Posted by: Skip Pritchard in Fishing on
Sep 07, 2009
It's that time of year! Days are growing noticeably shorter, the angle of daylight has shifted from that of the high summer sun, evenings are cooler, there's the scent of dew on freshly mown grass, and... I've got a knot in my stomach!
I grew up playing football. It was my passion and it paid for undergraduate and graduate degrees. By the time I was a graduate assistant coaching college ball my senses were conditioned to such a degree that the smell of dew on newly mown grass in late August and early September threw my stomach into turmoil. My body dreaded what was to come...two-a-days, blood sweat and tears, and counting the days before it was all over and we could start hitting someone other than our buddies.
I went to school in Gunnison, Colorado, elevation 7,708 feet above sea level. School started almost 5 weeks after we reported to training camp my senior season. Two-a-days lasted a couple of weeks allowing for three weeks of time to fill after practices... time for fishing. And boy did we fish! It was incredible. Evening temperatures were just right. Rivers and streams cooled as the oncoming winter began its annual embrace of the high country. Bugs were hatching. Fish were fresh, thick, and aggressive having lost their lethargy from the" dog days of summer". Aspen and cottonwood leaves began their annual turning providing backdrops and settings that burned their beauty into my memory. That fall a transition began to take place helping me survive the passing of my youth and days spent on the gridiron. The shift from summer to fall began to signify that it is time to hit the water and throw flies in earnest.
Posted by: Skip Pritchard in Fishing on
Aug 17, 2009
"... it can take a lifetime's worth of attention to learn even half the secrets of a good river, and in our quieter moments that's all a lot of us want for ourselves: something modest but fine."
John Gierarch
Standing in a River Waving a Stick
Why fly fishing?
When asked this a number of folks simply say it's because of the places it takes them. For others it's respite and therapy from the stress of life. For some it's the "purity" of the sport and the connectedness one has to nature. Still others say it's the aesthetic or the art of it all, the grace of casting or the imitating the natural order of things through tying one's own flies. And for some, there's the sense of tradition and timelessness conjured up by images and memories of cane rods, silk lines, and wicker creels.
The same can be asked of our area, "Fly fishing and Walla Walla? Why?"
The Walla Walla Valley and the foothills of the "Blues" with their rivers, streams, and pastoral landscapes provide ample opportunity to answer the "why." For me the answers started coming shortly after moving to Walla Walla. My first year here I spent more time fishing for personal enjoyment than the prior five years combined guiding in Colorado. It was a no-brainer in Colorado, what time was available to fish was spent guiding to make a buck. Don't get me wrong, I loved every minute of it, but guiding is way different than fishing - with one you watch and with the other you catch. With the waters here I learn or discover something new about the area, how to fish it and how to appreciate it, every time I am out. And, it doesn't hurt that I'm catching a lot of fish.
Posted by: Skip Pritchard in Fishing on
Jul 23, 2009
The memory of it eludes me... that first time there was a fish on my line. I'm sure time and distance play a big part in it's being lost. What has remained over the years are indelible memories that make up the tapestry of my love and passion for fishing... my father bringing home a burlap sack full of fish from deep see fishing, fishing from the pier in Oceanside, CA with dad, catching my first Sea Trout, going to Lake Isabella with my grandfather introducing me to crappie and blue gill in Lake Isabella, beating Sam in a Crappie Derby, trying fly fishing with a bobber the first time at Edison Electric Sub-Station #4 with the High Sierra looming over me, winning a Fenwick Fly Rod in billiard game and trying to throw line with it...
What is it about fishing and catching a fish that delights so many of us? It seems that every time I turn around there is a public interest add in a magazine with a child or adult exhorting a parent or loved one to take them fishing. Often I see kids heading to a local park with rod, tackle box, and worm can in hand. It never grows old taking someone out for the first time and watching their reaction as they catch their first fish. Is it the anticipation of catching the "The Big One"? Is it the thrill of having something wild at the other end of one's line? Is the companionship experienced with others? Is the setting, being outdoors and connected to nature? I'm guessing it's a little of each of these with each of us having our unique and personal reason... the fact of the matter is, there are a lot of us that enjoy catching a fish.
