Words: Steve Duda 2016-12-16 14:25:06
We know when the next tide is due. We know which way is north. We know which direction the wind blows when storms are building. We can stop the bleeding, fix the blisters and we’ve always got some duct tape and some wet wipes. We can smell a bear or a freshly opened bag of beef jerky from miles away. We know a few good knots and a couple good jokes. We can tell the difference between deer shit and elk shit. We can pitch a tent in the dark and we know a handful of constellations. We can survive on salami sandwiches and know how to identify morels and chanterelles in the woods. Bad weather doesn’t scare us. We can row a boat, handle a knife, a chainsaw and a GPS. We know how to ford a river, build a fire in the rain and brew a fine cup of coffee. We can open a beer with almost any available object. Mostly, we understand and appreciate the awe and wonder of the outdoors and stand in their light with humility, appreciation and the determination to not lose what we have. These are just a few of the lessons flyfishing has taught us. Perhaps they don’t sound like an impressive list of outdoor skills, but they are real. More than anything these days—having a compass, knowing which way the wind blows and finding shelter from a storm—counts for something. Real means we know our place in nature and know how to navigate in it. When there is nothing but the immensity of wilderness, we don’t shirk from it, we drink it in. Moreover, real means we have the common sense to want to protect the places that have given us so much. Real certainly seems in short supply these days and even if we, as fly anglers are seen to dabble in exaggerations, nostalgia and out-and-out lies, the fact of the matter is that behind all the bluster and fable-making beats a heart that craves a few moments of simply sitting on a bank alone, unencumbered, with nothing but everything under our feet. The real lessons we’ve learned from flyfishing give us license to tromp all over that everything—to learn from it, to appreciate it and to protect it. That’s as real as it gets. From our delicious, confusing, hilarious, frustrating jumble of a sport we craft something real and enduring. Whether that something is as simple as the memories we share with friends and family or an endeavor as complex and beautiful as the stories and photographs in this journal, the true things that flyfishing teaches us lead gracefully to an open-eyed realization that the only things that truly matter are the real things. That’s us—you and me—that’s what we do. That’s what we love. That’s what’s real.
©Funny Feelings LLC. View All Articles.
Reel Talk
https://digital.theflyfishjournal.com/articles/reel-talk