It’s been said that each day spent fishing is not deducted from a man’s life. I don’t know who first uttered those words, but I’d like to thank him. I might even buy him a beer, because that fellow, whoever he was, at least makes us all feel a little better about leaving the wife and kids at home for a day of cold feet and tired arms. I’m not sure how many days I spent alone on the water, my brain laser-focused on the goal of catching the next fish, before I realized that I was alone. Being alone wasn’t a problem though, because that just meant that no one else would have a shot at the fish in front of me. I didn’t have to trade pools back and forth and I didn’t have to share those short-cuts through the trails to the best water. I was a man on a mission, and that mission was always, ALWAYS to catch more fish, bigger fish,…the most fish.
Later though, as I got older and my personal case of fly fishing fever mellowed a bit, I started to notice the other things around me. Birds, animal tracks, and insect life for example…and rocks. Did you know that most rivers are absolutely packed FULL of rocks!? Well, it’s true! Big rocks, little rocks, medium-sized rocks, brown rocks, gray rocks, white rocks – even rocks with trees growing out of them! You just have to look around a bit and remind yourself that everything in fishing isn’t chasing the fish. And so I did, but I realized much more than rocks and birds and otter tracks and such…
You see, when you finally make the seemingly odd discovery that fishing is not just the pursuit of fish, you’ll no doubt find “fishing friends” along the way. Sharing the water with someone you like is always a pleasure, although it’s something that may push the actual act of fishing toward the proverbial back-burner. After leaving behind our salad days, time with friends on the water (or at camp) becomes at least as much of a reason to go fishing as the thought of hooking into your biggest rainbow ever. Let’s face it, most of the time the fishing we do on any given weekend isn’t usually World Class Angling anyway – so it often helps if there’s another reason we go – and it sure doesn’t hurt!
Which brings us to three sun burned, smiling, middle-aged fellows who are scratching their heads, looking sideways at each other, standing in a creek which holds only the smallest trickle of water. A creek that just a couple of years before was full of both water and fish. Between the three of them they caught maybe four fish while fishing all day. Wild, native brookies, none of them were over 12 inches in length. Somehow though, that hardly mattered later, sitting around a roaring fire on a cool spring night when the tall tales began. The size and quantity of the fish that day were forgotten a little more as the meager camp food began to taste like a five-star meal. The moon rose over blooming dogwood trees and towering tulip poplars, and laughter filled the camp. Those three have learned that although fishing is at the core of their adventures, it’s not always about the fishing. Sometimes, it’s just about the friends.