Winter isn’t even really here yet, and I’m already thinking about next year. A lot of us fly fishermen have put down our rods for at least a couple months by this point in the year, and honestly, it’s kind of nice to have a break. Winter is traditionally a time of knuckling down and really getting things done in our family, and fly fishing has a way of distracting me from my tasks.
But still the thoughts of fishing linger. Sure, there is some good fishing in the late winter. But it’s not quite the same. Wet wading in shorts and sandals is a hell of a lot easier than layering and bundling up, breaking ice out of guides every five minutes, and praying to God above that the feeling in your toes will come back once you get out of the water.
That being said, I am very fond of winter fishing. If for no other reason than there is hardly anyone else out on the water. You can fish in places that during the summer would be so crowded with people you couldn’t even make a backcast without hooking some idiot from out of state. So there is that to look forward to. But still the long days of summer call
I’m already making a list of where I’m going to fish next year. All those lakes I planned to hit, but never did, the northeast corner of Yellowstone, the Beaverhead and the Big Hole. The list goes on and on. It’s scribbled over several notepads, scraps of paper, and maps littering my apartment. I’ll be shocked if I will ever be able to find it all.
There is always one more secret spot to hit, one more river you’ve never tried before. That is one of those things that I love most about fly fishing. You’ll never fish it all. If you’re bored with where you are, just head somewhere else. Try somewhere new for a change.
That list will always be with me, and no matter how many places I get to visit and fish, there will always be more. All my life, there will be more places to fish than I could possibly hit. And if we work to preserve them, there always will be. That’s a damn comforting thought.
