Catching fish is not a mental game between fish and angler. A 'smart' trout is only smarter than other trout, not smarter than a fisherman. An angler must take the puzzle of the day's conditions, and matching those conditions and his knowledge of the fish come up with a good catch. He competes with a concept, not with a fish's brain.
False casting for practice is the best way to achieve the feel of the line in the air, but in actual fishing, false casts should be limited in number to absolute necessity. In the first place, the more false casts you make, the greater are the chances for the fish to see your arm waving, or the line in the air. And the greater are your chances to make a mistake in the cast and lose your timing. Most anglers, especially tyros, false cast too often. Three false casts should be sufficient for any throw and two is better. One... Read more »
These are the technicalities. The jetes and pirouettes.. but the music of the dance lies in the subtle signals between the steps: the fish's delivery of them, the fisherman's read of and response to them, which, if she's good, must be near telepathic. That's what takes a death-grip on your concentration. That's why your mind empties of all trivia, which, when playing a fish, includes just about everything else you could possible think of. That is what anglers live for.
The time must come to all of us, who live long, when memory is more than prospect. An angler who has reached this stage and reviews the pleasure of life will be grateful and glad that he has been an angler, for he will look back on days radiant with happiness, peaks of enjoyment that are no less bright because they are lit in memory by the light of a setting sun.
I went to see every angler on the bank to see how they were doing, to try to give them a few tips or whatever. But yeah, we had a lot of fun. It was definitely a good time and we're definitely going to do it again next year.
The traveler fancies he has seen the country. So he has, the outside of it at least; but the angler only sees the inside. The angler only is brought close, face to face with the flower and bird and insect life of the rich riverbanks, the only part of the landscape where the hand of man has never interfered.
All the charm of the angler's life would be lost but for these hours of thought and memory. All along the brook, all day on lake or river, while he takes his sport, he thinks. All the long evenings in camp, or cottage, or inn, he tells stories of his own life, hears stories of his friend's lives, and if alone calls up the magic of memory.