I had cast the fly just right, or so I thought. I knew there was a monster brown trout in the pool where it had landed. But I also knew that browns were wily fish not easily fooled by artificial flies. If I was going to catch this guy the fly I had tied had to be right. I thought it was, this fish would soon be coming after the bait!
Slowly drawing in my line, drawing it near the fallen tree where I assume the big fish lay. Nothing, Not even a rise. Could I be wrong? Had someone beaten me to it? It was only yesterday after noon I had seen him surface several times feeding on the May flies that dotted the surface of the smooth, clear pool. He had to be there still. Maybe my fly was not as right as I thought.
An old timer had taught me the art of fly fishing. He had imparted everything from casting techniques to the intricate art of fly tying. As a student I had been impatient and boastful, but he had just laughed at my bravado with a knowing attitude. Fly fishing was the great humbler and he knew I would either learn or be defeated.
The first time we had gone out together, he took me to the Escanaba River. It was broad and there was plenty of open bank giving me, the novice, room to learn several of my teachers casting methods and tricks. Stubborn and proud I fought against his advice and began to learn the hard way that maybe I was not as adept at this skill as I thought. Many other days were spent together as I finally saw that listening to and imitation of his techniques were the only way I was going to become proficient at the art of fly fishing. He was a patient teacher and without a step sideways at all my nonsense kept drilling me with steady, relevant information. Within three months I was ready for the next challenge, the amazing art of fly tying.
Again, my mentor ignored my bluster and youthful clumsiness. Starting with simple flies he went step by step through each. By this time, it was winter and as I became less mouthy and more proficient, we spent several hours of that cold season readying our supply of flies for the spring. By April I felt ready and as soon as the season opened begged him to take me out with him. To my surprise he just told me that I was ready and to get out there myself. Fly fishing is best when it is just you and the fish. My patient teacher had done his job and it was now my time to put all of it to use.
Now I was on the Carp River, two months later, and after many successes and failures was in a test of skills with a brown trout. All the things I had learned were going to be needed. The right cast, the right fly and something my mentor had stressed time and again, patience. The one thing he could not give me and the one thing that would be a deciding factor if I could land this or any wily fish.
My addictions stole many things from my life. Some like my relationship with my son are so much more terrible for the affect it has had on his life. These types of pains do not subside. But not all things that addiction steal are so life altering. Some of them are just simple pleasures which allow each of us to live a rounded, fulfilling life. Once upon a time fly fishing was one of those simple pleasures for me. If you have ever been on a stream, just you, nature and the fish, I cannot remember anything that compares. It is not for everyone but for me as a young man it was where I learned the idea of patience. It was working too.
But that is the problem with addictions. As they take hold of your life, they squeeze out everything else. And the first things to go are the simple and fulfilling pleasures such as fly fishing. Once things like it, hobbies, are gone then they eat away at the bigger things until there is no room for anything or anyone.
God did not mean it to be that way. He gave us curious minds and adventurous spirits. Even more than that He knew we needed time away from the hustle and bustle of this world. There is a verse in the gospel of John that describes how addictions affect our natural lives and what a life in Jesus gives us back, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” (John 10:10) That is what Satan does with addictions he steals all that is good, kills our very soul and destroys the people around us. But it does not have to be this way. Jesus also promises us this, …”I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6) I can testify that he can restore any of us.
That fish taught me more patience then anything I remember. One day two months later with a different fly I landed him. So beautiful he was that I could not keep him and set him free. That would not be the pattern of my life. My own freedom would soon be surrendered. I doubt if I will ever take up fly fishing again. But I now once again can enjoy the beauty of the nature God created and do not have wasted days trapped in addictions. Jesus is the reason and as he has promised “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. (John 36:8) I am that blessed today, you can be too!
Blessings John
1/30/19
