Voices from the River: Confessions of a fly fisherman

As a child we fished. My brothers and our friends did a lot of things together but primarily we fished. Each one of us allocated our allowance money to purchase what we needed for our next suburban adventure. A tackle box. A new reel and rod. A better selection of Rooster Tails. Not much else mattered in those days. 

Call it simplicity at its finest. 

Fast forward 25 years and some things never change. We all know life gets more complicated as we age, but at the core there are any number of experiences that still draw most back to a simpler time. 

My younger brother glances over and catches me smiling and laughing like a four-year-old who just said the word "butt" for the first time. From the deck of my brother’s neatly carpeted bass boat I toss a brightly colored crank bait near a downed tree in the water and manage to bring in a largemouth bass from the depths of the murky green water. 

That’s the moment I realized that I’ve been living in a rivers-only fly-fishing bubble for too long. As the saying goes it’s nobody’s fault but mine and a habit I intend to change. From here on out I plan to expand my fishing horizons. A change in which I’m certain will ultimately make me a better angler and steward of a larger cross section of water. 

DSCF2953.jpg

Maybe I’m too excited about this simple confession. That’s fine. Most folks who read this probably have similar experiences. I’m curious about yours. Has there been something outside of your very own normal that has changed the way you fish or regard a certain piece of river, creek or lake? 

Let’s hear them. 

— Josh Duplechian