The Fly Fishing Woman

Caddis hatches are ON in Southern Colorado! If you are new to fly fishing, these hatches can be a great way to experience dry fly fishing for the first time. Trout feed aggressively on the surface of the water for these very easy to see, easy to tie, and fun to fish insects!

Here are 10 simple tips to improve your success at fly fishing a caddis hatch.

1. Fish a caddis hatch on a sunny, warm day. If the weather is beautiful, that is when the fishing for caddis can be a great success. If its a snowy, wet day, I skip it and wait for the next beautiful day, tie caddis, get an oil change…take a nap…

2. Fish just ahead of the hatch. See swarming clouds of caddis? The trout ahead of the hatch are anticipating the event, so travel to and fish ahead of its direction. That way your caddis fly will stand out ahead of the game!

3. If you are fishing a caddis hatch on a small stream or tail water, first treat yourself to one of the new, ultra lite fly lines like Orvis’s Hydros Superfine Fly Line. (This floating line is so weightless, I thought the package was empty.) You will be surprised how this will turn your rod into a delicate presentation machine unlike what you may have experienced out of your rod before.

4. Also when fly fishing on a small stream or tailwater, try a CDC caddis instead of an elk or deer hair caddis. CDC stands for cul de cunard (the feathers near the preening gland of a duck, and one of the lightest, durable, and most versatile high floating feathers available.)

I am obsessed with CDC flies lately, because I have experienced many times how I catch more fishing using cdc flies instead of deer/elk hair. I am not sure why this is, but I do know they allow me to present a more delicate and weightless fly to hungry trout.

5. Carry amadou with you. This fungi is your friend. Native to Africa, this material works great at drying your flies, especially fragile cdc flies. This material will last for years. And its a great partner to your Frog’s Fanny for keeping your dry flies dry.

6. Fish two flies at once. This is often called a “hopper dropper” rig, invented by John Barr. The concept is simple. You will reach the rising insect in the pupa stage and the adult stage with each cast. Tie a caddis nymph to your caddis dry fly of choice.

If you want to dive deeper into John Barr’s concept, listen to the online radio interview with John Barr on Ask About Fly Fishing Radio, or read one of his books on the subject.

7. Fish a totally random fly! Show them something different! While the trout are gorging themselves on caddis, sometimes your surprise fly is the only fly that works! Try an Adams fly, or nymph a San Juan worm. Use your imagination, or ask your local fly shop to make a suggestion.

8. Avoid the caddis hatch all together! I am serious! Many experienced anglers do. This is because you have all summer to fish using caddis flies, and the crowds of anglers during popular hatches can be intense.

9. Take advantage of a float trip. This is an amazing way to enjoy a hatch. A guide will float you through the hatch for miles, and you can cast all day on private waters away from the crowds. Don’t be surprised if you have a great fishing day on a float trip, using a fly other than a caddis fly. It happens all the time!

10. Fish your fly on the swing. If you are nymphing, remove your weight and let your rig just swing on its own with the help of your floating line. This video by Orvis is a good presentation of the technique. www.howtoflyfish.orvis.com/321-swinging-wets-and-nymphs

Thank yous go to Angler’s Covey guides Gene Rea and Tim Hannan for all your help with this article!

Keith Coursey, a local Colorado Springs photographer and I decided to have a little fun on the water this week.

One thing we noticed while studying fly fishing media, is the dire necessity for a fly fishing woman to have long, flowing locks in order to get clicks and subscribers.

Afterall, covered in waders and gear, there isn’t a lot of opportunity to express one’s feminine side; Thus, the long (and I mean REALLY long..Like, get caught in your reel long) hair seems to be the ticket that separates the wheat from the chaff for viewer attention.

That of course, and holding a giant steelhead or a big beast of a brown trout. That IS as it should be, in my humble opinion! Fishing for steelhead is physically and mentally challenging stuff, usually fished in lousy weather…for hours, even days and weeks, without one contact with a fish. These women have paid their dues before these beautiful fish were caught.

Women of all ages, shapes and sizes are entering this sport. I delight in seeing women feel confident they do not have to look like a man in order to catch fish.

I, on the other hand, when not wearing this 25 dollar “Eve” wig I got at Zeezo’s Costume Shop, do in fact, look, well…pretty much like a dude (and a 46 year old dude at that) when I am fishing. Just being real here.

Although I was blessed with a few curves, I cover my short, curly locks under my cap. With maturity, my hair does not grow to the lengths it once did.

I once heard a retired fly fishing guide say, “I retired because it was time. It was a young man’s game.” That is how I feel about social media. Its a young womans’ game.

As I pursue my interest fly fishing instruction, looks don’t seem to be a factor. In fact, I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t admit that I think the age thing helps me establish credibility, which may, or may not be, well deserved.

Would I love to get more people to my blog because I am young and beautiful? Who wouldn’t? Am I a little jealous? Perhaps. But in truth, I am far more envious of the steelhead catch they are holding, and how much I’d love to fish their location.

These women challenge me to constantly strive to be a better fly fisherman, better instructor, to travel more, and to fish often. And not to take myself or the sport too seriously.

Here is the real me.

No fish were caught. Perhaps that was karma for my spoof on fly fishing media. Big fish will be caught later when there is no camera present. I welcome the distance.

If you are new to fly fishing, and start to exhibit these symptoms, beware! You are in the early stages of trout fever…

Its difficult for you to maintain focus on a conversation when passing flowing pocket water–even if the guy talking is cute.

“Wait! Can you show me that again?” becomes a constant phrase in your vocabulary around other fly fisherman.

Your girlfriends fill you in on their relationships, kids, and jobs over lunch. You are thinking about the hatch you are missing.

Teva sandals seem more and more like the best footwear option for almost all occasions.

You ask your fellows at the fly shop what they think of your recent boyfriend, and you consider their opinions, actually, seriously.

You study your dryer lint for good potential dubbing texture and color.

You have this constant nagging awareness when at work, “Now is the best time of the year to be fishing!” No matter what season it is.

Your waders, boots and gear are now a permanent part of your back seat. And its starting to spread to your front seat.

A man who can spot big fish for you to cast to, becomes the sexiest creature on the planet.

You secretly resent anything that prevents you from getting on the water: a guest who wants to linger over breakfast, someone in front of the coffee maker at the 7 Eleven, your spouse who wants you to put the garbage out before you go. Errrrg!

You search your cat’s white patches for good post material.

You get giddy over the realization that dubbing “color packs” exist.

Your alarm goes off so early, even your dog is mad at you.

You choose dogs, boyfriends, vehicles and jobs based on their potential for fly fishing “compatibility”.

Your fly shop has you on caller id.

You start eyeing headlamps at Walmart.

You are a little sheepish when discussing your fly fishing expenses with anyone, (as if its any of their damn business!).

You start to covet old trucks. Don’t have to worry about scrapes, enormo pot holes, muddy wading boots, and wet dogs anymore. Freedom!

You cram in a few fly fishing hours before work, or rush to fish a few hours after work.

Your doctor suggests shoulder surgery. You decide to say no because rehab will cut into your fly fishing summer. So he introduces you to the joys of a cortisone shots. OW!!!

If you have experienced any of these symptoms, by all means keep fishing. The only cure is to fish more.

Finally snow in Colorado! With a late, cold winter this year, I was left wondering if I was ever going to fly fish in the snow. This year, I want to tackle with more success…(and more warmth!) the art of fly fishing in February and March.

Although a huge fan of fly fishing brands like Patagonia, Simms and Redington, when I priced their insulated jackets and shells…

Holy cow! High price tags!

I recently read a great article at Trout Underground by Tom Chandler on winter layering. In it, he briefly mentions that the fly fishing industry is not quite yet on the bandwagon with ultralight gear.

This got me thinking. My brother, an avid backpacker, suggested I try GoLite for fly fishing winter layering.

Passing the new GoLite store here in Colorado Springs, I had made three assumptions. Expensive, pretentious, high price tag, and just another retail chain.

Actually, GoLite is a small, (rapidly growing) company founded in Boulder, CO. (Somewhat close to home, so I could justify giving it a chance. I like to buy local.)

GoLite specializes in extremely light, super warm, affordable layering for hiking and camping. Everything GoLite sells is virtually weightless, soft, puffy—And will bake you.

What was amazing to me—the price tags. The store manager said this is because they sell direct, so their prices are much lower than what you’d expect from a quality gear shop.

Here’s what I nabbed for layering—

Like a fly fishing shell, the Wind River Softshell has and “up and down” zipper (open from the bottom or the top) for controlling heat. Although not created for fly fishing, I was surprised to find discover it had two huge storage pockets perfect for fly boxes, a thumb hole lining, water tight velcro cuffs, and its nicely cut for a woman’s curves. Its stretchy—not “crunchy” like a lot of bulky shells.Its also wind proof and water proof.

For underneath, I chose their 100% recycled poly Cady Synthetic Insulated jacket. A diehard goose down girl (I like to be warm—Reeally warm), I cannot believe how toasty yet breathable this jacket is—Its feather light but really cooks me.

Recycled poly will still keep me warm if it gets wet. And I have been known to fall into a river or two…

Grand total for both? $147.00 dollars. Not bad.

The jacket stores into a tiny pouch, small enough to go into a large fanny pack. Shown here next my favorite coffee mug, pike by Jeff Currier.

One thing about GoLite jackets. I would not fish in one without a shell. The ultra thin jacket fabric looks and feels like its no match for a fly hook.

I am looking more seriously at the whole Ultralight concept now when shopping for gear. As an alternative to the top of the line gear, GoLite is a close second in my book for fly fishing winter layering.

As a beginner to fly fishing, I had access to my fly shop, guides, how to books, and trial and error on Colorado’s streams and rivers. The trout bug firmly embedded, I was on the hunt for all I could learn, all I could read, everywhere I could fish, and all the equipment I could buy.

Sometime during that initial fever, I discovered John Gierach on the book shelves at Anglers Covey fly shop. After only two pages I realized I had found a gold mine.

John Gierach writes short essays about his observations as a fly fisherman. They are comical, short and accessible. And if you are paying attention, there is also a lot you can learn about fly fishing.

So without further ado, here are the ten top reasons why any fly fishing beginner…Heck, any fly fisherman for that matter, should read John Gierach.

ONE. John’s stories introduce you, without pretense, into the fly fishing subculture.

“…I actually fly fished for quite a while before I realized it was possible to get snookered by certain writers, fly shop clerks and self styled experts; people who, in order to make money or jump-start their egos wanted to make this look like only a genius could do it.
But then I began to run into some real experts—you know, people who just knew how to catch fish. They share a little trick here, maybe a new angle there, and say things like, “Just keep foolin’ around and you’ll get the hang of it.”
Twenty some years later I’m still foolin’ around and I do think I am starting to get the hang of it.” Little Flies, Another Lousy Day In Paradise

TWO. If you read between the lines of his stories, he is also filling you in on many great places to fish.

“I’ve done DePey’s (pronounced “DeePews”) spring creek and it was great: a small, weed choked stream full of trout, funky fisherman’s shack with a picture window, wood stove and fly-tying desk, and a genuine river keeper name Robert Auger who seemed to enjoy his work immensely. Its a lesser-known creek in the same beautiful Yellowstone Valley with Nelson’s and Armstrong’s. There are Russell Chatham landscapes everywhere you look, and you can get on the water sooner than two years from now.” The Chairman’s Bass, Sex, Death, and Fly Fishing

THREE. With experience we enjoy our routines; Yet, there are also new things, and new types of fish, to try. For instance, on carp fishing…

“Them are carp you know.”
“Yeah, we know,” we said in unison.
“Okay,” the guy said and he and his friend walked away.
So, although I’ve come to think of these critters as big, handsome, graceful, intelligent, wary fish with a kind of quiet, understated classiness about them, they’re still “just carp” and most people can’t understand why you’d want to catch them. It makes it hard to to take all this seriously—and thats how fishing should be. If people don’t occasionally walk away from you shaking their heads, you’re probably doing something wrong.” Carp, Another Lousy Day in Paradise

FOUR. His observations will prepare you for different rivers and the best time to fish them.

“The [Frying] Pan is a quick, jumbled river in a steep, bright, rufous-colored canyon with lots of trees. On a clear day it’s red, green, and ice water blue. In the fourteen miles from Ruedi Dam to the confluence with the Roaring Fork, you’ll find every kind of water you’d ever want to fish. The trout are very big.
In February you check into a motel, using as an excuse the fact that the Little Maud Campground up by the dam is closed for the winter, but secretly relieved to have a warm place to sleep after those cold days on the water. …”
Rivers, Sex, Death and Fly-Fishing

FIVE. His stories will grow with your skill level and interest. Reread Gierach again as you advance in the sport, you will appreciate his information in a whole new way.

“One of the first signs that you have home water is that a kind of simplicity creeps into the fishing you do there. You probably started out clanking around in the full vest and waders, but by now, through trial and error, you’ve pared things down to a single small fly box containing maybe a dozen patterns, plus clippers and spare spool of tippet. You may also notice that you’re catching more fish than you used to. This is a simple function of familiarity—you’ve learned where the fish will be, when they’ll bite, and what they’ll bite on—but the general idea of shedding superfluous baggage and doing better with less is something your may begin to ponder.” Home Water, No Shortage of Good Days

SIX. Everything you are experiencing, head games, good and bad days, obsessing over one fish for an entire afternoon—all normal, no matter how long you have been fly fishing.

On winter fishing…

“Except for 40 minutes or so, the river is dead. You don’t see many fish, and those few you do see are sitting on the bottom like waterlogged branches, not feeding, not moving, possibly not even entirely conscious.
That happens a lot in the winter, so you learn to fish casually and at at a reasonable pace so you’re not all burned out and frustrated when something happens—who knows what?—And, for a few minutes at least, the fish bite.
Most days it really does happen. Everyone who has anything resembling the right fly in the water catch a fish or two before it shuts down again. You’ll hear theories about why that happens from people who have a pathological need for theories—the most popular one now has to do with drift migration patterns of aquatic insect larvae—but no theory makes makes it predictable or explains the days when it doesn’t happen. In the end, its a mater of blind faith and a light rod you can cast all day.” The Voice, Another Lousy Day In Paradise

SEVEN. The sometimes pretentious element of fly fishing will no longer intimidate you.

“…I, for one, have this idea that constant exposure to the ordinary is good for the soul. I have met some high-brow fishermen who bragged that they only fished at the best places with the best guides at the best times of year and who claimed to not only always catch fish, but to always catch lots of real big ones. If true, a life without drama must be awfully boring and if false—as you have to suspect—then lugging around an ego that requires that much preening must be a terrible burden. In the end, the best fishermen I know have all finally developed a kind of professional polish without losing the hopeless goofiness of the beginner.” Third Rate Trout Streams, No Shortage of Good Days

EIGHT. Its perfectly acceptable to use the transition phrase “So anyway,…” at the start of a paragraph, and still be a respected and successful published author.

Thank you John for breaking that barrier.

NINE. Anyone can follow John’s stories, even if you are not an advanced fisherman.

“Naturally, the most effective way to expertise isn’t to hold forth in front of an audience (unless you actually happen to be a genuine expert) but do the exact opposite, that is, keep your mouth shut and just assume the pose.”

….“I’d advise against it, but if you really do want to set yourself up as an expert, all you have to do is stop talking about how you catch fish and begin referring to your “system.” It works every time.” Expertizing, Sex, Death and Fly Fishing

TEN. His observations will stay with you throughout the sport, prepare you for any “drive-by”

Gierach was the first to explain to me that every fisherman has their own definition of a fly fishing “purist”. Nowadays, when another fisherman frowns at my two, or three, fly technique and proclaims “Well, I only ever fish with one fly.” I have a defense. “I only fish with cat gut. You?”

Recently I met John for the first time at the fly fishing show in Denver. Like walking onto a stream and suddenly getting into a big fish on a first cast, my mind went suddenly blank. All I could do was shake his hand and tell him, “You have really influenced me as a writer and fly fisherman. I’ve read all of your books.” So. So. Lame.

So I hope this article makes up for it.

Oh well, so anyway, at least I got the “grab and grin”…

Recently I was attending the Denver Fly Fishing show, and my friend and fly fishing mentor Rick brought up the subject of “cree hackle”. In all the chaos and “sparkly” objects distracting my attention, I didn’t catch everything he said right away.

Rick is the finest fly fisherman I have ever known, so I usually pay a lot more attention. Er, you could say I hang on every word.

Soon he was having a chat with Charlie Craven about whether he was expecting in any cree. Charlie said he had two coming in, and that he could hold one for my friend.

Apparently, cree hackle rarely makes it to the shelves at a fly shop? Cree hackle is usually sold before it comes in. At that point I started to pay attention.

So why do fly fisherman covet cree? Why do they pay $60- $120 a saddle? And up to $250 for a skin? Why do breeders usually have them sold before the chicks are even hatched?

Rick explained. Cree hackle is a type of rooster saddle feather with a coloration that combines brown, ginger and grizzly hackle into one feather (grizzly hackle has black and white stripes, which is believed to emulate bugs’ wing motion—just a theory). Cree combines both movement and the full spectrum of desirable colors.

Cree hackle coloring happens when it happens. DNA specialists know how to create them, but success is still somewhat random. Much like trying to recreate a calico cat. You are never quite sure how the next one with turn out.

“Whenever I come across a nice cree hackle I buy it, although they are usually very expensive.” Rick said.

Rick explained how he uses it in his fly tying: “I use cree on my caddis, both elk hair and CDC versions.  I also use cree on some midges and to a lesser extent, on western mayflies.  Cree is great for the classic Adams pattern or derivatives thereof.  Rather than using a grizzly and brown hackles, you simply use a single cree hackle.  This translates into easier tying, less bulky and frankly, a better look.”

He told me about his collection. “Prices for cree vary according to the quality of the neck or saddle.  The Bronze Cree from Whiting I have was around $65-70; it’s a beauty!  Whiting has several grades ranging from Platinum (rare) to Bronze (common).  Price-wise $120 to mid-$60s.  Also, saddles come is various sizes such as 12-14, 14-16, 18-22.  The cree I have is for small flies… 18 on down.  Because cree is rare, the prices are often higher than the more common & abundant colors like dun, brown, grizzly, etc.”

Here are some photos of Rick’s collection.

Here is cree used on his elk hair caddis

I have fished his CDC caddis with cree, and it killed ‘em. His caddis will never make the cover of fly tying magazines, but they work.

Its important that you clip the hackle flat on the CDC and deer hair caddis, making the legs lie “splat” flat on the water.

As a fly fisherman, I have learned through experience to avoid making “never-never always-always” statements. However, I have to say, now I always fish with Rick’s CDC caddis, instead of my usual deer/elk hair caddis patterns.

I don’t know if its the fly, its presentation, or the cree. Or both. But the fish love ‘em.

Thanks Rick for all your information and your photos. Gratitude.

Sisters on the Fly is a surprisingly large, social club of women who acquire, renovate and decorate small vintage trailors, then caravan together across the country fly fishing, horseback riding, and fund raising. They have found a way to incorporate art, graphics, fly fishing and travel into one, great, big social funfest.

This year, while attending the 2013 Denver Fly Fishing Show, I turned a corner, and there are the Sisters! I am an interior designer by trade, so getting a chance to step into a few of these vintage, “cottage chic” mini trailors was a fantasy come true.

My reaction. Cozy. Surprisingly roomy for one. The table was comfortable for two. A lot of the original, retro features were blended with new and clever modern features.

The miniature appliances were amazing. One still had the original aqua, drop in mini gas range and mini fridge.

Another had a new granite counter top, new wood floor, and instant hot water dispenser.

A cozy, mobile, rustic cabin. Heaven for the fly fishing woman!

This Christmas, if you have a fly fisherman on your gift list, I recommend Dr. Slick’s Extra Hand Tweezer.

Every once in awhile a new gadget comes along that any fly fisherman, beginner or advanced, would love to own.

I know. It doesn’t sound very exciting—just a tweezer? But for fly fishermen, well…this type of gift makes us absolutely giddy.

Its a tiny 2 1/4” hummingbird of a device; a portable and precise set of hackle pliers. Its a squeeze open tweezer that you can hook onto your vest, and it will grab and hold onto anything.

For instance, it’ll hold a small size 20 fly while you rig another, hold two flies on a line of tippet while you grab another with your forceps, hold one fly while you blow the silicone off another, hold something quick while you look for what you just dropped…you get the idea. The possibilities are endless.

Angler’s Covey has them in stock. Or you can visit Dr. Slick Co for a dealer near you.

Have a Merry Christmas. See you on the water again soon.

Paralleling my lengthening crows feet, my fly rods and reels have begun to show the effects of time, weather and wear.

I love the convenience of bringing my gear to the fly shop for manufacturer repair, but what if I am on a long vacation, out in the middle of nowhere, and something goes wrong? It could ruin the trip.

Recently, I have learned that many DIY (do-it-yourself) field repairs are quite easy! Most repairs are intuitive, and require easy-to-find, inexpensive materials. To my knowledge, there is no pre-packaged, fly fishing repair kit on the market.

Here is a list of supplies in my fly fishing repair kit, along with a few tips:

(Please keep in mind these tips are in no way a replacement for manufacturer repairs. Some of these field repairs may void your warranty; Its best to be familiar with your manuals and warranties first.)

Extra tip tops and snake guides to match my rod sizes:
These can be purchased online at any “build your own” rod supply shop for a few dollars. To remove a broken rod tip top, heat the metal with a lighter and gently but firmly lift it off. (Patience is a virtue here.) Next, replace it with the new tip top using ferrule cement.

Ferrule cement (and a lighter):
Ferrule cement is my new best friend! It comes in a stick and is ideal for many repairs because it can easily be removed later for a proper repair at a fly shop or by the manufacturer.

Simply melt the tip of the ferrule cement with a lighter and place the melted “goo” onto the rod tip. Slip the new tip top on and rub off the remaining cement that oozes out when you secure the tip.

Be sure the tip is aligned with the other guides before finally securing it! (If you do make an error, you can simply reheat and adjust.) Ferrule cement dries fast, so you can get back to fishing quickly!

It can also be used to repair a wader pinhole if you don’t have a patch kit. Be sure the wader pinhole is dry. Heat the stick and “goo it” over the pinhole. Repeat on the inside of the wader.

(You can also whittle a ferrule cement sticks down to a fine tip if you want to use a smaller amount.)

Whitewater rafting tape:
Tougher and more water resistant than duct tape. It can be used as a temporary wader patch, if you don’t have a patch kit. The area must be dry. Simply place a piece of whitewater rafting tape over the hole or tear, inside and outside. Remove the tape later to properly patch the hole using a patch repair kit. Cotol 240 can be used to remove the tape adhesive.

Whitewater rafting tape can also be used to secure loosened felt on a wading boot (that is, if you still have a felt pair; they are no longer recommended) Start at the top of the boot and wrap around several times to secure the felt.

Electrician’s tape:
Is your reel getting loose from your rod frequently? Your butt cap may have become loose. Electricians tape will secure it. Mount your reel first, secure it like you normally would, and then wrap it tight as a whole.

Spool of GSP (gel spun thread) and fiberglass tape:
Gel spun thread is used to make smooth, light, yet strong repairs to you rod. If you have a chip in your rod, a split, or if a guide becomes loose, secure these with wraps of fiberglass tape, and then wrap over the tape with thread wraps. Secure the thread with another layer of fiberglass tape. It won’t be pretty, but it should hold well.

Wader patch kit:
This should include Aquaseal and Cotol-240 Cure Accelerator.
Aquaseal is a paint-on, liquid rubber that dries thick and permanent. Cotol240 Cure Accelerator Cotol 240 will speed the drying process and can also be used to remove ferrule cement.

Aqualseal can also be used to patch a cracked fly line. Expose the crack by bending the line, fill it with a dab of Aquaseal, straighten it out and let it dry.

Razor blades:
Great for scraping off old glue and glazes before you do a field repair.

Reel lubricant:
If your reel suddenly sounds like a pepper mill when you reel in or let line out, chances are you have gravel in or around the drag system. Remove the spool and rinse both in clean water. Wipe dry with a clean rag and if necessary, add a little reel lubricant.

If you have a “sealed drag system” chances are it won’t be necessary to completely disassemble it to remove gravel. Its sealed, so nothing can get inside. If you see gears and mechanisms exposed, this is called disc drag system, and you will need to work a little harder to get all the gravel out by disassembling more of the device. (This is exactly why a sealed drag system is the best way to go, and worth the higher upfront investment)

A variety of screw drivers:
Many reels are made out of aluminum or other soft metals because of their light weight. Aluminum is very soft and strips very easily! Using the wrong size screw driver can strip threads and permanently damage your reel.

Extra bootlaces, or a paracord bracelet:
See my post on making your own paracord bracelet.

Safety pins:
I always have a safety pin on my vest, in my truck visor, in my kit—everywhere. They are great for getting glue out of the eye of a fly, joining a damaged nylon strap, or acting as a temporary zinger.

A multi tool:
These come in infinite varieties. I tend to like the kind that are not too bulky and expensive, and not too tiny either. I use the pliers of my multitool all the time, especially to reverse a reel for a left hander.

Eyeglass repair kit:
Polarized sunglasses are essential for eye protection and for site fishing. A tiny screw driver can also come in handy for gear repairs.

Line cleaner:
Good for cleaning out cracks before repair, or just to improve the performance of your floating fishing line.

A bag of clean rags:
I like the skimpy ones that come in a bag at paint stores, where I can get into nooks and crannies easily and then just toss them when they get too dirty.

A penny:
Yes, a penny. Sometimes a penny is just the right size to open a quick release cap.

Clean piece of dark colored felt: Sometimes I have a left handed customer and need to reverse a reel. I use a patch of black felt to lay out the tiny parts. If you lose a tiny retainer or bearing, you are out of luck.

So there you have it. Your DIY fly fishing repair kit is set! I would love to hear comments and other repair tips from my readers.

Professor Joseph Levent noticed something slightly odd about his four year old daughter, when he’d taken her on a trip to the White Mountains in northeast Arizona.

(The White Mountains is home to the White Mountain Apache Indian Tribe, who have lived there for thousands of years. Their land covers over 2,628 square miles of magnificent forest land. Mount Baldy is their most sacred mountain, overlooking the reservation at 11,403 feet. The White Mountains have also always been home to the native Apache trout.

This trout is identified by a black dot on either side of its pupil, creating the effect of straight line stripe through its eye.)

At dawn, Joseph’s daughter would lift his heavy tackle box from the table, grab a rod, exit the cabin and head down to the Little Colorado River. Fearless, she planted herself along the creek’s edge, and would begin to devise her tiny, imaginary strategies to catch fish.

There she would remain all day, her pink coat just a dot by evening dusk when he’d call her in, her face and coat now soiled and eyelids heavy. Small Apache trout and rainbows filled her small pouch.

My father, a young college professor, and on a tight family budget, chose the White Mountains as our summer vacation spot to get away from desert heat of Phoenix.

Many fly fisherman don’t think to include Arizona on their radar screen. When in fact, the White Mountains of northeastern Arizona offer many beautiful trout filled streams, tailwaters and lakes. For stream fishing, The Black River (east and west forks), the Little Colorado and Silver Creek are probably your best bet.

During those summers, I was the same heighth as the wildflower fields, the bowed heads of cattle, gnarled wood fences, the wandering goats, foxes and mice. My father didn’t want to take us to Disneyland. Not only because he wasn’t one for crowds, but because he wanted us to live Disneyland.

Once, the professor tried to help her with her rod—patiently offering a minor adjustment to her reel. She pulled the rod away from him, threw it to the ground, and trudged back up the hill to the cabin, squeezing her tight fists. Bouncing blonde curls and fury.

For a moment he was hurt. He realized then, when it came to streams, this particular child had a fierce independence, wanting to fight her own battle through the process.

(Well, sometimes I did. After all, I was only four…)

One summer both my grandfathers joined us, and one particular night after dinner, my Grandfather Joe decided to make a cast indoors after repairing his rod. His fly hook caught the shoulder of my flannel pajamas.

I froze in my stance, terrified, screaming and beginning to implode. The fly wriggled on the line as it was tugged by accident, the hook barely breaking the skin.

My grandfather hands shook and he muttered excuses as he struggled for a tool to press the barb down and remove the hook from my quivering shoulder.

Then I turned, and in an instant, my father was holding a small piece of flannel in one hand, his fishing knife in the other. He had sliced the fly out.

He smiled. There were things I needed my father to be there for. Important things.

He rested the fly in my hand. He did not want me to fear its little hook.

By eight years old, I was fishing alongside my grandfathers, brother and father. I’d explore for hours, trails, other creeks, returning at nightfall. By this age, I had learned to ask questions, to copy their techniques, and not to go too far.

When I was approx nine, I was walking home at sunset with a chain full of trout. It started to rain.

Droplets pattered on my poncho, slowly increasing in frequency. Suddenly at that moment, all of me, was one. The sky opened up, not in front of my eyes, but in a sliver of time, and inside of me. I had no fear.

There was no past or future. Only each droplet of rain. And for a moment I heard them all.

I learned later that what I had experienced was what philosopher Kierkegaard called an “existential moment”. If you have experienced an existential moment, you know it, and know exactly when others are telling you of their similar experience. Like fly fishing, its sort of private club you never signed up for, but glad you are a member. And you welcome the experience again.

Because of my father’s respect for my independence, I had one of the greatest moments a child, or adult, or guru who has spent a lifetime in meditation, can hope to experience.

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My independent streak continues to this day. Currently I am reading Orvis’s book on how to repair my own gear. I will be sharing some of what I have learned in the coming weeks. My favorite reel has started to sound like a pepper mill, and my fly line that is no longer floating. I have recently noticed that my gear has started to age.