Sure, there's some pictures of fish in here...some awesome fish...but they are the delightful byproduct of adventure and not necessarily the purpose. Setting out to catch them may be a catalyst but still just one element in the formula. They're a punctuation mark on a great trip.
If you want fish for dinner, there are easier ways than fly fishing to get it on the table. In fact it would be hard to conceive of a less efficient way. While I love to eat fish, I rarely keep any that I catch. I'm a disciple of the catch-and-release school.
Now we know it's not enough to just throw them back. It starts even before you arrive. Electing not to fish when the river is too hot. Respecting the season when fish are spawning or otherwise stressed. Balancing decisions on what tackle to use so as to give the fish a sporting chance, with the wish to land them before exhausting them.
Landing is not the right way to describe the release which should avoid dragging them onto the bank or flopping them into the bottom of the boat. With the "keep-them-wet" crowd, even lifting the fish out of the water for more than a few seconds is offside. Touching the protective film on the skin of the trout can do harm. Instead we swim the fish into the water at our feet and reach with delicate surgical hemostats to flick the fly from the mouth of the fish with a deft twist.
Sustainable is a word you hear a lot. If I'm being blunt, that often translates into how much can we take out of the water and still have fish to catch next time we come. There are salmon and steelhead runs in some rivers where the catch rate exceeds the total number of fish entering the river. Either anglers are vastly exaggerating, or it means every fish is caught more than once. Improving the odds that a released fish will survive is a part of that covenant. It's a fine line between stewardship and loving a place to death.
We do love our favourite haunts. We covet them and keep them secret as if that can keep them safe. Ignoring the fact that they are just one link in a bigger chain and what affects the fish upstream or down, cannot be ignored. The less accessible the better. Climbing down the steep overgrown bank, over logs and then across the lower part of the pool only to find someone else has been there feels like a violation. Like your house has been robbed. A place might be called your home water, implying you're comfortable and at ease there. It also implies a sense of possession. This is my spot.
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