I have fished for as long as I can remember. I sat on the bank fishing with my Grandfather in the Everglades, I sat and fished with my other Grandfather in Indiana, I have fished with my Father on lake Wawasee, and I have fished with my Mother in her backyard pond. All of my fishing memories I cherish, however it is my first fly fishing rod and reel that call my name.
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Just the sheer nature of the sport puts one in settings beyond words. Climbing down steep slopes to reach the perfect stretch of water in the Smoky Mountains, hiking hours through the Northern parts of New Mexico to find wild trout, the scenery, the connection with nature, and the fish, how could I forget the fish? For most anglers there are specific fish on the mind, and specific fish that keep one awake at night. For this angler it is trout, in my eyes there is no more perfectly designed fish on earth. The shape of the body of a trout is designed for exactly what it spends it's life doing, looking upstream waiting on my fly. The trout has colors and patterns beyond explanation, each one just a bit different than the next, and each one ready to put up a fight and make your reel scream with anticipation of finally landing what is on the end of the line.
There is no more pleasurable thing in fishing than catching a trout on a fly, a tiny fly made to emulate a terrestrial. Fly fishing is a sport of congeniality as well, a true angler works to protect the fish and sport he or she loves. This is of upmost importance to one who loves the sport, a true angler knows that to love a sport is to want to pass it on to the next generation. Being an angler is a responsibility, a responsibility to pass it on and honor the environment that keeps angling alive. I know all who love this sport of fly fishing will agree, it is something we need to protect through keeping our fisheries clean, by passing on a respect for the environment, and protecting the fish who lure us back time after time.
