The Benefits Of A Brisk Walk And a Trusty Fly Rod

I know I’m guilty of fidopromorphism (that means imparting doglike characteristics to inanimate objects), but I am struck by the similarities between fly rods and good gun dogs.

Time spent in the presence of either is easily counted among the most pleasant hours kept in memory. Neither of them is capable of offering contradiction or correction when you recount those hours to a friend with a little exaggeration for the sake of emphasis.

Both of them are patient with your mistakes. A missed shot or a bad cast will have no bearing on their performance on the next flush or the next rise. If you do your part they’ll always hold up their end of the deal. If you don’t, the moment will pass with as little trace as a ripple on water.

Some of the best moments with either are the quiet ones. Moments when your hand is resting on a warm shoulder or your fingers are curled around a smooth cork grip and you are watching the light fade from a day that you spent doing nothing important – but something very essential.

Neither of them should ever be allowed to suffer from neglect. Both of them will benefit immensely from regular exercise. And so will you.

And here I have to confess to a failing. There’s a rod standing cased in the corner that hasn’t been out for a walk in quite some time.

It’s the shortest of all the rods in the pack, only 5 feet, 6 inches in length. It has what I regard as an exemplary pedigree. R. L. King of Bluff City crafted it in one piece from a culm of bamboo.
This particular rod hasn’t suffered neglect because of any failing on its part. Its inactivity really comes from a perfect aptitude for certain circumstances.

It’s the perfect small stream rod. With a light 3-weight line and a short leader, it is scaled to perfection for the high, wild streams where brook trout are found. If I do my part it will deliver a fly tight under the laurel in very close quarters.
It carries light and nimble through the maze of trees and brush when we trace along a trail to the next ‘likely spot’.

If the trout are willing to do their part it will set a hook cleanly. It is delicate enough to carry to my hand and my memory every moment of the fight. It is stout enough to take all the rough and tumble of a clumsy day in a rough place.
Bamboo is like that. Never mistake its beauty for weakness.

Two years of drought have kept the high, wild streams on a precarious edge. This year is looking better even though a glance now out the window reveals a fringe of icicles along the roofline and blanket of snow on the porch railing. All of that will melt. 
If the good Lord is willing and the creeks do rise, we’ll go for a walk very soon.