afishinado
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Below is an article written by Mary Kuss. Mary is one of the Southeastern PA greats for many years in teaching fly-fishing, guiding, as well as the fishing itself. I share her sentiments about our success and failures in the sport. I post this article because she expressed it better than I could ever. Plus I believe we all may need a lift during these trying times.
SUCCESS
By Mary S. Kuss
“The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of something that is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.” John Buchan (1875 – 1940)
The great paradox of fishing in general, and fly fishing in particular, is that many people who enjoy the sport become obsessed with rendering it predictable and controllable. In reality, of course, this is the very last thing any of us would ever want to do. If we were to succeed in this pursuit, the above mentioned charm would be completely eradicated. Success in fishing must be elusive, otherwise it is meaningless.
Suppose there was a magical fly that always worked. There would be no reason to use anything else. We would be wildly successful in catching fish every time we went out. How long would it take for the entire enterprise to become incredibly boring and completely lose its appeal?
A day that brings many fish, or a particularly large fish, or a particularly challenging fish, is a day that will be remembered and its story told and retold many times—a treasured memory. If those days were not relatively rare, they would lose their significance. Common things are not precious things.
Sharing our memories with our fishing buddies is a special pleasure. Everyone in a group of close fishing friends knows their friends’ stories as well as they know their own, having heard them many times. This in no way diminishes their pleasure in both telling and listening. To the contrary, these stories form a large part of the bond that exists between these friends.
The more time you spend fishing, the more likely you are to collect a wonderful memory. A day of great fishing is a gift, not something that you can obtain in any other way than by grace. The fish and the fishing do not perform on demand. Mother Nature, the Fishing Gods, Fate, or however you choose to describe the force that bestows these gifts, does so in a completely inscrutable way, without regard to our wishes, hopes or expectations.
Especially when we plan a Big Trip, we do our best to increase the odds of success. We do research to make an intelligent and informed choice of when and where to go. We hire a reputable guide. We make sure our equipment is in apple-pie-order. We brush up on our casting. Yet there are many things we can not control. Weather or water conditions can go against us without warning. An expected insect hatch can be early, late, or completely absent. The fish may simply not be cooperating, for reasons entirely their own. Or they may be quite active yet all our best efforts fall short of solving the problem of the day. No matter how far we travel, or how much money we spend doing it, poor fishing or getting outright skunked is always a possibility. At such times our disappointment is keen and it’s hard to be philosophical, no matter how well we understand that there are no guarantees in fishing.
I once had a fly fishing student who happened to be a psychologist. She was already a committed fly fisher when we met, and I thought she would be uniquely qualified to answer a question I’d always wondered about. “Claudia,” I asked, “What is it about fly fishing that is so addictive?”
She didn’t hesitate at all before replying, “Intermittent gratification.” The happiest and most satisfied fly fishers are those who take genuine pleasure in the act of fishing itself, regardless of the outcome. We don’t get the desired result every time, but we know that eventually we will. That’s what keeps us coming back again and again. The knowledge of the sweet reward that awaits us, and the pleasant anticipation of that reward, makes the pursuit itself very pleasurable. Anyone who can not embrace that approach is not well-suited to fly fishing. This is a sport for the process-oriented rather than the goal-oriented. There’s a fairly high degree of difficulty, especially for the novice, and you must accept that even when you do everything “right” it may still not translate into fish hooked or landed.
For those who enjoy fly fishing and stick with it, however, there is no more satisfying pastime. After over 50 years of fly fishing, I love and enjoy the sport as much as ever. It’s brought me countless delightful hours in beautiful places, treasured friendships old and new, and plenty of fun and adventure along the way. My fondest wish is that I’m granted many more years of good health in which to continue my fly fishing journey.
SUCCESS
By Mary S. Kuss
“The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of something that is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.” John Buchan (1875 – 1940)
The great paradox of fishing in general, and fly fishing in particular, is that many people who enjoy the sport become obsessed with rendering it predictable and controllable. In reality, of course, this is the very last thing any of us would ever want to do. If we were to succeed in this pursuit, the above mentioned charm would be completely eradicated. Success in fishing must be elusive, otherwise it is meaningless.
Suppose there was a magical fly that always worked. There would be no reason to use anything else. We would be wildly successful in catching fish every time we went out. How long would it take for the entire enterprise to become incredibly boring and completely lose its appeal?
A day that brings many fish, or a particularly large fish, or a particularly challenging fish, is a day that will be remembered and its story told and retold many times—a treasured memory. If those days were not relatively rare, they would lose their significance. Common things are not precious things.
Sharing our memories with our fishing buddies is a special pleasure. Everyone in a group of close fishing friends knows their friends’ stories as well as they know their own, having heard them many times. This in no way diminishes their pleasure in both telling and listening. To the contrary, these stories form a large part of the bond that exists between these friends.
The more time you spend fishing, the more likely you are to collect a wonderful memory. A day of great fishing is a gift, not something that you can obtain in any other way than by grace. The fish and the fishing do not perform on demand. Mother Nature, the Fishing Gods, Fate, or however you choose to describe the force that bestows these gifts, does so in a completely inscrutable way, without regard to our wishes, hopes or expectations.
Especially when we plan a Big Trip, we do our best to increase the odds of success. We do research to make an intelligent and informed choice of when and where to go. We hire a reputable guide. We make sure our equipment is in apple-pie-order. We brush up on our casting. Yet there are many things we can not control. Weather or water conditions can go against us without warning. An expected insect hatch can be early, late, or completely absent. The fish may simply not be cooperating, for reasons entirely their own. Or they may be quite active yet all our best efforts fall short of solving the problem of the day. No matter how far we travel, or how much money we spend doing it, poor fishing or getting outright skunked is always a possibility. At such times our disappointment is keen and it’s hard to be philosophical, no matter how well we understand that there are no guarantees in fishing.
I once had a fly fishing student who happened to be a psychologist. She was already a committed fly fisher when we met, and I thought she would be uniquely qualified to answer a question I’d always wondered about. “Claudia,” I asked, “What is it about fly fishing that is so addictive?”
She didn’t hesitate at all before replying, “Intermittent gratification.” The happiest and most satisfied fly fishers are those who take genuine pleasure in the act of fishing itself, regardless of the outcome. We don’t get the desired result every time, but we know that eventually we will. That’s what keeps us coming back again and again. The knowledge of the sweet reward that awaits us, and the pleasant anticipation of that reward, makes the pursuit itself very pleasurable. Anyone who can not embrace that approach is not well-suited to fly fishing. This is a sport for the process-oriented rather than the goal-oriented. There’s a fairly high degree of difficulty, especially for the novice, and you must accept that even when you do everything “right” it may still not translate into fish hooked or landed.
For those who enjoy fly fishing and stick with it, however, there is no more satisfying pastime. After over 50 years of fly fishing, I love and enjoy the sport as much as ever. It’s brought me countless delightful hours in beautiful places, treasured friendships old and new, and plenty of fun and adventure along the way. My fondest wish is that I’m granted many more years of good health in which to continue my fly fishing journey.
