Fancy Fishing & Master Mishaps with Owl Jones

It was 3 a.m. and I was tying up a batch of #6 Red Winged Polyfluffers. I was in a hurry because in just 5.762 hours I'd be in the middle of the largest Red-Winged Polyfluffer hatch anyone had ever seen. The problem was that every time I wanted to whip finish my fly, I had to pick up the whip finish tool. Now, I've never learned the hand-whip, so I need the tool - but the extra time spent picking it up and putting it down was a drag. Who has an extra 2.34 seconds out of each hour these days? Not me.

Sometimes, things just don't go your way. It happens to everyone and there's often little we can do about it other than try to adjust our plans and our attitudes. Take my friend Hal for example...

It was a hot, early summer day in May and I was standing in the Davidson River near Brevard, North Carolina. I was trying my best to look like I knew what I was doing. I was casting over a pod of trout that you could easily call “monsters” by anyone's standards and in the clear, cold water I swear I could see the biggest one in the back of the pod smiling at me. He wore a sort of fishy smirk, like he knew I didn't have a shot at tempting him or any of his buddies into biting.

 Anyway, we fished all day that day – nearly 12 hours of hard-core bass fishing. We caught fish too! Bass, bream and even a few crappie maybe. It's been a while now since that first trip and it's hard to remember the exact number or size of the fish. I do remember one thing though...

 Ah, fishing! That most relaxing and pastoral of past-times. A hobby, a sport, and a recreation all wrapped up in one. Who could ever possibly lament such a thing? I could. I'll tell you why, too.