Learning to Fly-Fish

A few weeks ago we started fly-fishing and through it, God has tested my patience and taught me new lessons.

It all started with a day of learning at “The Angler’s Covey” fly-fishing store. Xan and Cory had told us that we were going to get up early on a Saturday morning and meet at the Angler’s Covey by 8:30am. I had a hunch that we weren’t actually going to be fishing yet, but I figured we were going to be just picking out some flies or something.

I have been fly-fishing a few times with friends and felt like I knew a fair amount. Not that I was a great fisherman by any means, but I thought I knew the basics. I was wrong. The day started with Fly-fishing 101. It was a “Basics of fly-fishing” class taught by who I believe to be the owner of the Angler’s Covey. In that hour long class, I learned more than I had in the 3-4 times that I had been actually fishing. The teacher put into words things that I had taught myself through trial and error. For instance, he talked about how a good cast involves loading your rod like a catapult, and the concept of “shooting the line”.

We learned about different types of rods, different types of lines, leaders, tippit, fly presentation, etc. I began the day thinking that I knew something about fly-fishing, but as the day progressed, I realized how much of a novice I actually was.

After Fly-Fishing 101, we went to a class on fly-fishing knots and then we took a class on aquatic insects.

The class was taught by a guy who worked at the Angler’s Covey and had a degree in aquatic entomology. Talk about a man who is passionate about fly-fishing, this guy loves fly-fishing so much that he devoted his life to the study of the insects that fly-fisherman try to mimic!

He told us about 4 types of flies that we really needed to know: May flies, Caddis flies, Stone flies, and midges. He also told us about the life cycles of these bugs. Midges and Caddis flies go through 4 phases in their life cycle while May flies and Stone flies only go through 3. He told us about how these flies live in the water but as they go through their life cycles, they eventually emerge, spread their wings, and fly.

All of a sudden, fly-fishing made sense. I finally realized the interconnection of the sport and the lifestyle of a fish. In traditional fishing, you stick a worm on the end of the hook and hope that a fish is stupid enough to chomp down on it. In fly-fishing, you are truly thinking like a fish. You are finding out what their food source is and then trying to mimic it.

I also learned that different flies hatch at different times. If you try to throw a May fly out there when Caddis flies are hatching, the fish probably won’t bite. It’s incredible! At a certain point I realized that fly-fishing isn’t just fishing....it’s hunting.

Although I learned a lot throughout the day, I was a little frustrated at the fact that I wasn’t able to pick up a rod and start casting. I consider myself to be a pretty visual learner. When I see something, I get the basics of it and I am usually able to do it with reasonable competence shortly thereafter. However, that entire day, we were all around fly-fishing but we were never able to grab a rod and start throwing the line around. It was truly a lesson in patience.

Later that day, we went to Tim’s house. Tim is one of the men involved in the program to teach and mentor us. In stepping into Tim’s garage, it is clear that he truly has a passion for fly-fishing. It was amazing. He had an old watch-maker’s desk that he had turned into his fly-tying station. There were probably 40 or 50 little drawers that were filled with hooks, beads, feathers, wire, thread, etc. All for tying flies. As he told us a few stories and showed us a few pictures, I knew this guy was a fly-fishing master.

After the pit stop at Tim’s house, we drove out to a river to see fly-fishing in action. If I was frustrated at not being able to pick up a rod at the Angler’s Covey, this was even worse. We got out to the river and broke up into small groups. We were each with one of the leaders...and we just watched. They talked about what they were doing, told us how to approach the river, showed us how to cast, how to “mend the line”, and countless other things about fly-fishing...but I still never touched a rod!

I felt as though God was thwarting my attempts to just jump into things like I usually do. So many times I have thrown myself at things with minimal instruction and then hated the fact that I knew nothing about what I was doing. It was apparent that both God and the program directors wanted to TEACH us about fly-fishing and once we were ready, they’d let us fish.

It was a completely new concept for me. I’ve realized that I haven’t been taught many things in life. It’s mostly been that I’ve simply learned from watching. Certainly it’s a good quality to be able to DO from only seeing, but now I can see that in many ways it’s kept me mediocre at a lot of things. It’s evident now that it’s impossible to become truly great at anything without learning it from someone else.

Throughout the week following, we had many more lessons about fly-fishing. Tim came back to teach us more about the sport and was accompanied by a man named Ron who shares the same passion that Tim does. We watched a few movies, talked about our previous fishing experiences, and finally, they deemed us worthy to fish.

It was a week later that we got to actually fly-fish. The Training Ground crew met with Ron and Tim at 6:15am and we drove to a place called Rosemont Reservoir. It was a mountain lake at an elevation of about 10,000 feet. It was gorgeous.

Upon reaching the lake, I immediately began falling back into my old habits. I began taking what knowledge I thought I had and putting it to use. I started by removing the rod from the case and putting it together. I then attached the reel and began threading the line. All of a sudden I paused to watch what was happening around me. Xan was busy teaching a few guys how to thread the line, Cory was helping someone tie on their leader, Ron was showing someone how to tie a clinch knot, and Tim was helping someone pick out a good fly. I was in the midst of older men who were here to teach...and I was still trying to do it all myself.

Why is it that we feel as though we need to take on the world by ourselves? Why do we feel like we have to have everything already figured out? Why do we have so much trouble simply allowing ourselves to be taught?

Some are better than others. Some of us can admit that we don’t know how to do something and approach new things with a wonderful child-like willingness to learn. Others (such as myself) feel as though we need to know everything. There’s a certain level of embarrassment involved in asking for help.

I can think of countless times when I’ve had absolutely no clue about a topic and instead of admitting that I was clueless, I simply faked it. Mountain biking is a great example. I know just enough about mountain biking to fake it.

A man that I’ve worked with recently is really into mountain biking. He was telling me about the new Chris King hubs that he got. In reality, I have no idea who in the world Chris King is (I still don’t know...I’m assuming he’s a professional mountain biker of some sort). I also don’t even know what the guy meant by “hubs”. Was it just the “hub” of the wheel or is that some sort of mountain bike jargon for the entire wheel? I still don’t know! But what did I say to him? “Chris Kings...wow...no way...that’s amazing...I’d love a pair of those.” I faked it. I’ve been doing it my whole life.

Back to fly-fishing. Here I am at some mountain lake near Colorado Springs going to fly-fish in what I consider the “big leagues”, and I’m still trying to fake it. I’m still trying to pretend that I have it figured out. On the outside I’m giving off the vibe: “I don’t need help setting up my rod...I’ve done this before...I’m practically a pro.” On the inside I’m thinking: “Am I doing this right? Did I put the reel on the correct way? What fly do I use? Was it 5 or 6 turns on the clinch knot...?”

So finally I swallowed my pride and I began asking all the questions that I had as they came to me. It was an incredible feeling. I admitted to myself that I didn’t have it all figured out and so I asked someone who knew. You know what happened? I learned. I was taught. Now I know.

It wasn’t just setting up the rod that I asked about. I began asking questions about casting, fly placement, and eventually reeling in a fish! These men were here to teach and once I welcomed that, I was able to learn.

In a lot of ways, we have a similar experience with God. Whether we think we have it all figured out or think that we SHOULD have it all figured out, many times we simply do not ask for help. I had a resource at my disposal when these men agreed to come to Training Ground and teach us to fly-fish...it was my choice as to whether or not I’d use that resource. In the same way, God can be a resource for anything and everything we ever have questions about...but it is up to us to ask him for help.

We’ve gone fly-fishing many other times since that first day and each time I’ve found myself falling into the same old habit of doing it on my own. Some of those times, I’ve continued in my solitude and done my best to catch fish. Other times, I realized what I was doing and went out of my way to seek the advice of the men there to teach.

It’s clear that when I bring myself to a place of humility and allow myself to learn, it is for the better. There’s a new level of confidence about fly-fishing that I would never have had if I continued to fake it.

I can tell that it’s not exactly a “quick-fix” type of situation that I’m dealing with here. For my whole life I’ve been trying to do it on my own and been reluctant to ask for help in almost anything that I’ve done. I feel as though every new experience will be a battle against myself. I’ll have to fight the urge to “fake it” and allow myself to be taught. Whether that means learning from an older man, friend, peer, etc. or if it means learning from God, the resources are there...all we have to do is ask.