Flyfish, Take one.

 Woke up at 5:30am, to drive down to be with Casey as the sun rose. 

He had over sized boots for me, and flies that his late dad had made with animal fur and duck feathers from their hunting adventures, Casey is such a man's Man. The best. Casey makes my heart sing. 

 

Maybe it was The Goofie Movie, or maybe even Brad Pitt who made fly fishing looks so charming. 

But it has been on my mind for a long time, I got a pole, practiced doing casts out in my yard, watched some youtbe episodes, and after a year or so of not going, Casey was more then excited to let me join him. 

 

 I love the swish of the line moving through the air, i love the motion, I love standing in the middle of the water, I love ugly vests with lots of pockets, I love when my phone is out of service and the only sound is birds and the rush of water.

Casey and I found a spot, where the river meets the lake where the fish were pooling, maybe 20 beautiful trout, and then it became a game of what kind of fly would they bite at.
Trying to figure out what insect was in season, what would likey be in this area. .
Fishing AND Insects. . . shoot. This sport was made for me.

I caught one, but it jumped off the line before I could grab it, Casey did too. 

I feel like fly fishing in comparable to driving a stick shift.
Normal fishing, sit-in-your-lawn-chair-and-drink-a-beer fishing seems mindless.
(Granted I have not much room to talk, I'm so new to all of this)
But I love the skill it takes to flyfish, I love the active quest for fish, more control over the line, over the fly.
So great. I'm hooked, it was everything I thought it would be. 

Casey was kind enough to let me borrow his size 12 galoshes. Fit like a glove.