Welcome to the club
I found this years ago on the FishBC message board, thought it was funny.
Posted on the fishBC message board by horneblower
Be careful, if you're contemplating taking up fly-fishing. This fly-fishing thing can get hold of you and take over your life. Look at me. Just a few years ago I was a relatively normal human being. A couple of times a year, me and a buddy would stock up on beer and rum, pile into my old camper, and hit a lake in the Merritt or Kamloops area. We'd troll flatfish or wedding bands or worms behind a gang troll and have a great time. Some times, we caught fish; sometimes we didn't, but as long as the beer and rum held out, who cared? We bonked whatever we caught, and never gave it any thought -- if anyone had suggested throwing them back, I would have just stared at him--why catch them and then put them back? Talk about stupid ideas.
Then one day a guy offered me his fly rod to take with me on the annual so-called "fishing weekend with the boys." I took it without much thought, as fishing wasn't a priority with any of us on these occasions, if you know what I mean. So I'm out on the lake next day and I think I might as well give the fly a try. So I start trolling around with a fly I bought at the lodge, feeling like this was really silly--the rod and line made no drag in the water whatsoever--you could hardly feel anything at all. To me, you knew if you were really fishing if you at least felt the action of the flatfish, or, more often, the pumping of the gang troll. Sometimes, you didn't know if you had a fish on or not, but at least you knew you were really FISHING.
Then all of a sudden a fish hits. He's a really little trout, but he shoots out of the water, then starts running back and forth, and I can feel every move he makes. It's like I'm totally connected to him. I'd never felt anything like it. I'd never realized how much energy trout had for their size, or how hard they would fight to get away. I get him in, and he's a beautiful little thing, still trying to jump and run, and the next thing I know, I let him go. I can't really explain why I did that, and I also didn't realize at the time that my life was changed, permanently.
A short while later, I thought I'd just head into the local fly shop and maybe pick up some cheap fly stuff for next year's trip with the boys. I asked the guy behind the counter what a half-decent rod would cost and he said about two hundred and fifty dollars. (This was about seven years ago.) I thought, "Does this guy think I'm stupid? I mean, I obviously knew nothing about fly-fishing, and I know there are some seriously obsessed people out there who might pay that kind of money for--a fishing rod, but I'm not one of them. So I walked out with the cheapest rod and reel in the place, (although I did get a good fly line, because everybody said I should) but still feeling really annoyed that I'd spent way more than I'd expected planned to.
It was all downhill after that. I realized I needed something to fish out of, so I was back shortly and bought a float tube. Of course, I needed the waders and fins to go with it. I bought the neoprenes because they were "cheap", but I was still dropping hundreds more dollars. Then, before I realized it, I was going for fly-tying every Friday night. Every time they taught us a new fly, I had to buy the materials, and I never got out of the shop without dropping at least forty or fifty bucks. Next thing I know, I've got a vise, and all I can think about, when I'm not fishing, is tying. Hundreds soon turned into thousands.
One fly line wasn't enough--any fool could see that--at the very least, I needed a sinking line, too. And just an extra spool wouldn't do--much more quick, efficient and sensible to fish two setups at once and cover more water. I mean, if I was investing all this money, why not maximize my return on it? But now, with two rods, reels and lines, I realized that I wasn't covering much water in a tube--I needed faster transportation to capitalize on my time spent fishing, which was now every weekend. (Well, I was starting to sneak away after work on weekdays, too.)
So I bought an Outcast kickboat, (brand new in the store, only $400 or so) which was much faster, and got me higher out of the water for easier casting. (By now I was paying for casting lessons.) But once I got able to cast a little, I realized what a noodle my first rod was, so I had to get one with some backbone. I got a good deal on a Thomas and Thomas, but I couldn't use a good rod with an el cheapo reel, so I bought a nice reel to go with it--hundreds and hundreds more. By this time I was no longer satisfied with fishing the lower mainland, so I was heading up to the interior every weekend. Sure, I was using a lot of gas, but what's the point having all this stuff if you're not going to use it, right? But it gets hot up there, and those neoprenes were killing me, so I really needed some breathables. Hundreds more. But the Bares I bought leaked, and I figured, "Life's too short to have a wet butt", so I bought some Simms. Sure, they were another $500, but if you're going to have a hobby, you might as well enjoy it to the max, right?
But the problem with any waders is you can only stay out so many hours without coming ashore to pee. Now THAT is really a waste of time, especially if you've driven all the way to Tunkwa just to catch the bomber hatch. What I needed was a conventional boat, so I could just pee into a bucket and not miss a second's fishing. Problem was, that as well as the boat, I would need a new vehicle to carry it. By this time I was seriously into chironomiding, and my friends were chironomiders (I'd lost all my old friends because all I could talk about was fishing) and my new buddies all had solid boats, and it seemed only right that I should have one, too. (Besides, you have to be mobile on Tunkwa-- the fish move.) So I bought a used 12 foot Springbok and a new Johnson for power. (After all, I could keep my kickboat, fins and waders, etc. for hike-ins.) Besides, the best chironomiding can be had in the summer, so I might just as well stay up there for July and August--why go home at all? So what I needed now was a trailer to stay in. So I bought a new Tacoma (you have to have a new, reliable 4X4 for going into the bush--that's just common sense, right?) and a 22 foot trailer to stay in.
But with a spouse and pets, that trailer wasn't big enough, so I needed a bigger one, with more space to store my equipment, too. (By this time I had seven rods, reels and lines, including three Sages, an Islander, a Hardy, and three Lamsons.) So I bought a 29 foot trailer, but then I needed a new truck to tow it, so I purchased a new Tundra. Things went great for a while, but I found that towards the end of August the solar panels on the trailer couldn't keep the batteries charged, and I wasn't about to go without my music and movies (there's no reason for camping to be uncivilized, right?) so I realized I needed a generator. Cheap ones are noisy; the camper who wants to keep his fishing buddies needs to consider their feelings, and that meant a Honda EU2000--which can be had for about that amount. (Speaking of "fishing buddies", I'd realized long ago that being out on the water without a fish finder was like fishing naked (not that I have anything against that technique!) so I'd bought those, too, along with every other conceivable fishing-related device.
Then I got to thinking that life was too short to fish only summers and weekends--why not full time? I figured I could retire early as long as my wife kept working. Then it occurred to me that retirement is a once-in-lifetime occasion, and needs to be celebrated properly. What better way than with a new boat? (Since I'd started fly-fishing, I'd quit exercising, and my health had gone to pot, and I could no longer lift the 12-foot boat on and off the truck. I'd seen other fishing-obsessed people ruin their health and die prematurely, so I thought I'd better get out while I could.) So I pulled the pin, and ordered a Spring Creek pram, "the most stable small boat on the planet." It was only another couple of thousand, and I mean, safety first, right?
So I'm retired, camped up at Logan Lake for the season, fishing every day out of my new boat, with my new electric motor (I mean, we have to consider the environment, right?) and it occurs to me that it's silly to just stay up here--why don't I live here? So I sold my place on the coast, and bought a place near Merritt, and now I can fish a different lake every day and never leave home! (I've even told my wife she can retire, as long as she works part-time!)
The only thing that bothers me right now is that I have to go to Vancouver tomorrow, and that means I'll miss a whole day's fishing. But at least I get to pick up the new case I ordered to go with the new Sage I just bought--I mean, you don't put a good rod in a cheap case, right?
If you're thinking of taking up fly-fishing...
Do yourself a favour, Stick with flatfish.
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