The green rod and fishing with dad

It has always been my favorite rod, one those rods that just melt into your hand and casts beautifully, I’m sure we all have a fly rod that gives us that feeling! My obsession with this green fly rod started long ago. This rod was special; it was hand crafted specifically for my dad, and I recall going to the rod shop in Flagstaff, Arizona with him to pick it up from a guy named Mark. 

I had always been fascinated and mesmerized by watching my father tie flies (he would let me sit on his lap and make my own VERY sparkly and VERY pink patterns), wear his neoprene waders, help blow up his float tubes and practice casting with old lines. At the time I was too young to manage all the complex components of fly fishing on the small streams and lakes he would frequent but he let me participate and included me as much as I was able. But soon, I would be joining him on my maiden fishing trip to a local stream.

I was about 10 years old and my sister 11, when we were able to go fly fishing for the first time. He let me use THE green rod. It was this beautiful, green, glass rod, no doubt his favorite, and a rod I had always admired from afar. 

Goodness, was I ever excited he was going to let me fish it! He took my sister and I to this tiny little stream called Sycamore creek in Arizona. We caught* wind knot after wind knot, every tree and branch and snagged just about every cast! Countless flies were lost. My father spent the day darting between us, dodging flying hooks and untangling EVERYTHING! When he wasn’t looking, the fish gods smiled at me and somehow I managed to catch a small trout on the great green rod. I can still recall the surprised look on his face and joy in his voice when I shouted “Dad!!! I caught a fish!!!!!”, and, how incredibly happy he was after helping me land it. This was my first fish on a fly rod! I would later discover my unwavering passion for the sport and I would be HOOKED.

Nearly 25 years later, I reflect on that first fly fishing experience and realize what a huge risk this was; to the fish (haha), to his beautiful rods and a true testament of his patience and dedication to share his love for the sport. It’s obvious that his intention of the day- as it is with most fly fishers, was to wet a line and just fish- especially with two young girls begging to learn the basics; catching was just an added bonus and this was incredibly lucky!

For years I’ve held fond memories of this rod and fly fishing with Dad. I’ve moved away and have had life and other hobbies get in the way of learning to be a semi proficient fly fisher. Though in recent years, I’ve finally been able to dedicate time to fly fish and learn the craft. And I mean really learn to fly fish-spending 150+ days a year on the water. I spent time learning to fish all kinds of water (big rivers, small streams, lakes), practiced different techniques and have worn out boots, lost nets, snaped rods and have spent time decorating trees and other non-targeted obstacles with what seems like thousands of dollars of my ugly attempts to tie the most modest flies. Hard earned experience on the water and frequent phone calls to my father has taught me much. Most of what I’ve learned is that still have SO much to learn and thankfully a lifetime to do it! Also what has been a change is when I visit my father in Arizona, I now take HIM out fly fishing- and help HIM with his wind knots. ;)

You know the rest of the story- he gifted me the beautiful green rod for Christmas and I cried when I opened it. After emailing you, I couldn’t help myself and of course my father and I went fly fishing. I got to use the green rod once again. And you guessed it - I somehow managed a small brown trout on a dry fly with the great, green rod. It happened when my father wasn’t looking but he heard the same shriek of pure joy “Dad!!! I caught a fish!!!” and came running.

Tight lines happy fishing!

Brandi

🎣 Wading🥃 Whiskey🪢 Wind Knots 👩🏼‍🔬Behavior Analyst

@kissinfishes