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Doc's Rambeling - Why Do You Fish?


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I enjoy reading the various posts on here. I often sneak on during a work day and it makes the work day easier to get through. Perhaps at times people here type with their hearts instead of their minds. Though they may become heated over ideals the respect and enjoyment of the sport comes through.

 

You know I think it depends on what you are trying to achieve by angling. What does it do for you. To some it allows an escape, to others it becomes a lifestyle. Still others are competitive. All are good and solid reasons to explore waters. In my younger days It was about numbers of trout. I was blessed to grow up in BC with magnificent trouting steelhead and salmon opportunities for the fly rod. On some of the mountain lakes and streams of my youth we caught and released numbers of trout that where wonderful. Growing up in generations of a fly fishing and outdoor family added depth and breath to my life. The seasons where marked by life on field and stream, angling, hunting and the tiers bench.

 

Now it's about the quality of the experience. I love Spey rods on big rivers because it makes sense for me. Less strain on a body getting older. They are big river rods. It's been great learning new casts and styles. That said I also love the small streams and lakes that I frequent with lighter fly rods. Succumbing often to the call of my old classic fiberglass rods of my youth. Many times I hear my bamboo rods calling to me to pair them with perhaps a classic Hardy or Pflueger of days gone by. The reels wanting to be lined with old silk or plastic classic lines. Then I drift into the past, while enjoying the the sport form a different angle.

 

Although I truly enjoy the company of others and often seek out other fishers for conversation on the water, trading flies and lies. And like teaching others to tie a pattern I mostly fish alone. Walking along a steam or lake I never am by myself. I am accompanied by those before me. Those friends and family at who's knee I learned and who's company I enjoyed. They fish with me still on waters that I know and those that I can explore anew.

 

Why do I fly fish? Why do I tie flies? Why do I peel my body out of a warm bed at four in the morning to pull on cold waders and often feel the brush of frost on my skin. Is it old habit. The need to prove myself. No, no, non of these. It's about seeing a spiders web covered with dew. The haunting sound of flowing water and my boots swishing on the grass. The call of a loon or song of birds. The look of mist on water. But especially getting a glimpse, be it ever so brief of of one of natures miracles. A finned beauty of any size be it rainbow brown or a number of other trout, that nature has blessed to be a living jewel. If you look hard you can see through your inner child's eyes.

 

But if no interest is payed to a drifting dry or swung spey or wet fly, there is never disappointment. Time on waters I look on as healing experience away from the needs of working, business and other stresses. Why do I fish, I think of it at times. I often approach waters and do not fish for a while. Watching insects and fish and planning how to approach a particular stretch or pool. Or closing my eyes and listening and upon occasion sitting with sketch pad making sense of nature.

 

Why do I fish? My wife knows why I fish, so do my sons. They nod in understanding that I need time afield or at the vice. It's out of love.

 

Why do you fish?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Wow! Your last few posts have been great Doc, I can only hope that if I ever run into you on the water I happen to have a bottle of scotch handy so that I may pour you one and hear some of your stories in person.

 

As for me I fish to get away. I seek out solitude and thrive on the humbling feeling that can only come from disappearing alone along some high gradient mountain stream. I like to hear nothing besides the rush of the water, perhaps a woodpecker knocking on trees. I find it grounds me to be out in nature and realizing how huge the world around us really is and how truly small each of us are in the grand scheme of things. I am truly humbled every time I step out into the bush and I've yet to find anything else in my life that provides me with the same feeling. I spend a great deal of time outside doing various activities in all seasons but nothing gives me that sense of amazement that comes from discovering a new stretch of water or watching a Heron cruise a river bed or see the sun glisten off a glassy glide.

Of course the fish play a big part and in the moment it is really all I can focus on but at the end of the day whether it's by a fire or in my truck driving home I get hit by everything else that happened around me and I feel calm.

In a nutshell I flyfish because it takes me away from the rat race and affords me much needed mental clarity.

 

GREAT post Doc, thanks for sharing. I look forward to looking back with the same fondness and eloquence you exhibit.

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Now those are great posts. Doc that should be sent in some where. sums it up very well.

 

 

Why I fish, thats probably hard to explain,

 

I fish for the solitude of a stream to my self feeling that I am the only one left.

For the companionship, sharing a fish the my kids, an old friend or a new one.

 

The feeling when everthing comes together and I feel the tug on the end of my line, and fish in my hand.

For when everything falls apart and I get to see the monster swim away.

 

I fish for the intricate challenge of tieing, selecting casting and drifting the perfect fly, to a fish, I also Fish for the simpicity of it all.

 

I fish to hide from others and to be found again.

 

 

or

 

I am just a big kid that likes to playing the water

 

Not sure yet I'll let ya know

 

Teck

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Why do I fish?

 

I can't put it as eloquently as SD, but to me the feel of that sudden tug at the end of the line jolts me into another world where the stresses of work, family and everyday life instantly disappear and the only thing that matters is this epic battle, and who wins it. Or seeing a well presented dry fly suddenly disappear beneath the river's surface, you feel for a few moments, until the next drift goes by without a second look, masterful.

 

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Guest KnottyGirl

For me, it's pretty much a medley of what everyone else has said. Not only is it the challenge and the adventure, but it's the peace and serenity. I fish to forget... when I'm on the water, it seems that nothing else matters, I don't think about anything but the sound of the water rushing past my feet, the fantastic scenery, and the anticipation of that little (or sometimes big) tug at the end of my line. Few things in life bring me such gratification.

 

Awesome thread Doc... thank you!

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Guest Sundancefisher

Main reason I fish is because it is very relaxing and I forget all my worries.

 

Secondary reason is so that I can show where monger should cast and then I get to see fish caught.

 

Third reason is cause I can not knit worth a dam. Nor can I play the piano. Nor can I stand housework.

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great thread. You pretty much summed up how I feel about it. I go for the sights, smells, sounds... of the outdoors. the fish just do not matter at all anymore. nothing beats walking through crisp crunching leaves... with the damp smell of autumn in the air... and fog on the river as it greats you with it's gentle babbling as you hum the tune from a river runs through it...

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I'm pretty sure it's in my blood. Started going with my dad when I was 4 or 5, first fish was a fish called a croaker (think perch) on a zebco. I could cast a open faced reel (Ambasseduer 5000, still my favorite all time reel) when I was 7 or 8. I was pretty spoiled when I was young fishing the saltwater bays in southern Louisiana and Texas. Thought 100 fish days were the norm (my personal best was 80 some odd, my brother around the same amount, dad probably with 120 or so when I was 15). We fished almost exclusively with gold spoons and fake plastic shrimp in those days and life was GOOD. We probably made 30-40 trips per year, at least, and I don't think I ever said no to a trip (though that could be selective memory.) At the time, I had no idea how good a fisherman my father really was. I just thought everyone caught fish like that.

 

As I got older and moved away from home, other things got in the way and I didn't fish much for 10 yrs or so. It wasn't until I moved back to Texas after I got married that I really started going again. While I still caught fish, I was starting to realize that this game wasn't as easy as I thought. Most of my trips were by myself, but every once in awhile I would make the 1 hr drive back to my parents house and go with my dad. We didn't catch them like we had when I was a kid, but we still did pretty good. Much better than I did on my own and I was becoming acutely aware how much I had to learn to be able to find more fish on my own. I lived in Texas that time for just over a year, but every trip with my dad I tried to soak up information like a sponge. One thing I learned was that if the primary target isn't cooperating, there is no shame in going after lesser species. For dad, and now me I guess, it is more about the fight than anything.

 

Well, kids started to come and my ability to fish diminished for a few years. That and my on and off love affair with golf got in the way a bit. We lived in Canada, in Grande Prairie and Edmonton for around 12 yrs, and I did get a chance to catch some rainbows, cutties, brookies, pike, and walleye in the North country. I had much more fun with the trout (though the walleye sure eat good). I was mostly using ultralight spinning gear. And while the fight was fun, it wasn't completely addicting. In those days a 3 iron at the flag from 210 yds felt way better than any fish.

 

Well, we moved back to Texas with the family in 1998. I lived much closer to my parents than I had the last time I was in Texas and immediately bought a little boat with my dad and brother. And I started to take my sons (my older son was as addicted as I had been as a kid, my younger son was, and still is a challenge to involve), which was great. But watching my dad with my boys was the best. It was hard sometimes to tell which ones were the kids, and who was the grandpa. He got as much joy as they did, and again, I learned that it didn't make any difference what the species was. If it pulled hard, it was worth catching.

 

Life continued to evolve, my saltwater skills evolved with them. I loved fishing with topwater baits to watch the "blowups" when a big sow trout slammed the lure. The feel of a big red slamming a mirrolure as I peeled it rapidly through the water can stop my heart. And if artificial baits are not working, putting on a live shrimp or baitfish wasn't below me either. They fight good that way too. I had learned that I really didn't care much how I caught them. Why should I limit the amount of fun I can have by worrying about methodology? Like father like son I guess.

 

After 6 yrs fishing with my dad and sons in Texas, we got transferred back to Canada, here in Calgary this time. I didn't fish much for the first year except a little in my neighborhood lake. After a year, I took a client on a float trip and decided I would try a fly rod. I hooked a 16" or so rainbow on a streamer on my second cast I think. And that was that. For a person who loves the feeling of fighting a fish, the fly rod is IT. Nothing even comes close. So I decided to learn to fish flowing water and learn to fly fish at the same time. That was two years ago. To say I am addicted would be a massive understatement. I still have the same sensibilities as before in that I don't care how I catch them (though instead of lures or live bait it's nymphs, dries or streamers), or really what I catch (even a sucker is better than nothing), I can't see myself ever putting down the fly rod, at least in fresh water. While the fly rod has SERIOUS shortcomings in saltwater due to casting distance, I still start my saltwater trips with the "skinny gay pole" as my friends call it back home.

 

Why do I fish? Well, it seems it's in my blood. I love to fight fish, always have and always will. I fly fish because it's the funnest way to fight fish. I'd like to say it's because I want to commune with nature, relieve stress, etc. But it would be a lie. All that stuff is great, but I'm addicted to the fight.

 

 

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Good thread.

I never really equated the fishing I did as a kid with the flyfishing I do now but I suppose it's been a part of my life since I was a child as well.

I grew up sitting in a 12 foot aluminum with an uncle fishing for pike and walleye, usually trolling and getting a "hit" every 2 seconds (snagging weeds) and also having to clean and ice anything I wanted to keep. Or in my grandfathers sweet ice fishing hut with wire worms and maggots, he's usually let me have a "smash" (rum&coke) to help me keep warm:). I also paid my dues at stocked ponds in rural Alberta with my dad which was where I got my first taste of trout.

As a youth I was in scouts and had some great fishing adventures as well as getting some passed down knowledge of the outdoors in general. Later on, once I had become a punk ass kid me and a buddy wood cruise the Trunk road between Edson and Nordegg and fish relentlessly all summer long with light spinning rods and small spinners. We'd keep a fish each (where permitted) for dinner and had a lot of fun camping and exploring new rivers and random camp spots. I really enjoyed these trips but as we got older and girls and jobs came along I spent much less time fishing. My buddy did a lot of traveling and in between trips we'd get out from time to time and sit in a canoe and fish along the weeds in the evening for pike with heavy tackle at random lakes (wherever there was no wind) but seldom got out to fish moving water at all.

One summer while he was gone on an extended trip I decided to go fishing by myself for the first time. I'd decided to fish the north sask. SW of Edmonton as well as the middle section of the Pembina. I caught a few Goldeye in the sask. and the Pembina was a bust but on the way home I decided to stop in at this pothole which as it turned out had this great casting platform. There was the usual talent with all kinds of assorted bait and pickerel rigs, I was tossing and reeling these little spinners and whatnot and having no luck whatsoever. People were catching fish and I started getting frustrated, to top it off it was starting to sprinkle and the dock started emptying. As a last resort, and I'm not sure what I was thinking, I tied on this huge double snell rapala. A perch colored rattlin' bastard, and I hucked that thing 70' and let sink. Wouldn't you know it I got a good hit, hard set and off it went. As it was peeling line off my reel I was starting to feel a tad embarrassed feeling the remaining die hards watching my rod tip jerk. It took what felt like 5 mins. to land the sucker although I'm sure it was not quite that long and by this time I had the technical support team standing beside me on the dock. It taped out at 26" and was quite heavy, a hawg to be sure. I decided to take it home and while I really enjoyed it on the barbecue in foil I got this huge wave of guilt combined with this incredible lust for catching trout, that was the last fish I've killed (intentionally). I still crave a walleye fillet from time to time but at this point could not be bothered to chase them on any of the lakes around here. (sundance- those perch sound mighty tasty!)

So, after that I got the idea to revisit my old stomping grounds around Edson, this time armed with a fly rod. I went to the fishing hole and got one of the boys to set me up- 200 bucks all in, he took me in the parking lot and showed me how to cast, I walked out with: rod and reel, a handful of assorted flies, a net, and a copy of Barry Mitchell's book. I went to a park and practiced casting until it got dark, went home, packed my *hit and took off at 6:00 the next morning. I fished a great section of the Pembina and got into brookies and rockies right away on caddis and stimmies. These fish were caught at close range with very little technique but it sure gave me the confidence to pursue trout on the fly.

Next trip was unexplored waters NE this time past Whitecourt. I got into some small tribs of tribs of the Athabasca and had the time of my fishing life on grayling and wherever you could find a good fast run or deep pocket, which are rare on those mud bottom creeks, you could be sure you could find a scrappy rainbow. I cut my teeth flyfishing in those areas mainly because it was closer than the foothills rivers and frankly the grayling are so eager I could not resist them. Gradually I worked my way down the trunk road and got my taste of the excellent flyfishing to be had on the upper reaches of the better known rivers around Nordegg as well as having my ass handed to me desperately flogging my rod at every fishy looking spot for 3 days or more swearing to never friggen' step foot there again. By this time it was too late, all I could think about was watching that little piece of thread and hair get sucked under by some hungry trout and thankfully as time went on I was able to teach myself the basics and had fair to good luck most of the time.

 

As a side note: there were two books that without I'm sure I'd not still be flyfishing today. Barry"s book, which is a must have for anyone looking to have a good time with a fly rod in this province. I've since had it signed by the man himself and have had the pleasure of shootin' the *hit with him a couple of times he's a great guy and after running in to him a few times over the years he's told me fishing story or two and I've picked up what he was putting down if you know what I mean ;). I suppose he'd be the leading authority on my favorite river and it's a good feeling to get the respect from some of these salty dogs who've put into the sport to ensure these fishing stories continue to be told.

The other is Clive's book which was literally my tutorial on casting, reading water, technique and even gear and line selection. I look forward to meeting you one day and when I make it down to that end of the FTR I'll make sure to have a couple fine cigars just in case you might have a story or two.

 

Can't really say enough about either book.....so if I could offer any advice to anyone new to the sport it would be to pick up a copy of each.

 

Anyway, I try to visit some place new every season as well as explore new sections of the faves and am quite sure it will be a life long adventure. I've already started the inevitable evolution of the flyfisher and it almost seems it means something different to me every year. I've yet to start tying my own flies as I have several other fanatical outdoor pursuits that I like to invest in but that is clearly the next step in my flyfishing journey.

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Wow. Some great stories and some great replys. Though, I'm not as eloquent as the majority of you, I only took up fly fishing this year. I used to spin cast when I was kid with the old man. Used to go to Cross Lake every May long weekend, until it was fished out and turned into a slough. Fish were diseased and not worth catching anymore. When I was a kid, you could walk along the dock, and see the fish swimming around the piers. By the time I was a teenager, it was a mess. Sad really, some of my best vacations were at that lake.

 

When I moved to Calgary, one of the first things I wanted to do was learn how to fly fish. Even before I moved here I had heard of how legendary the Bow was for fly fishing. I never knew where to go to learn. Didn't know where the fly shops were. Thankfully, my wife did do the research and signed me up for casting lessons through Country Pleasures. Great couple of guys. Learned LOTS, casted a few rods and litterally fell in love with it that day. I think my wife regrets it. lol

 

Now, I look forward to every moment I can get on the water. Weather it be a crisp fall morning, or a beautiful summer evening. The sound of the water, the smell of the air and the anticipation of that next big one. Watching the fish rise to your flly, taking it and then the fight. I love everything about fly fishing so far and can't wait to enjoy my first FULL season in the spring.

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