I
met a man today and proved to him I am crazy!
“Excuse me. What's that
sticker in the window of your truck?”
I
turned and saw a middle aged man in the parking spot next to me,
sitting in his car. He had the look of a man waiting for his wife.
“What is 'Palmetto Fly N Fish'? You into
airplanes? Aquariums?”
“Fly fishing, in fact,” I
replied. “See the Facebook symbol? It's a Facebook group. You
should check us out.”
“Well, okay, really?... fly fishing, huh? There isn't much of that around here, is
there?”
“Plenty! There is water everywhere.
But if you mean are there many people doing it - no, not really. A few, but just a few.
South
Carolina isn't exactly a hot bed of fly fishing action. I get a lot
of odd looks and comments about it. Stuff like...
'Fly
Fishing? Can you do that here?'
'Why? There aint no
trout around here...'
'Is that even legal?'
I've heard all these and more. If isn't a
Beetle Spin, Zebco reel, or bass lure, well....it throws people off balance.”
“But you go for bass and striper, right? That's
something worthwhile.”
BOOM! There it was. *Something worthwhile.*
I could see his judgment looming, so I decided to play him for awhile.
“I'll go for bass if I
think it's the thing to do; it depends on the conditions. I'm always
ready for them, but I'm not always after them. Striper on the other
hand, well”...
He perked up when he heard the name...
"I consider
them a costly nuisance." "
"Huh? A nusiance? What do you mean?"
" Well, they show up when you least expect them and mess with my kind of fishing. Thats the nuisance part.
And by costly, I mean I can't afford all the gear, the time, or even the gas for them. Besides, roaring all over the lake chasing fish is "Class
A personality" stuff, which isn't really my bag.”
Striper not my
bag? Distaste clouded his face.
He looked me up and down, now; my tie-dye T-shirt and the bandanna cap on
my head cemented his opinion of me as a blaspheming nut.
“So
you mean you just go for brim and PANFISH?? That's it?”
“Yeah,
pretty much. In fact I look forward to this time of year in
particular. This is the time of year for wet wading – that's my
favorite.
“Oh, I gotcha... with waders.” He seemed
relieved to hear something normal come from my mouth.
“Well
– not exactly. I do have waders, but 'wet wading' is where you get
into the water with nothing but a pair of light cotton pants, and
wading boots. Anywhere that lets me access waist deep water with
weeds, wood, or rocks, I'm wading in.
Even when the boat ramps are overrun, and the picnic tables
jam-packed.... I can wade in and find quiet and solitude away from the
crowd.
I use pajama pants and scuba reef boots for that. The pants
are super light weight, and the scuba boots beat regular wading boots
hands down.... and at 1/3 the cost.”
“Eh...pajama
pants...” he said. He was just short of sneering at this point.
"So
you're fishing t-o-p-w-a-t-e-r” – he drew out the word the way you'd mention a redheaded step-child.
“Oh yes; I always start with the surface. But there's an entire water column,
from top to bottom, and I fish it all.
On top I might use a
popper, a foam fly, or even a trout fly."
The word, "popper" got me another forlorn look.
“But the top water bite soon fades out, especially
as the sun climbs high. That's when I switch to subsurface patterns.
Nymph mimics or soft hackles are especially good for that. Baitfish flies, and crawfish patterns work well, too, in the right
areas.”
“You've put a lot of thought into this....” he
observed.
He said it the way a psychiatrist talks to a patient in a
straightjacket.
“Well sure - all fish have their ways and
their life cycles. It's more than just trout, after all. And we have
trout here, too, but have to go out of your way to get into them.
Since I prefer to
fish 15 minutes from my house, trout aren't normally in my plans.
But there is a Trout Unlimited group over in Columbia*, so there are a
few other fly anglers over that way.”
* Columbia, SC
“Oh, Trout Unlimited... yes,
yes, okay... then you must know Jim So-and-so. Yes, they're a good outfit and they
get into some...”
I stopped him and smiled widely.
“No, sorry I don't know
him. The TU folks are big money people, anyway... I can't afford them!" I chuckled.
"Let's just say they are another sort of Class A personality, folks cut from a different
cloth than me. Besides they are way over there, so I have never joined.
I'm not really a
joiner, anyway, not in that way.”
Now he was snorting,
the way you do when you're sure the other guy is off his rocker.
“So,
do you ever catch anything decent?”
He wasn't hiding his scorn, now.
I sensed the the time was right, so I went for the
throat....
“Well, today I caught a nice redbreast
off the boat ramp. It came on an old-school bucktail fly, and it led
me around in circles two or three times. I wasn't quite sure what it
was, because it wasn't the rocketing run of a bass, or the throbbing
pull of a bluegill. It wanted to run, and I let it.
It was a nice surprise; they're beautiful
fish.”
He was sure I was sun-baked, then...anyone happy with a redbreast on a fly rod must be.
Just
then, his wife appeared with that, “who are you talking to,” look
that wives have. He was clearly glad to see her, to be rescued from this tie-dyed kook.
“Well you take care...” he said, and
hastily started the car.
At last, it was time for the coup de grรขce, the final blow, ....”Sorry, friend," I said. "I didn't catch your name. We
ought to go fishing sometime...'
"Yeah, sure..." he muttered. "Maybe one of
these days...” he couldn't get away fast enough.
That redbreast really WAS a beautiful fish....
------ <~~> ------
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Palmetto Fly n Fish
Thanks so much for reading, and...
Tight Lines,
Dave Hutton
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