The tao of fly fishing

How do we get to the heart of the sport?
iceland fly fishing
Evening arrives on a river in Iceland (photo: Chad Shmukler).

If you spend much time around anglers, you’ll hear the following questions on a regular basis.

“Catch any?”
“Fish here much?”
“What did you get him on?”
“What rod are you using?”

They’re valid questions, all of them, but they invariably steer us towards small talk and away from the heart of things.

“Catch any?” is the angling equivalent of “how’s life treating you?” It’s safe, and non-confrontational, and it shows your interest in another angler without getting too personal or inquisitive. Yet at the same time, both the person asking the question and the person answering it understand that it’s about as superficial a query as you’ll find.

There’s a place for small talk of course, just like there’s a place for a nod and a smile. Courtesy remains a gift and given the noticeable lack of good manners in modern American culture, it’s not something we can, or should, take for granted. Still, it won’t get you closer to the heart of our sport.

The real question for fly fishers starts with a “W.”

“Why?”

Why do I fish? What am I looking for? What do I hope to get from my time on the water?

Many anglers — and especially many long-time fly fishers — tend to dismiss the “why.” It’s obvious, they’ll say, or it’s unimportant, or it’s complicated, or it’s not worth thinking about, or it’s no one else’s business.

The “why,” though, is your roadmap to the heart of fly fishing. It becomes your tao; your path. It offers a way forward for anyone willing to choose a moment of introspection, and then a moment of honestly.

If I’m fishing with someone else — as opposed to fishing near someone, or next to someone — it helps to know why they’re out on the water. Is it happenstance? Are they seeking companionship? Validation? Personal growth? Relaxation? Excitement? Knowledge?

Perhaps they’re hoping to solve a puzzle. Or they’re drawn to water. Or beauty. Or nature. Or solitude. Or a challenge. Or maybe they just want to have fun.

Heck, they could even be fixated on catching fish.

There are a ton of reasons why people turn to fly fishing, and those reasons — which may or may not be mutually exclusive — can change with time. But the clearer we are about what pulls us to the river on any particular day, the easier it is to get the most out of our experience.

“Know thyself.”

Those words go back to the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, and to philosophers like Plato and Socrates. They’re linked, as well, to a line from William Shakespeare’s play Hamlet.

“To thine own heart be true.”

When we fish by rote, without taking the time to consider what we want from our angling, we limit ourselves dramatically. But when we fish intentionally, with an eye towards whatever brings us the most excitement, or joy, or satisfaction, or knowledge, or fun, then we increase the odds that we’ll be truly happy at the end of the day. That’s just the way it works.

So the next time you’re heading out with your fly rod, take a moment to ask yourself a few simple questions. What are you in the mood for today? What will put the biggest smile on your face? What do you want from your fishing? Be honest, and be specific, and then focus on what will make you happy. There are no guarantees, of course, but it’s a lot easier to hit the bullseye when you know what it looks like.

Comments

What do you want from your fishing?

Too many seem to want to maximize their nymphing efficiency in order to increase their fish counts.

Too many seem to want to trigger a reaction strike from a 24+ by throwing over-sized streamers (when they'd be better of fishing Rapalas).

Too few seem to want the challenge of finding and fooling a single, large, surface feeding trout with a dry fly.

Rick B

What authority do you have to say there are "too many" of any one type of angler as long as they are playing within the rules?

You may have missed the most important line in the article - “To thine own heart be true.” Do what pleases you and don't case negativity upon the joy of others.

Isn't life far too short for the kind of attitude you portray in that comment?

Hope you find peace.

Good point Todd! Well written, too.

Everyone wants to over complicate fly fishing. I go to catch fish. The ultimate is to stalk a trophy sized wild trout. They know every inch of their domain and have been approached by countless anglers over their 10-13 yrs.
If that wasn’t my goal, I wouldn’t take a fly rod.

Also people get emotional and call it spiritual, when it’s not.
Emotional is a “feeling”. Spiritual is a connection with the Almighty & creator of the universe. Not a connection with the creation!

Jim Parks

Todd, I really enjoyed this article. The philosophy is akin to my own. I ask myself these two questions prior to committing myself to a day of fishing:
1). Do I have the right mindset to fish today? Somedays I'm feeling obligated to go, or maybe occupied with other thoughts, or perhaps feeling impatient, and that's the worst!
2). Am I open to learning something new today? My best days are when I learn things, but i need to be in the mood to make a lot of fly changes, different depths in the water column and basically try different approaches.
But in any case, I fundamentally agree with you Todd. It is great to know what you expect to get out of your fishing each day. Like the yoga teachers say at the beginning of class - "Set your intention for the day"

There must be at least a score of Zen parables about suffering and enlightenment. Saturday the temps were south of thirty degrees and wading in the Bitterroot River Oh Baby was it cold. Not sure which felt clumsier, fingers or toes, and the sublime joy of seeing a trout rise was only going to be found on the computer at home. It is on just such an occasion that the importance of fishing with intentionality slaps you in the face when you ask yourself - "What the hell am I doing out here?!" But then you breath in and savor cold, crisp mountain air carrying a hint of the snow falling on the alpine peaks a couple of miles in the distance, and feel your muscles adjusting, flexing and balancing against the current and tumbling stones, and the hope a fish eats the fly surges through your emotional ether, and the answer is manifest. I imagine the heart of the matter is personal and situational. Ask a fly fisher why they fish when in the midst of a stonefly hatch with trout feeding with the abandon reserved for bacchanal orgies and the answer might be different than on the aforementioned winter day. Regardless, thank you Todd for reminding us to fish - and for that matter live - with intention.

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