My wife and I recently celebrated an almost blissful 41 years of marriage by visiting a couple of New York breweries and then, on the homeward trek, by stopping in Naples for an ice-cream fix. I enjoyed the (ahem!) fly-fishing fudge, married to a scoop of finely textured coffee. Next morning, I set forth on a visit to a local head water to see if the trout were staying cool enough. I had another anniversary to observe.
The water temperature in the deep-pool riffle registered at the upper-limit for trout comfort. At any higher reading I would not have made an effort. In likelihood, the browns and rainbows were stressed enough by late-summer conditions, but the watershed had recently experienced some cool nights and sufficient rainfall, so I was back at it. My love-affair with bamboo fishing rods had experienced some pangs of heartbreak recently, so I was on the water with my earliest rod infatuation– a 1973 Fenwick. Yeah, a 50-year-old fiberglass pole.
The year was ’73. My girlfriend at the time broke my first fly rod (an ugly yellow stick that I owned for a decade) when she slammed it in the doorway of my VW Bug. She felt so bad about the accident that she went out and bought me a much-improved instrument, the 5-weight 7’6″ Fenwick. I was thankful for the gift, certainly, and fished it intermittently for the next dozen years but, truth be told, I never cared much for it. I don’t know why. Maybe the “action” was unbalanced; maybe the design was a little goofy, whatever… And it didn’t help to know that graphite rods were becoming hugely popular at the time, no doubt much more efficient (and expensive) than the older glass utensils. I could not afford a decent graphite in those days, but I could dream.
Fashionable trends are no stranger to the fly-fishing business. I might have been trying to “keep up with the Joneses” back then but, in my defense, I was hitting the learning curve and didn’t really know any Jones people who were fly-fishing at the time. Remember, this was well before THE MOVIE starring that Pitt fellow. Then, by 1991, I acquired my first Orvis Superfine graphite and… it’s been downriver ever since (sort of).
Graphite came and graphite went. Bamboo came for me and (sadly) split-cane rods eventually lost their edge and went because of breakage and poor relations with custom repairs. But fiberglass arrived again, as vital as vinyl record albums, and I’m pleased with its toughness and its slower (than graphite) casting stroke. I had given the old Fenwick to a neighbor kid who used it for years and then suddenly returned it after he went out and bought his first graphite rod. Anyway, what goes around comes around. I reevaluated my antiquated fiberglass wand and wondered– what the hell was I thinking? I could now make 50-foot lawn casts accurately and with ease. What wasn’t there to like?
The only fish rising to a dry fly was an occasional chub. Not a good sign. Then I decided to fish a tandem rig: two wet flies– a Hare’s-Ear for the tail fly and a Green Weenie for the dropper. A drift through the cool deep riffle brought immediate action. A rainbow took the Hare’s-Ear, and a brown trout took the Weenie before the action ended almost as quickly as it started. The fish were set free from the old fiberglass rig, and the present moment melded with the bygone era for a brief but pleasant overture.
Rivertop Rambles 
Walt, I enjoyed your Ramble .. Im looking forward to getting out soon,
Dave Hutchison
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Thanks, Dave. Hope to see you out there one of these days.
“Almost blissful” made me laugh as soon as I started reading! More to the substance, though: while the vehicles/mediums for enjoying a particular hobby or passion may change with the times, the real story is the holding power of the activity itself, both for an individual and the broader population. Your analogy to vinyl records is a good one, since listening to music and fly fishing are tried and true activities, even if the preferred mediums change (and fade from/return to vogue).
Yes, “… the real story is the holding power of the activity itself…”! Could be marriage (almost blissful) or it could be an activity such as fly-fishing or nature study, etc. What holds through the passage of time. Thanks!
I was prowling the interweb the other day in search of fiberglass. I’ve always coveted the Diamondback 7’ 3 weight but alas, never procured one. So imagine my delight when hopping on the Diamondback website to find said rod on sale for 126 bucks, but – SOLD OUT!
Labor Day found me on a small ANF stream in search of truchas. A picturesque little run, cold, but nearly as unpolluted by water as it was trout.
Yeah, that fiberglass was probably pretty neat, but I think there’s likely to be another cool one waiting for you somewhere. If we get down to Hammersley Fork & if Balducchino’s is open, we could see some nice ones there.
Your post inspires me to breakout my 60s vintage Orvis Superfine bamboo, the only remaining cane in the rod rack. At 7’6″ it is the perfect upland stream rod. We have a few streams like that in Eastern Washington.
Steve, yes, break it out & enjoy that classic upland model. Reminisce on a favorite stream & cherish the present time where nature & tradition forge a wonderful experience!
Almost blissful for forty-something years? This is a very high score, Walt – I’m talking about successful relationships not the long lasting love affair with fly-fishing (but that’s pretty good too!) Congratulations!
Not a bad score, indeed, for a fellow who can sometimes be (according to his other half) a real pain in the butt. But I’ll take it! Thank you, Adam.
Go ‘glass! And congrats to you both on the Anniversary!
Thank you, Leigh! We missed you at the Summerfest this year.
At a guess you’ve become a better caster in the intervening years.
(My take on “The Movie” is it did well because fly fishing had already become trendy. If anything, those well-rendered images of a simpler time gave a lot of traction to the emerging bamboo cottage industry. Certainly over the next decade I kept running into more and more people who were turning out rods in their basements and garages anyway.)
I think the current glass renaissance was pretty much inevitable. If you disavowed the graphite arms race, but couldn’t afford bamboo…
Congratulations on kindling a new flame, as well as managing to keep the old one burning!
Thank you for your reading & the comments, A. Yeah, as a self-learner who began his casting in the 1960s, I’m like a lot of us who improved with time & practice & were aided by our mentors, books & movies (such as those inspired by Maclean’s story). Although fly-fishing trends come & go, the basic tenets hold to a simple beauty: going one-on-one with the mysteries of water.
Walt
Congrats on your 41-year marriage; Cathey and I celebrated our 48th—this past August.
I still remember my Dad’s fiberglass flyrod five wt. It is amazing the weight difference when comparing a graphite to a fiberglass. I’m completely should on my graphite flyrods.
Thanks for sharing
And congrats to you on yours, Bill! The weight differences in modern glass & graphite rods is hardly noticeable in my experience. In comparable-sized rods the differences can be measured in what… eights of an ounce? Anyway, I prefer the slower, softer cast of newer fiberglass.
My mind was going ‘elsewhere’ when I read you passage: “My girlfriend at the time broke my first fly rod (an ugly yellow stick that I owned for a decade) when she slammed it in the doorway of my VW Bug.” And I can’t bring myself to explain any further (as there’d be written evidence if I posted it here). Maybe I can explain in person someday as I might lose a right arm if my better-half got wind of what I would say. Hahaa! Anyway, nice post Walt!
Thanks! Well, I’d love to hear your story someday. Usually, it’s us guys who make the wrong moves on our cherished possessions but, occasionally, it comes from a blunder by our better halves. In my case, luckily enough, it led me to a better fly rod!