber for goodness sake) attached and a nymph fly. I didn’t want to fish with two flys…two hooks…which is the traditional method of ‘nymphing.’ I’m a newbie and it takes enough effort to keep one hook out of my skin and the trees. Then I put on the waders and boots and hat and polarized sunglasses, sling with tippet, flys, nippers, hemostats, fishing license, grabbed the wading staff, locked the car, stowed the key in a dry pocket and walked to the creek.

The creek was crystal clear, the flow just about perfect. I waded into the water using the staff. After my first fly fishing experience I invested in a staff and fell in love with it while doing underwater photography a few days ago. It made such a difference.

I settled into the first place to cast. And it was good…I mean the casting was really good…landing right where I aimed. WOW! How exciting! After several casts and a couple of strikes, I looked to my right to pick up the staff where I expected it to be tethered and it wasn’t there. WHAT?!!!

I quickly reeled in the line, secured the hook and ran under the big culvert hoping the pricey stick floated there and got stuck. Nope. Then I climbed the bank and ran downstream hoping to find it. Nope. I was ready, after losing the costly wading staff, to pack up and go home. But then I heard that inner voice again, So, you give up now and just walk away? This is make-or-break time. Are you committed to fly fishing? Or will you give it up because of a little setback?

I climbed out of the creek, where I had been watching for the staff, and looked at the blue sky through bright green leaves. I’m all in, I said. Let’s go fish.

I walked back to my original entry point, stripped out a bit of line and started casting. It was great! I was in the woods, standing in a creek, casting and it felt really good. I heard Julie Andrews start singing, Getting to know you, getting to know all about you. I laughed. Yep, that’s about right. Not only getting to know the creek and fish but getting to know myself a little better. (I’m not kidding…that song really did pop into my mind…and I only knew those few lyrics).

I carefully walked up the creek without the aid of the staff. I had to really pay attention to where I wanted to go and look for a safe path without the aid of that darn metal stick. I think it really made me connect deeper with the rocks and flowing water. I had several strikes and only one really interesting tangle…with the line and rod wrapped around itself. But I got it undone and kept fishing. Upstream. It was fun, especially engaging a lively trout that gave a quick fight before it slapped its tail at the surface and spit out the hook. And then danced a bit on the surface as if to say…I am so much smarter than you human. I will teach you if you will pay attention. My reply, Yes, Jedi Trout. I am willing to learn.

After two hours I started to get hungry and kept fishing another thirty minutes and then remembered the staff. If I wanted to spot for it downstream, I’d better make haste as it was getting busy around the campground where I was fishing.

I thanked the fish and water and trees, climbed out of the water and walked back to the car to stow all the gear…except for the waders. I had hope that maybe that darn expensive stick would present itself.

The place where I lost it is where I began. I followed the flow of water, guessed which way it went and started walking downstream. But before I began any of that I asked the spirit of the creek to please give me the staff back with the promise that I would always respect her little finned children. 

At one point I had to climb the bank and continue the downstream hunt from shore. I almost walked past an entry point but again heard the inner voice, The webbing on the strap is orange. Look for that instead of the black staff. I walked down to creek and caught a flash of orange. There, waiting at the edge of the water was the Simms wading staff. I laughed out loud and said a big thank you! as I lifted it out of the water. The original knot tie from the factory had come loose and I hadn’t noticed. 

It made quite a journey downstream. And just as I got back to my car people started walking where I found it…chances are it would be in someone else’s possession now if I hadn’t found it when I did. 

Driving home I had time to reflect on the morning. It sure felt like some sort of initiation with a series of tests I had to pass. I felt like a kid trying to ride a bike without training wheels for the first time. I was a bit wobbly. I made mistakes. I lost stuff. I missed little grooves that hold reels. It was sketchy. But as I was fishing I kept hearing the guide’s voice in my head…along with Julie Andrews….good cast….set the hook…look for the calm water…good cast…don’t try to go too fast wading…rod tip up…keep your wrist straight…aim right there…follow the fly as it floats downstream.

The creek and trout and I were….

“Getting to know you; Getting to know all about you; Getting to like you; Getting to hope you like me…”

Even with all the quirkiness of the morning, I had a blast. As I wrote in my first blog about fly fishing, it’s so much more than the fish. Today I passed the tests given and sit here reflecting on the day and am already awaiting the next time I go back out on the creek to learn from the master teachers…the trout.