By Spencer Durrant-Monday, September 27, 2021
Anglers tend to personify the objects we are obsessed with to such an extent that I often suspect that we are still five-year-olds with the most active imagination. Nevertheless, the assertion that fly rods are more than tools should not be too unacceptable. For a group of people who often affirm that trout can perform elaborate deductive reasoning, I think the fly fishing rod is more than the sum of their parts.
The best fishing rod is not a true friend. They are more like confidants. They observe every mistake, observe your success, and stand by in the middle days when we spend most of our time on the water. If we live in a world where flying rods can speak, they will be a stoic partner who will only speak out to correct your grandstanding. They have the final say on the story of each fish.
In this hypothetical world, they are also the only ones who can objectively tell the story of your growth as an angler. We like to forget certain events—for example, I threw a pole into Pyramid Lake and fell on the beach like a toddler—or watch them through rose-colored glasses. The fly fishing rod will remember every throw, every drop, every fall, every lost or missed fish. Most importantly, it will show you how every mistake makes you a better angler.
That's why I sat on the tailgate of the truck with a heavy heart, staring sullenly at a fly rod. This is the first top fishing rod I bought myself-9'5wt Winston. I used that rod to fish for grayling and salmon in Alaska, and for trout and gold trout in the Rocky Mountains. There is no doubt that this is the most fishing rod I have ever caught. It has the most stories to tell and the most memories locked up.
However, the last time I caught it, I was rafting with two friends in the Lower Green River in Utah. My friends flew from both sides of the strait to drift, they plan to come a few days in advance to see if the fishing here is as good as I said. I prepared my boat, installed the fishing rod, and we went into the water very early.
My Winston was strung with a dried fly, but I only scattered it a few times that day. We were fishing in late August, which can be a difficult time for the greens. In the past few months, anglers have smashed it to death, the fish has been caught dozens of times, and the catch of dry flies is so tentative that you almost find it difficult to get the bait.
In order to get back to the hotel for dinner in time, I hurriedly packed the boat, and I tucked Winston back into its rod tube. I didn't notice that the stockings were soaked. Fast forward a few weeks. It is mid-September and I have just moved to Evanston, Wyoming, where I work as a middle school English teacher. After a long day with the children, I took my trusted Winston and rode a shotgun to one of more than a dozen rivers less than an hour’s drive from the school.
When I parked, the wind blew over the sagebrush and the sun was low on the horizon. The weather is warm enough that I don't need to wade, so I fasten my boots and go to string my fishing rod. Only then did I realize the error.
Opening the rod tube released a musty smell, which made my appetite appetite. I groaned and pulled out the fishing rod, feeling the socks still wet. A few years ago, I started to make bamboo poles, and there are quite a few canes in my quiver. The first thing you know about bamboo is to never store bamboo poles in damp places. once. in any case. Although this is heavy for bamboo owners, it is also true for people fishing graphite.
The water left in the stockings had seeped into the small cracks and dents in Winston's varnish. Mold grows between the surface of the rod and the varnish. Almost every thread package is cloudy due to water, mold, or a combination of the two.
Then I looked at the reel seat. Water soaked the wood, causing it to swell and trap the locking tape on the formerly gorgeous long wood with knobs. The reel seat gasket is at least 1/16 inch higher than the lock threaded barrel, if not more.
When I tried to wipe off some water and mold from the coffin, the last nail on the coffin came out. It has corroded the varnish on the pole inscriptions to the point that all the varnish and hand lettering can be removed by simply drying it.
In a matter of weeks, the water ruined my first and favorite fly rod. I hardly want to fish, even though I have a lot of spare rods in my truck. After learning that my stupidity caused me to lose a dear friend, fishing felt wrong. I still fished, but I didn't catch anything. On the way back to Evanston, I avoided deer and antelopes, and thought more of Winston, which was dried in the passenger seat.
Usually, we think that the fly stick will always exist. Our grandfather or father has inherited enough fishing rods, and the old-fashioned fishing rod market is still very active, they seem to be eternal. Of course, they are not, and I am desperate to lose some graphite, thread, glue, nickel silver and wood, which is kind of ridiculous. However, I lost more than just the pole. These are all the memories I made when I used it, the fish I caught, the places I've been. I now only have photos on Instagram, not a tangible connection to these experiences. This is not as strong as a fly rod.
Spencer Durrant is a fly fishing writer, guide, and bamboo pole manufacturer from Utah. He now lives in Wyoming. Spencer runs the Utah fly fishing company Spencer Durrant Outdoors and is a regular columnist for Hatch magazine. Connect with Spencer on Instagram/Twitter, @Spencer_Durrant.
Matt responds on Tuesday, September 28, 2021-08:14 permalink
I encountered the same situation last year. The strange thing is that with the same pole, a beloved Winston 9'5wt. The stick took me on my first pilgrimage to Montana, and spent many beautiful days with me in Delaware. Once I hurriedly stuffed it soggy, I quickly forgot it, and opened it a few weeks later and found a similar mess. Mine is not as bad as yours, the surface treatment is still intact, some of the bleach on the pole socks and the carnauba wax on the shaft are almost restored to a new state. The old reel seat has become blunt, and I have not been able to get it back. However, your article did motivate me to open all my fishing rod boxes and let them ventilate... just in case. Old rods never die, they just fade away.
Bob Irvin responds on Tuesday, September 28, 2021-11:06 permalink
Keep the fishing rod dry and the fish moist!
Mother-in-law responds on Tuesday, September 28, 2021-18:39 Permalink
Sorry for your fishing rod Spencer! But I bet you will never make this mistake again. The lessons that hurt the most often persist.
DJH Hanrahan on Tuesday, September 28, 2021-20:25 Reply
My wife said that we should set up a support group for those of us who do stupid things with flying rods.
Steve responds on Wednesday, September 29, 2021-21:17 permalink
I am sorry for you. It only takes a moment that is forgotten, and your world will change. Every rod I own is an extension of me, carefully selected; my arms and hands reach near a fish. Trembling, waiting for acceptance, or not. We work as a team. Words are not enough to lose a partner who is so suitable for you. This is not an accident beyond your control, it makes things worse. May you find a new you to replace the lost part.
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