Galilean Fisherman

     Since the weather, water levels, and some sort of cosmic conspiracy is preventing me from fishing, I am spending time at my vise tying flies for an outing that has to happen soon.           There is an art to tying flies. It is not as complicated as you might think, but it takes a life-time to master. It can be as simple as wrapping thread on a hook. It can be so complicated that only the very best – with a huge bank account to buy the exotic materials – ever attempt to tie them.           The primary goal: to trick fish.           I have taught several fly tying classes over the years. The first thing I teach students is “Do not crowd the eye of the hook.” I say it often, hoping that repetition will cause the mantra to sink in.           Sure enough, the first attempts a student makes end up with too much material at the head of the fly. In other words, they have crowded the eye to the point there isn’t enough room on the hook to finish the fly.           It is a matt

           Quite possibly the best fishing tool one can possess is persistence. The fly that does not work today, may be the hottest thing on the river tomorrow. The fish may not be here today, but they are stacked up in the same place tomorrow. Persistence.           For many years, I have had a hand-lettered, framed piece of calligraphy on my wall called, “Press On.” Let me share it with you.           “Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education alone will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.”           That piece of advice has been the motivating factor in my life for more years than I can remember.           It still is.           For the past couple of years, I have been plagued with foot pain. A pinched nerve in my right foot. Nothing – nothing – I di

     . . . and just that quick, winter roared in on us.      That doesn't mean the end of fishing; but it does mean a shift in the method.  Smallmouth bass will be hunkered down in deep holes, their metabolism slowed down by lower temperatures. Their diet - unlike ours - will be more a matter of survival rather than grabbing anything that comes by.      Trout, on the other hand, are not so affected by colder weather. However, their diet will also change, based upon what food is available. Gone are the grasshoppers and ants. Now most of the flies used to trick these wily trout will be small nymphs and midges.      And there is a change in those who fish.  More layers of clothing, waders, jackets, neoprene gloves, earmuffs, watch caps.       Personally, I like fishing in the winter. The cold keeps the amateurs at home. To tw ist a phrase, penguins and hard-core fishers go out in the bleak of winter.  I may have to move from fishing from my kayak to wading.        I once fished

     I'm sure you are familiar with the saying: "Carpe Diem" - "Sieze the Day." Did you know that's not the whole saying?      Horace, the Roman poet wrote: "Carpe diemquam minimum credula postero." Translated as: "Seize the day, put no trust in the morrow." That is a wise standard by which a fly fisher can order his/her life.      There is a temporal nature to all earthly things. The water you fish today will not be the same tomorrow. The fish, the water, the weather are are constantly changing. Perhaps more significantly, the angler is also changing. A good fishing trip, like a good meal, a good book or a good movie, ends too soon.      Such was my experience this past week.      I traveled to Mountain Home to attend a fishing seminar led by Pat Dorsey. I arranged to meet my good friend Keith a day early to help him shop for a kayak and to get in a little fishing.      Another friend of mine pointed us to a quiet stretch of water t