“If fishing is a religion, fly fishing is high church.” — Tom Brokaw
Like most hobbies, fishing, and particularly fly fishing, can be tainted by a certain degree of “snobbery”. Use these ten archetypes as a gauge of where you lie on the fishing purity spectrum, and to help you predict whether you will end up in fish heaven or not.
Don’t be surprised if you see yourself in many, or all of these characters; most people start and end their fishing careers at different points in this scale.
THE 10 LEVELS OF FISHING PURITY
The snagger: Technique and morality matter not to this beast. Their fishing pole is the thickness of a broomstick, and their reel is probably lined with sixty-pound braid and topped with a weighted treble hook. Scarcely found without a garbage bag nearby, they treat the river like a fish market. Usually sans license.
The blasphemer: The baitcasting, lip-ripping bass and pike addict who throws lures bigger than most of the trout you catch. This person does not own a fly rod and never will. Why would they? Their reel can throw a crankbait a quarter of a mile at Mach 1.
The heretic: Only ever uses spin gear but prefers to fish for Salmonids. They are not above bait and think fly fishing is only for old dudes in vests. Uses streamers sometimes when trolling (albeit on their spin rod).
The unanointed: Considers themself a fly-fisherman but mostly just trolls streamers behind a canoe or belly boat with their fly rod. Throws around more Norman Maclean quotes than fly casts. Starting to get into catch and release.
The defector: Transitioned to fly-fishing later in life but still keeps a spin rod handy in case the wind picks up, or he can’t find an area to back cast. Not above using wet flies, indicators, and split shot if it will help them catch a fish. Looks forward to the next “streamer hatch.”
The “purist”: Will tell anyone willing to listen that they are fly-only and preaches “no lead, ever.” Their spin rods are hidden in the shed and are not spoken of. Their Toyota Tacoma has more bumper stickers on it than the back of a ski town stop sign, and the inside of their Yeti cooler has never touched anything besides craft beer because “killing trout is murder, bro.”
The clergyman: Has a strong bias for split cane rods and silk lines because “that’s the way fly fishing was meant to be.” Exclusively uses classic fly patterns tied with natural materials and tends to quote Izaak Walton until people stop listening. Secretly wishes he were fishing an English chalk stream, and is probably wearing tweed right now.
The geezer: Fishes dry flies only because he genuinely catches more fish this way. He ties his own flies and probably invented a couple along the way by accident. Knows the Latin names of every bug hatch in his area, but refuses to use them around the company. He does better than anyone on the water but always shows humility when asked. Isn’t above taking the odd fish for a meal from time to time.
Related: Minimalism and Fly Fishing
The enlightened one: Without rod or reel, this fisherman searches rivers and lakes with a stick and a worm (or grasshopper). The word “Simms” means nothing to them, and their tackle box consists of one item: hooks. This legend is usually either below the age of ten years old or over eighty.
The almighty: This guy has forgotten more about fish than you will ever know. They spend more time swimming in rivers than their lines do. They like fish more than fishing and can see them better if they are underwater themselves. Secretly wishes he was a fish.
CONCLUSION
Fly fishing isn’t unique in its ability to attract snobs and “purists.” Cycling, photography, wine, fashion, and so on all have their own gangs of so-called “sophisticates.” It seems to happen to hobbies that have lots of history, expensive gear, and opinions on the right ways to do things. Have you ever heard of a knitting snob? I didn’t think so.
“If we carry purism to it’s logical conclusion, to do it right {fishing} you’d have to live naked in a cave, hit your trout on the head with rocks, and eat them raw. But, so as not to violate another essential element of the fly-fishing tradition, the rocks would have to be quarried in England and cost $300 each. – John Gierach
There’s nothing wrong with being a “fly only” person or following your own rules. For many, it’s just a way to keep things interesting. That kind of tinkering is common in any hobby. Just so long as you’re decent about it and not too hard on others, I’d say it’s all fair.
