I wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that. It's like when someone says to me, "So, you like fishing and the outdoors and stuff?"
"Yea, little bit."
In those situations I look for an answer as much to satisfy myself as to satisfy the inquisitor. Usually I come up short. Not that I need to explain the appeal of taking a fish on a swung fly and two handed rod, because several others have beat me to it. If you missed it on Moldy Chum last week, follow the hyperlink to the trailer for "One in Winter" - it might shed some light on the situation for you.
The best you can do in this often futile endavor, as I once heard it put, is to"fish beautiful water well." Normally, 2/3 of the way through a run with nary a sniff of the fly and I'm bailing for greener pastures. But the scene that unfolds at about 5:00 into "One in Winter" inspired me this week. I'd work down to the glassy end of a run without a grab, and that picture would begin to play in my head; The run slicks out, the line slows, the suspense builds. Just when you've convinced yourself it's not going to happen, everything gets heavy. Proof of concept is a beautiful thing.
The weapon of choice has been a new creation I like to call the "Randy Moss." The inspiration? "Straight flash, homie."
Not to be forgotten, the "Fur Burger" is still wreaking havoc on local steelhead populations. Recovering from knee surgery, Alex has been logging some sweat-shop caliber hours behind the vise of late and spun me up a few samples. On Wednesday he hobbled down streamside to bear witness for the last fish of the day, a pretty double banded buck that came out of [go figure] a tailout in his backyard, on his fly. Almost as good as catching it yourself, eh bud?