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The fly carried with it a lot of expectations. A lot to ask of a fly I know. Only thing left was to make the casts and take the steps.

I’m sure the guide started me up away from the bucket cause he knows how giddy a newbie can be and he didn’t want me blowing it on the lame warm up casts. I was on the inside of a soft bend that opened up into a wide pool. The near side dropped moderately fast and the far side was broken up by a small downed tree forming a seam along the cutbank. The depth looked consistent across the whole run. You could tell from the surface that there were a few nice sized rocks below that could hide a steelhead or two.

Cast after cast…step after step…I fired that fly to the far bank, mended, and settled into the swing. I felt at any moment it could happen. At this point I must have made three dozen casts. Then, at the sweet spot of the 37th swing I felt it…three deliberate taps. Instead of waiting for the fish to commit and burying the rod low and to the bank, I got anxious and effed up the whole thing……………With so much water left, I figured one of us was walking away a winner. Unfortunately for us, the rest of the day just turned into a beatdown of epic proportions.

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As I read Yi’s account of a Late Fall flyfishing trip with his brother, I am reminded of a trip I posted here this past October. It is universal isn’t it? All the planning, tying, pumping eachother up, but a lingering voice of doubt developed over the years from failures…many disappointments. It is a glimpse of life to want something so bad and to try hard for it, yet walk away empty handed. The euphoria of success on the river is equally powerful. I have found the normal FFer is also burdened by the price of a guide, the price of optimum gear, the prepatory stories to friends and acquaintances re your pending trip and your probable success (were you careless enough to suggest success) and perhaps the getting there. These factors create tension, in advance, and when the day is one big refusal, these factor add to the weight of a long drive home. The nagging feeling stays until the next time. Of course, there will be a next time, on and on. The preparations and chatter long ago eliminate any twitch over a $$$ set up or guide fees. It is all part of the culture. Go it alone or in someone’s drift boat, it is all ‘paying your dues’ for ‘the moment’.