Tuesday, May 25, 2010

The Allure of Flyfishing

I tell people that I love flyfishing. They look at me warily. Especially the city slickers who have never seen a fish out of market. Perish the thought.

Many would be surprised to know that it isn't all about the fish. It's about the solitude. Waking up at the crack of dawn to the haunting cry of the resident loon echoing across glass-calm water. Mist dances  across its smooth surface, broken only by a trout jumping, then gone in an instant leaving only the telltale rings that spread in perfect diminishing circles until the surface is glass once again.

Grab the gear and get out on the water. Six a.m. and no coffee on board. Up late the night before sharing drinks and stories around a crackling fire. Wide awake now, no coffee necessary. Slide the pontoon boat into the lake and head out. Flippers and oars. Silence. No roaring gas motors. No smell. Rig the line and let out a long lead. Wait for the telltale tug and set the hook. A good trout will play it out for several minutes. Leaping. Diving. Running into you faster that you can reel in and slacking the line, then turning hard and kicking away in an effort to break the line and disappoint. Get it alongside and bring it up with the net. Remove the hook and thank it for the good fight before sending it on its way.

The camera always close at hand, I usually spend more time shooting than fishing. These trips are a feast for my visual senses, so far removed from the everyday back home. Flora, fauna, landscape, clouds, reflections.

Attached is a favorite of a dragonfly. Eight or ten of them danced around me for well over an hour. They are truly amazing creatures, with faces that have genuine character. They fascinated me, and my Nikon D3 with the 70-200 f2.8 rose to the occasion and captured a memory I will forever cherish.

For those who ask me why I fish.....