When you're in the "Bargain Cave" income tax bracket, you've got no choice but to make your flyfishing dollars stretch to the elasticity of say, Plastic Man . So I've been slowly trying to cobble together the gear I'll need for my flyfishing experiment from bargain bins, pawn shop finds, clearance racks, garage sales and stealing it from friends (Greg, you'll get that stimulator - or whatever the hell you call it - I "borrowed" from you when you pry it from my cold, dead fly box).
So when I noticed yesterday that the Cabela's 24-piece All-Purpose warmwater fly assortment was featured in the Bargain Cave for twenty-nine bucks, I bought it, along with a cheap bass popper assortment. The good thing is that since I know absolutely dick about the relative quality of house-brand flies versus the Umpquas of the world, and indeed know dick about flies period (they're all fuzzy, right?) I won't know if they suck or not. All I know is they were cheap, and cheap rules my world.
I don't envy (too much, anyway) the rich, globe-trotting anglers or the well-connected fishing writers their high-end flyfishing gear. And that's a hard admission to make for a guy for whom fishing tackle has always been a huge weakness. Maybe I'm getting older and such things just don't seem to matter as much as they used to.
But I do envy them their experiences, the bastards. And one of these days, one of these days, don't know how, when or where, I want to find myself in some exotic sun-drenched location, a saltwater flat, maybe, or perhaps deep in the rainforest, and I want to be able to utter the phrase (shout it, actually) "He's into the backing!" (provided I ever learn how to double-haul, of course).
It's just a cool phrase, and it evokes everything I love about fishing: the adventure and excitement, the power of the fish, the uncertainty, the fear. And if I get the opportunity to someday shout it to the heavens (other than when I practice it in front of the bathroom mirror) I won't give a damn what brand of reel the fish is destroying, just as long as I'm there to watch it.
I once thought I could save money by tying my own flies. It was one of many self-inflicted jokes on myself in the same vein as saving money on turkey loads by handloading. I also learned never to take longer to tie a fly than it takes to lose it. However, that was another lesson soon foundered on the reef of good intentions.
ReplyDeleteI have one word for you....Carp. Haven't you heard, they're the new bonefish (NOT!!). Still, there are some similarities. And hey, you'll get an opportunity to burn your fingers on gel spun backing. Send me your address, I'll loan you my 10 weight! Spring is just around the corner.
ReplyDeleteYou're on the road to those places, it just takes a bastard long time. For instance now that I know you want to go, a friends dad has a place on Tobago we can go pretty much any time...
ReplyDeleteSBW