There’s this corny (but true!) saying that describes the “stages” of an angler.
First, you want to catch a fish. Then you want to catch a lot of fish. Then you want to catch a really big fish. Then you want to catch many big fish. And then… when you’ve done all those things… all you really care about is just being out there on the water, and you don’t really care about anything other than that.
Having been through that evolution myself, I’ll transpose that thinking to the types of water any angler might fish.
You start out on the “home river,” for most, a creek or small stream, and you’re thrilled to hook anything at all. Then you venture off to find bigger water, and you might land many. And that pumps you up enough to think about going to chase something in the ocean, or maybe a big trout on some legendary destination river. And then, you decide to go to a wonderland like Alaska (or somewhere similar), where you can catch hefty salmon and leopard rainbows by the score. And once you’ve done all that…
Well, you realize that your favorite place to fish in the whole wide world is that little stream where you started in the first place. And you know in your soul that if you only had one more day to fish anywhere, you’d choose your home water.
“And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time“
– T.S. Eliot
For darn sure, I haven’t given up on going to places where I know I can catch big… or many… or especially, many big fish. But there’s just something about small water. The often-overlooked blue lines on a topo map. Those tiny, nearly anonymous creeks light me up and fill my soul like nothing else.
I’ve come to think that “trophy” fish have almost nothing to do with how fat they are nor how long and everything to do with how wild they are, or even, how native they are.
The small streams are also the best settings to let your mind wander. I do my best writing/thinking on small streams. I sometimes check my brain at the boat ramp when I fish big water.
Think about it.
Are you truly feeling inspired when you show up at a launch and see 50 other trailers? Not like you do when you wade into a creek in total solitude, I’d bet.
The biggest rewards, in my mind, come through fishing the small water… the blue lines… Knowing that what happens in that small water manifests and affects everything that happens for dozens, maybe hundreds, maybe even thousands of miles downstream is icing on the cake.
Small water is inspiring.
Those “blue lines” are also where the work TU does has the greatest effect. That’s why we dedicated an entire issue of TROUT magazine to the theme of blue lines. It should be showing up in your mailboxes any day. I think it might be my favorite issue I’ve edited, and this is number 50.
Until then, please do yourself a favor and fish some blue lines. Enjoy the many wonders of small water.
It’ll make you feel like you’ve come home.