Reminded by my dad that it's never too late to pick up a fly rod.
dad
trip notes
Hokkaido...
On my best day with my most familiar rod, I can make a nice cast, but even a minor adjustment to my setup can quickly lead to frustration on the water. A little too much tippet or a leader not quite stiff enough for my fly will reveal my worst habits. In Japan, using heavy split shot, shooting heads, and spey rods had me looking pretty rough at times.
Even after catching some incredible fish, I continued to pepper Ok-san, my guide, with specific questions about my casting stroke. It became clear to him that I was interested in more than just success on the water. "Do you want to be a beautiful caster?" It seemed like a strange question to me. Who would say no? For the first time, I had to consider the idea that casting beautifully was actually a choice.
I could see Ok-san take a mental note after I responded yes to his question, a moment of pause almost. Maybe my interest in casting beautifully was a surprise to him since my collapsing loops seemed to indicate the opposite, but from what I later learned about him, I realized that he saw almost every decision as a fly fisher as a personal choice, an opportunity to express preference. Aspiring to cast a certain way did not make me a better or worse angler to him; it was just a way for him to learn a little bit more about me as a person.
More than anything else from my last two years of fly fishing, I have found meaning in this chance to discover my most intimate preferences.
the god fish
the swing..
gang
got my mojo back
Progress report..
Back to the office tomorrow.. It was nice while it lasted :)