A fly rod It's more than just rod, it's a story

My dear friend Sean in Maine

I had just stepped on the first big rock on the trail down to the river. The tungston studs on the bottom of my wading boots creaked as they made contact with the hardened stone. From behind me I heard tires pulling into the gravel parking area. I turned my head and could make out the front of a black Dodge pickup truck. I knew right away who it was. I opened my vest pocket and fished out my fishing license. As I walked around my truck I could hear the door on the Dodge close. I reconized the face, it was one of the local DEC officers. I set my rod on the hood of my truck and walked over to shake his hand. I handed him my license as we chatted. I'd ran into him several times in the past so it was more like running into a friend than a law enforcment officer. We talked about water temperatures, stocking, and just life in general. As he wished me good luck and joked about how he would probably see me again this season he took a look at my fly rod. He said "nice rod." I thanked him and he left. I looked at that rod and though to myself, boy if that rod could talk? My eyes settled on the cork handle for a moment. The once light brown cork was now dirty and worn. Years of sweat, bug spray, and fish slime had permanently stained it from its original color. The reel has a nick in it from the time it slipped out from under my arm and hit a rock while my hands were busy releasing a beautiful little native brookie. I laughed at myself as I looked over the rod tip. It's the only part that had to be replaced so far. At the time it wasn't funny, in fact I was down right angry at myself. A few years ago there had been an amazing spinner fall over the river when I pulled in to one of my favorite spots. It was a huge cloud of insects, covering the river as far as I could see. I couldn't wait to get knee deep just off the edge of my favorite run. In my haste to get fishing I wasn't paying attention and closed the tailgate on the tip and broke it. Thank God I had an extra beater rod in the truck that saved the day. Now I can laugh about the whole thing. I thought to myself yes, it is a nice rod. It may not be the most expensive or the latest and greatest but it's mine and boy if it could talk ohh the stories that it could tell. That's when I realized it's way more than just a rod, it holds a story. It holds my story. It has seen all my good days and bad days. It has seen extreme weather and perfect days. Heck, its seen me cry and its seen me at some of my happiest moments. So why is it that a fly rod is more than just a rod?

First of all choosing a fly rod is more than just walking into a store or shopping online, it reperesents how you fish and what you are fishing for. Every rod is unique from it's length, weight, color, material it''s made of, and even the history of the manufacturer. Just buying a rod tells part of your story. It tells of the types of fish you plan to target, the water you fish, and how you like to connect with your target species. Once you have purchased a rod, that is when its first chapter starts.

Your story continues every time your rod comes out of its case. The excitement that comes along with putting it together and preparing it for the trip ahead. It sits there quietly waiting on your next move. It's with you on every walk to and from the river. It's in hand everytime you slip on a rock and settle in to your first casting location. It is always the first connection you have with a fish. It bounces and pulls as a fish fights. It knows when you have lost a fish even before you have a chance to feel the defeat in your hands. At times I think mine looks at me like a disappointed hunting dog when I miss an easy shot. It hears your laughter and excitement when you finally land one in your net. It feels the sun, rain, wind, and water just like the back of your hand does. It is in your hands when you finally feel the relief of being on the water after a tough day and its by your side when your day just keeps getting better. It has spent countless hours and miles traveling along side you as you explore new locations. Yes, your fly rod holds your story of excitment and defeat, happiness and sorrow. It tells the story of past adventures, your favorite fishing spots, and it knows your secret honey holes.

Recently I had a dear friend gift me a new fly rod. When the JP Ross 5 1/2' 2-3wt S-glass rod touched my hands for the first time, I didn't know what to say. To give a gift like this to somone is very special. A simple thank you isn't enough. As I opened the rod tube for the first time I could immediately smell the trees and water around me. I could feel the current and see its tip bounce as a fish snatched my fly. It was a very emotional moment. I studied it's reel seat and butt. From the fly keeper to each eye the craftmanship was stunning. To say thank you truely isn't enough. Instead I made a promise, a promise to write a new story with it. To share its adventures and tell the story of small streams and backcountry adventures. To test both its and my limits and take proper care of it. To make sure that a rod like this has the story it deserves to have told. So the next time you take your own rod out or purchase a new one remember, it's more than just a rod, it tells a story. So make sure its a story worth telling.