My friend and I are determined to change the #flymoms representation on Instagram to pictures of fly fishing moms, verses moms just looking really cool. I don’t doubt those moms are way cool, but there is just something special about fly moms, the fly fishing kind. We are strange, we do crazy things with our kids, we take every opportunity to fish, oh and we a kind of in love with fish in a strange way (in a way that those who don’t fish just kind of don’t get).
The other day I saw a friend I have not seen in years. She asked me what I was up to and said, with a strange tone, ‘looks like you fish a bunch’. I’m like, yeah, I kind of do. I immediately felt like I should justify my time spent fishing by saying, ‘it connects me with nature’, or ‘it’s so great to take my kids out on the river, they love it’. They don’t always love it, I don’t always take them with me, and in the scheme of ‘a bunch’, I fish maybe 10% of what I consider ‘a bunch’. Being a #flymom is just hard to explain to the real world, but if you are one, I salute you. (I’m also so thankful to have met more fly moms this last year through blogging and friend requesting random people on facebook. 🙂
I thought about fly moms the other day. I was on a quick work break, coming back from a meeting, and my boss and I pulled over to fish for a bit. I was in black pants, a lady shirt with a black cardigan, and one of those long necklaces. It took me less than 5 minutes to get my rod rigged up and my streamer ready for action. I took my long work necklace off so I could fit on my fly bag, and gave a little snicker. If I could just throw that necklace in the river, I would, but I got it at Kohls and I spend money on fly fishing gear more than girly things. 😉
Just as I always do, I ditched the person I was with and made a bee line to the stretch of water I was eyeballing while getting ready. It had been 2 weeks since I caught a fish, which to normal people sounds really lame, but to fly moms, it sounds really desperate. This is me in my mom clothes, I changed the color to hide my wrinkles…
First cast out into the blown-out spring river, with an olive cone head wooly bugger, I didn’t get a hit on the swing, but as I was pulling my streamer out of the water I saw a fish jump for it. I threw it back in immediately and yelled, ‘come to mama’. The cutthroat hammered that streamer hard. Once I had her on the line, I was a bit nervous about how to land her from the cut-bank up high, while wearing lady boots. It wasn’t long before I decided to just slide down the bank in my mom pants. With one foot in the water and one foot in an inch of mud, I landed that fish like a fly-mom boss #flymoms. She was a good size, maybe 16 inches, but I never measure and I suck at math so I’m pretty sure it was 28 inches.
After that, the hunt was on. I didn’t care if those driving by were confused by my outfit, I never really do care actually. I fished the streamer a few times and got another trout. I do something really strange every time I am catching fish: I catch a few on one thing, then switch to the other, like a science experiment. At that point I was sweating because I was so excited. I saw some fish rising and noticed a salmon fly on the branch next to me. BWO’s and skwallas were dancing in the sky, and fish were slurping. I started to shake a bit as I headed down stream to find a friendlier place to float dries, and then I tied on the biggest salmon fly representation I could find in my fly box. My phone message dinged and reminded me I have kids, or a life separate from fishing. My boots were covered in mud and my mom pants were starting to smell fishy. While debating whether or not to take my cardigan off, and show my white chubby arms, I called my kid’s school to let them know ‘mama is going to be late, he needs to ride that bus’. I was almost the mom that was fishing and forgot to get their kids from school….few, it hasn’t happened…yet.
I took my black jacket off and chucked out the dry fly, floating it right over where I saw one rise while on the phone. BAM! Another one. I looked upstream to make sure my boss, Terry, saw me with my rod dancing around, in my mom clothes. He did, so I reeled it in.
A few more cutthroats landed and our time ‘on break’ was up. This is just how I hope these things go: when I only have a tiny bit of time, the hatch is on and the fish are eating. I dusted off my pants, broke my fly rod down, and put my Kohls necklace back on. I had a bit of sweat in my hair and dirt in my nails, but I was good for another round of work.
Unfortunately, nowadays with work and home life it makes it hard to get away for fishing by myself. I miss it, terribly (I went from 50% to 10%). So that fishy hour was just what I needed. I’m glad to have a fly fishing boss that knew where the water would be hopping, and has strange ideas about fun too. 😉
Cheers to #flymoms, getting out on the water in our mom jeans and getting it done! I love seeing all of my friends doing this, along with the ones that haul their kids to the river no matter what their age! You gals just rock! Oh and thanks for whomever paid for the salmon fly hatch to hit on my lunch break, I owe you big! And also, thanks to my husband who saved the day and got our kid from the bus….he gets flymoms.
~Mammaflybox #flymoms, tag it, you know you want to.