Turning Points

[wade]

I was browsing through my cyberfile of good times and came upon this story that happened on Fall River a couple years ago. When it happened I knew it was a perception change in how I viewed fishing.


This is when I realized I had grown
in my ability to maintain my composure and shrug it off when a biggun gets away.
I'd caught a couple 12 inchers, just enough to keep me fishing. I hadn't seen anything
over 13 inches, and I was looking hard. At one point I decided to try a sparkle pupa
dropper, tied to the leech I'd been using so I could double my chances of success. Since the Sparkle Pupa was very small, I used a 5X tippet
to tie it onto the leech. The leech was on a 3X tippet, so I didn't have to worry about setting the hook gently if a biggun got on. Anyway, I
felt a hard bite, and I set the hook like I had been doing. But this time there was
alot more resistance on the other end, the biggun nearly doubling my pole over.But I
was determined to continue my upward hookset until my rodtip was up high, biggun or
not. Kinda dumb. The fish broke the surface, allowing me to verify his size, and
shortly after, broke the 5X tippet with the Sparkle Pupa firmly embedded in his jaw
(undoubtedly). My response was to say in a middle tone, " Holy Moly!" I didn't scream
"**** !' and stomp or splash the water like I did when I lost a Salmon or Steelhead
not too long ago, or consider breaking my rod over my knee and heaving it into the
water. I wasn't even mad. I was merely surprised that there existed a biggun, and
pleased that he'd chosen to consume my offering. I of course flicked a few more flies
at him in hopes of hooking him again, not expecting to, and I didn't. But I did wade
as close as I could to his hangout to have a look. Sure enough, he was waiting under
the log I knew was his territory. There is almost always a biggun there, if a biggun
is around. This one was a good 16"
and fat- considerably bigger than any other habitant of that stretch of stream that day.

Since that day I have never gotten angry when I lost a fish.

Does anybody else recollect an experience that at the time, they knew was a turning point?

Kevin

I think mine may have come earlier this year or last fall. Although I have never been real competitive I liked to catch as much fish as the next guy. I began to pay attention to what lengths people will go to to catch fish...especially salmon and how it in some cases borders on some kind of blood lust type of thing. If you ever want to see people at their absolute worst just check out any number of rivers during the fall salmon runs and even during the spring runs. I began thinking "Is this worth it?" I began taking evening trips to the Wilson and Kilchis for cutthroat trout and reaffirmed to my self why I love fly fishing so much. I still go out occasionally for salmon with a few friends but for me it all boils down to enjoyment and making memories.
It's not about filling my freezer with salmon fillets which is just fine for some and I have salmon in my freezer too. It's about enjoying what I am doing and getting the most out of my fishing experience.
I love seeing my son catch steelhead because he has only been doing it a few years and each fish is a new memory for us both.
Years down the road when he is telling his kids about fishing maybe he'll start a few of his stories with "There was this time when me and your grandpa were fishing......." :smile:

[ 09-24-2003, 09:41 PM: Message edited by: Stew ]

[greenbuttskunk]

I too reached that same turning point about 10 years ago. I don't recall it being any one fish in particular. I just recall reaching a point where I had been blessed to catch just about everything there is to catch. From that point on, it was more about the experience of being out there, feeling the water around me, smelling the air, and getting a fish to take my offering. Taking the fly kinda became the prize, not wether
the fish was landed. I've had countless
moments where large fish rocket out of the water, make blistering runs, or find a way to wrap themselves around logs. Many times, these beauties
say goodbye before I can lay a wet hand on them.
That's ok. For me, it's the pursuit of the fish, and the experience and knowlege I've aquired to put a hand-tied fly in just the right spot. Guess it's like the perfect approach shot that lands right next to the pin in golf, it's poetic.
When that whiley fish is fooled enough to eat it, THAT'S what it's all about for me. Loosing a fish now, I take a deep breath, release it, and a sweet peaceful little smile comes over my face. Many of my best memories now come from those fish I've fooled and lost, not those I've landed.
GBS

[lilnorthfork]

Not a turning point but a reaffirmation... a few weeks ago a the mouth of the D. Hooked a sh - my first hookup on the D and only the 3rd of my career (the other two succesfully to hand and released). As I was playing the fish, Stew walked up behind me and said softly "don't worry if it gets off, there are a lot more out there". In the split second I turned to look at him, the fish came unbuttoned. I did not even think about poking him in the nose with my rod until much later.
lnf

Originally posted by lilnorthfork:
Not a turning point but a reaffirmation... a few weeks ago a the mouth of the D. Hooked a sh - my first hookup on the D and only the 3rd of my career (the other two succesfully to hand and released). As I was playing the fish, Stew walked up behind me and said softly "don't worry if it gets off, there are a lot more out there". In the split second I turned to look at him, the fish came unbuttoned. I did not even think about poking him in the nose with my rod until much later.

lnf

<font size="2" face="verdana,arial,helvetica">John after careful analysis and investigation we have determined that that fish was not a steelhead at all but in all probability a ....................SUCKER!!!!