Wednesday, June 15th, 2011
You never know what you are going to get when you ask the Sexyloops Board for advice, but today I threw caution to the wind and asked for advice on a FP topic. Before there was a single reply I mentally committed to using the very first suggestion (unless it was from Paul, since that would have been potentially dangerous).
Crackaig came up with this suggestion, and I think it’s a good one.
“Turn your fishing coat pockets or bag out - something in there will inspire you.”
The front, right pocket of my fishing pack is where I keep the flybox that I expect to be using most on a given day. It’s also typically the pocket that gets accessed the most - not only every time I change flies, but other times as well, out of convenience. Consequently, the pocket has become a sort of back eddy, collecting the odd and discarded bits and pieces of my fishing life. And just like in a river’s back eddy, the bottom of that pocket is where all the most interesting items seem to settle out.
I clean out the bottom of that pocket a few times each year typically, but I couldn’t remember the last time I did it before I did it today.
Out on the table. And it turns out that there was a veritable archeological site down in there.
(Right now Lars is either cussing me for bad scientific technique, or praising me for discovering a new site previously unknown to science in the bottom of his favorite gear item – a fishing bag.)
The contents of the pocket tell the story of my last several months on the river. Lots of bent out or damaged octopus hooks from my winter steelhead flies, the result of snagging bottom while dredging flies all winter. A couple are bent out because of fish that I didn’t deserve to land on last month’s trip up north. Those, along with a few pebbles that I grabbed from a gravel bar on one of the most beautiful river’s I’ve ever seen really brought a smile to my face. I forgot that I picked those up. I found another fly that I recall had to be extracted from my finger after a bit of a blunder on my part. I also found a few scraps of electrical tape discarded after holding my Spey rods together for a few days. And there was evidence of what some might consider less pure days - a couple of demolished indicators, leftover splitshot, globugs, and a couple of beads. Those may have also brought a smile to my face.
There were also a few signs of the changing season. On the side of the flybox that fell out, in my own handwriting, was the word BASS. I found a couple of beat up buggers and other warmwater tasties as well, along with a trashed leader with bits of slime on the knots that I had to replace courtesy of an especially ornery cyprinid.
With my pack cleaned out, I guess the only way to look is forward. Until next time…
Take Care and Fish On,
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