My New Orange Pajamas

15 Apr

I have been doing a fair share of mercenary trout hunting for clients over the past few weeks.  I would say I am officially in the trout business for the next four months…and business is good…reeeeaaaaallll goooooood (I am drawing out my best hillbilly accent here…imagine it in your minds…there you go, now you got it).  Anyway, like all the fishing I have ever done there have been great days and so/so days over the past few weeks.  Since I have been guiding I think my definition of a good day has changed somewhat and it begs the question, “What the fuck does constitute a good day of fishing anymore?”.  When I was but a mere lad, just starting out in the fly fishing thug-life, I considered a good day to be any day that a fish was caught, this slowly transformed to any day either multiple fish were caught or a decent fish was brought to hand.  All of this fish mongering eventually turned into an ugly more intense form of fish mongering where phrases like “double-digit” and “twenty on a twenty” were the only ones that would allow me to truly enjoy myself.  One morning, in the not too distant past I woke up and realized all of my self fishing hate was really counter productive to the yogi like zen  being I envisioned the new and better me to be.  So I changed my standards.  All I wanted was one really good eat.  Whether it be dry or nymph I wanted the slow mo’ sequence of fish eating…me setting…fish hooked, to play out perfectly at least once a day.  No foul hooks, no accidental soft hackle recast hooking, all I wanted was one perfect eat and hook set.    This sounds like bullshit right?  Ask the people I fish with, this is all I look for anymore out of a day of fishing, besides cheap beer and fried chicken that is…oh yeah and Snickers…hmmm Snickers.  Now that I have become the fly fishing version of Siddhartha it doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy big fish and big numbers of fish as much as I used to.  I am still the first one to skin off and dance the jig when I hit a blanket hatch just right and every fish in the river is looking up, I just don’t get as pissed off as I used to when it doesn’t happen.  I have no idea whether I have finally reached a higher state of enlightenment or I have just finally convinced myself that  the bullshit my brain spews, like a broken sewer line, is the way things should be, but I am gonna try it out for a while and see how it fits.

Be at peace,

– A Kinder Gentler Nymph-o


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