Congress passed, (yes, it does occasionally), the Coinage Act in April 1792 and established the first national mint in Philadelphia, our first Capitol, (no, it was not Mar-a-logo). Which brings me to my point, fly fishing. My lifetime subscription magazine from the Federation of Fly Fishers came today and after looking at the pictures of new killer fly patterns, I became confused. Formed in 1964 the FFF is almost as old as I am. In the early days when as a member, officer, noted fly tier and fishing instructor, we had special fly patterns that were carefully handed down from earlier generations. They were ‘killers’ in that they were tried and proven over many year by actual fly fishers.
It struck me that those patterns looked an awful lot like actual bugs and good enough for me to eat. They worked because they imitated the prey food much sought by game fish. Okay, you had to make them wiggle, dive or float like a natural insect but after 30 or 40 years of fly fishing that came naturally. The ‘new’ flies look a lot like the older ones but now they have tinsel, special hair from the underarm of an elephant and marvelous wings of unnatural but lifelike material. So, flies have changed. Back to the basic patterns that always worked but now they are gaudier. I noticed the ads for flies, and they seem to fall into two groups. Those that are designed to catch fish and those that are designed to catch fly fishers.
Having taken 31 species of fish on flies in Montana (#31 – Speckled Dace) I can attest to the fact they work. It takes patience, skill, study and concentration all of which gives a person a ‘high’ when the fish finally takes the fake. Early on I used and still use barbless hooks so I could release a fish essentially unharmed. Sure, sometimes a few were kept for frying over a campfire but mostly and frankly if you were a good fly fisher more than enough fish came to your creel so releasing some back into the outdoors was logical. “See you next time” I would sometimes say, but over the years I notice many of them have gotten smaller and fewer.
Like many outdoor recreational opportunities, fly fishing was fun. It started out that way and until it became a contest for largest fish, most fish, most exotic fish or fish in most remote places, it was fun. Fishing contests sprung up everywhere from the ocean to lakes, rivers and streams. Soon the fun part was hard to find as you maneuvered your boat among zillions of others trying to enjoy the fun of yesteryear. Even wading was getting crowded as honey holes became discovered and fights broke out. Guides would hire ‘clients’ to sit on good spots until paying customers could be brought in for limited or no competition.
Aaaah, to be outdoors along the our shared border with Mexico. Continuous sunshine, birds, animals and people flitting back and forth through tear gas. And more gas, as Trump held another rally for his ego and diminishing supporters. This time something was different. Fewer Government workers, probably those considered non-essential except as hostages for thoughtless blackmail. Look, there goes a bigger rabbit!
Okay, boss said too expensive to print photos in color unless taken by him. Will try to get better ones and might switch back to black and white. Boss and I did listen to Trump’s prime time ego rally that even supporters say fell flat. Several takeaways between bouts of throwing up were (1) lying is still lying, (33 untruths per minute? A new record?), while trying to read a teleprompter, (2) as a white supremacist he insensitively lumped Government employees in with other folks he considers undesirable (3) he exhibited the unshakable ability to ignore reality while destroying the livelihoods of millions of real American citizens.
P.S. Annie Rowe has an upcoming birthday, (29?), on January 18.
