Eastern Screech Owls, Megascops asio:
I said next time I publish something I’ll have fished. Sunday August 25 I went for stripers, Morone saxatilis—with a black Clouser where I got my best in 2020.1
Black Clousers are a pillar.
You can overthink a Clouser to superstitiously duplicate a fly. Fully painted red dumbbell eyes. Black bucktail, black thread—210 Denier. Green flash, three strands. No whip finish. Two half hitches, Zap-a-Gap.
August 25 was my first 2024 outing. Maybe I missed a fish as I watched an oystercatcher. Maybe I caught a schoolie and realized I hadn’t crimped my barb.
But did you catch anything? Like my big year number, I won’t say. Last year’s focus was getting on the board.2 This year’s is just fishing.
That Tuesday night, August 27, I fished with a new angler. The aim was helping them learn. They kept making sure my expectations were low.
Ritualistic fishing prep can be intimidating, but my expectations weren’t low. Low expectations imply I expected a poor showing.
My reaction to new anglers isn’t Come on. Rather: Commendable, they’re putting forth effort to get through the discomfort of learning. It’s an honor to be a resource. Pressure on them to fish well is less than the pressure on me to be helpful.
We started with their spin rod. I gave them my fly rod to try—my 9 wt Thomas & Thomas Exocett. After brain injury I felt I no longer deserved it, but love that rod. “There are maybe three people I’d trust with it,” I wrote. “I am one of them.” That list has grown but still isn’t long.
It’s not easy to fly fish for the first time—let alone with a 9 wt and intermediate line.
Intermediate lines sink slowly. Good for getting under the waves. A roll cast can get intermediate line up to start casting. Lift the rod, make a D loop, push forward.
A River Runs Through It’s portrayal of fly fishing is imperfect, but the 10 and 2 analogy helps explain a cast.
Casting to demonstrate, my fly got stuck on a rock. I lowered the rod, pointed it where the fly was, pulled. The fly broke off. No hook, I suggested we practice false casting and shooting line.
Their backcast was perfect. Early on, the leader sometimes made a whipping sound as they switched to the forward cast, meaning the loop hadn’t fully extended. Common casting hiccup—short-lived as they learned. Explained here, “You’re most likely getting the 'whipping' sound because you're starting your forward cast before the backcast is finished.”
Going from spin to fly, it’s hard not to treat your forward cast like a cast with a spin rod. There’s no backcast analog, no muscle memory to fight. A forward cast and backcast are the same, just opposite directions. Accelerate to a stop.
There are few feelings comparable to putting a fly rod in the hands of a learner.
Showing somebody the fly cast refreshes my own. Demonstrating, it’s important to cast properly. Hard to explain don’t rush into the forward cast without emphasizing to yourself: DO NOT RUSH INTO YOUR FORWARD CAST.
Fishing Sunday the 25th was important. My grandfather taught me to fish, not how to fish. That is: Don’t not fish. I hadn’t for a while.
Fishing is a valuable way to spend time. The value of time on the water isn’t measured in stripers brought to hand or buckets filled with scup. A hackneyed joke yields insight when you think about it: They call it fishing, not catching.
I like fishing on Sundays. As if fish are a deity and I’m partaking in an act of worship.
Wading belly-deep, water pressing against me, I looked to the stars and listened to the night. There was bioluminescence.
Standing there, I let my mind wander. A religious experience with the “wild God of the world.” The entire day had been. A morning walk lasted into afternoon. Mushrooms, ferns, Osprey, Pandion haliaetus. Water lilies, Nymphaea odorata, spotted Joe-Pye weed, Eutrochium maculatum, a Red-spotted Purple, Limenitis arthemis.
Sunset was 7:26. Hadn’t checked the tide. Didn’t want potential ammo to not go. Tide is a legitimate reason not to fish. It’s often important just to go even if it isn’t perfect.
Before leaving for the water, I put on a fishing playlist. I didn’t have my rod mounts, but got all my Exocett’s nine feet from the backseat and out the passenger window.
I wore a specific woodpecker shirt. I have more than one. The former gets worn when I’d like something to go well.
I’d never worn my waders in my new truck. Made me emotional. I thought of
: “If you’ve ever lost your joy, you know what it is to work to bring yourself back to the table where your joy is sitting waiting for you with a cup of tea.”3Driving with my old fishing playlist made me not sad, not happy, but something. Music playing, rod next to me, I welled up.
There are better songs for getting ready to fish. Sturgill Simpson. One night with my fishing buddy we went through a deep puddle on a dirt road. Engine stopped. We waited. When it finally started, his dash like a Christmas tree, “Fastest Horse in Town” blared. Those were my lifted Tacoma days,4 I drove us next time.
In a not-lifted Ford Ranger I parked at 7:20 to fish a couple hours. I’m not the nightshift angler I was. 10:00 PM, I usually want to be in bed.
Wind was amenable. Best at the back or non-casting shoulder. Osprey, terns, Black-bellied Plovers, American Oystercatchers, but I was there to fish not bird. Birds show where to cast, so I cast to the terns. As it got darker I relied on feel. In the past I’d “dump” a fly line. My focus was dumping as much line as possible.
When you fish with a stripping basket, strip as much line as you want to cast into the basket. You can strip more line as you cast, but stripping a prescribed amount and incrementally adding made sense.
A trick to keep your wrist from breaking is tuck the rod’s butt into a long sleeve.5 My shirt had short sleeves. I kept thinking: do not let that wrist break. I’d cast, see how far and straight it went. If pleased, I’d strip more line and cast. If not, another go.
To cast far I tended to muscle it and cast hard. Nope. That’s a reason female fly fishers are better. Not beholden to machismo’s misguidance. Let the rod do the work. I wasn’t. My shoulder was getting sore.
I disregarded years of efficacy. Can’t plainly overpower newer casting difficulties. You’re not bad, just not as good. Focused on each aspect of the cast, “the simplest, yet most difficult task.” Once I let the rod do the work, my casts improved.
When I got back from fishing, I untied my boots and left them outside. Got out of my waders, left them in a heap.
I hadn’t eaten that day. Before a morning walk, just coffee. When a walk lasts into afternoon, no lunch. Before fishing I superstitiously don’t eat. All that culminated in a day-long fast. After fishing I inhaled a tub of greek yogurt then cooked duck to commemorate the day. An Osprey fished that morning; that evening I myself fished.
I threw the duck fat-side down in a cold pan, turned on the heat. Not to risk duck fat spitting on a shirt—my lucky woodpecker shirt—I ditched mine. When I cook I sometimes listen and sing to Dion. Tended to the duck and sang.
Thought back on the day. Ferns, mushrooms, butterflies, Osprey, fishing. No veggies, no sides, just a hunk of bloody poultry hastily prepared. It was the best I’ve had.
Little did I know, I’d be fishing again in less than 48 hours. I’m going again in an hour. My stomach is empty, I’ve indulged in early-evening caffeine.
Fishing’s different, but if you love something it’s important to do. Even if not the same. It’ll only get better, and people will help along the way.
On a black Clouser, hence fishing one.
Fly fishing as lost joy:
The best Tacomas are 2015 or older. Mine was a 2012. When I took my Ford for an inspection, the mechanic, who knew my Toyota, said the Tacoma’s hassle-free reputation is perhaps undeserved. Mine was always good to me. I loved it. An issue was the upper control arm ball joints, aftermarket because the truck was lifted. A me problem, not Toyota.
Per the article: “the arm is the engine, the wrist is the steering wheel. This pertains to aiming the cast, not powering the cast. Continuing the comparison to driving, if you let your wrist power your cast you will crash…If you are wearing a long sleeve shirt, tuck the reel butt inside your cuff.”
So much of this I did not understand - but very much enjoyed it for that reason. Thank you these insights into your fishing trips.
"If you love something, it's important to do" - oof.
There is a TV show which has attracted an almost cult following in the UK. Mortimer and Whitehouse Gone Fishing. I know nothing about fishing but I bloody love this programme. It is about so much more than fishing (and it's heartwarmingly hilarious) https://youtube.com/watch?v=1myjaoiqcVc&list=PLCOCak7lLVWaeG6DwkIfO85opoW2fw8Gy
Fascinating article, James. I lived in SW Montana the year they filmed A River Runs Through It. Visually, they got the area right, especially along the Gallatin and Yellowstone. Fly fishing is like a religion there, so I appreciate your passion for it. And for your truck. My first vehicle was a 1980 Toyota SR5. I bought it used when I was in college and kept it for years. I still miss it.