The past revisited

Tomorrow I’m off to fish a small stocked still-water with a very old and dear friend.  Now, I know what your thinking but you’re wrong – I’m not about to abandon the rivers and revert to chasing stockies around a pond.  This is an all too rare opportunity to have a day out with a friend and the venue is immaterial.

It’s been a while since I last did anything like this and in preparation I have rummaged around in the darker corners of my fishing room and found a couple of old fly boxes – the ones I used when I used to do this sort of thing regularly.  Oh my god!  What a sight?  I had almost forgotten the monstrosities I used to tie on without shame.  Huge, garish creations that should never be viewed in daylight without the benefit of good dark Polaroid glasses – still, I seem to remember catching a fair few fish with them so perhaps I’m becoming a snob in my old age.  I’ve put together a when all else fails box which I’ll keep securely hidden.  I’ll stick to my traditional imitative patterns in a dogged display of fly-box bigotry until conditions or [more likely] lack of aptitude force me to open Pandora’s box & try with a dog nobbler or cat’s whisker – whatever.

The interesting thing here is how my attitude has changed over the years.  I can’t remember it happening and, in all honesty I can see no justification for it.  I’ve been kidding myself that I have been fishing imitations of aquatic fauna, but thinking about it, almost all flies are embellished in some way, be it silver tinsel ribbing or a gold head which I’m sure is meant to provoke an aggressive rather than hunger driven response from trout.

Perhaps we’re all lure fishermen in denial.  Now there’s a can of worms!

About Adrian

Dreaming the dream and praying for a lottery win that will allow me to live it. View all posts by Adrian

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