As a whole fly fisher folk tend to lean toward what some might label as perseveration.
We tend to think or do certain things over and over again. We stubbornly cling to gear and flies that have seen better days, that perhaps aren’t the sexiest ‘new’ creations out there but get it done reliably time after time.
We relish well-worn memories of favorite rivers, fish and friends.
We also savor our ability to anticipate.
Those of us scribbling here at Chi Wulff have written about anticipation a few times before (here, here and here), though I think Quinn Grover’s piece about it from last August (the middle link above) is the best one…
Perhaps its my bias but I think fly anglers have have a pretty good chunk of the anticipation market. We’ve got this pre-trip anticipation and all that goes with it, but we also have the anticipation that comes with stringing up a rod as we stand by a river. Its a different strain and often more exciting (if there are fish rising it can be quite nerve-wracking). Even the moment when we walk down the trail or take that first step into the river or push the boat off the dock is a moment of what just might be. We feel it in our guts. Today could be the day, the one we’ve always dreamed about. We’ve even got the anticipation of reading about someone else’s trip–that forlorn, unshakeable feeling that one day we will fish that same water and cast to those same fish–even if our logical brain knows we never will.
She Who Must Be Obeyed and I find ourselves anticipating a run back to home country in Bozeman this next Friday for an interesting business meeting and the more important tradition of celebrating her birthday in Yellowstone.
We’re enjoying the hell out of life around the Sound in Washington right now, though we find it nigh on impossible to shake Montana’s dust from our boots.
I don’t know what I’m anticipating more – swinging the last of the early season soft-hackles on the Firehole (aided by a several week run of unseasonably cool weather) or breakfast at Main Street Overeasy and a burger at The Garage (on the patio of course).
I like anticipation.
[Image – Firehole River, from our River Gems series…]
