The beauty of trout fishing is that it inspires hope. Plain and simple. That’s where it all starts and ends.
Think about it. Every cast you make ignites a tiny little episode of hope.
![](https://www.tu.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Hope-is-what-keeps-bringing-anglers-back-time-after-time-1024x632.jpg)
You drop that cast right near the spot where you saw a trout rise a moment before, and what’s the first thing you feel? Hope. You flick a lure behind the log where you think that big fish lives, and for a brief instant, you feel hope. With every strip of a fly line as you fish a streamer, what’s flashing through your mind—whether you realize it or not—is… hope. Over a day on the water, that might add up to hundreds, maybe thousands of mini doses of hope.
![](https://www.tu.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Each-beautiful-fish-is-enough-hope-to-go-back-to-the-river-again-1024x678.jpg)
Is it any wonder why people who are working through issues like illness, depression, addiction, isolation, PTSD and more, find solace and comfort through fishing? It’s because of those accumulated bits of hope; they matter. Hope changes lives.
Cast Hope www.casthope.org might just be the most aptly named, fish-related organization in the world. But there are many others that fit the bill, from Project Healing Waters to The Mayfly Project, Casting for Recovery and many, many more.
The best part is—hope is free. Anyone can make their own hope through fishing. You don’t need a fancy rod and reel. You don’t have to be an expert caster… or fly tier… or hatch-matcher to have hopes.
![](https://www.tu.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/KenaiMK-142-683x1024.jpg)
You don’t even have to actually catch fish for the hope factor to have effect. In fact, if you caught a fish on every cast, it wouldn’t be about hope—it would be about expectations, and how fun would that be? Of course, it’s also no fun to spend a day only hoping you don’t get hung up on the river bottom or snagged in the bushes. But without knowing disappointment, you cannot really know hope. Discard the frustration, accentuate the positive, and know that a little bit of success here and there—watching that fish inhale your fly off the surface or feeling the tug on your line—definitely primes the pump.
When you do hook up, one episode of hope replaces another—you go from “I hope that fish eats it” to “I hope I can land this one!” When it all works… well, you build a clearer picture in your mind of what you’re really hoping for. The more you fish, the stronger hope grows.
![](https://www.tu.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Heres-to-hoping-that-bear-is-headed-the-other-way-1024x683.jpg)
Eventually, we land at a place where we aren’t just hoping about catching fish. We hope to share the experience with others. We hope to see the eyes light up when a person we mentor starts to connect with the hope factor of fishing.
When I have a crummy day, sometimes I’ll go find the river, just to feel hope. Sure, I hope to catch a few fish. But I also hope to see something wild. I hope to learn something. I hope to remember fun times fishing. And I hope to think about the people dear to me. It usually works out just fine.
![](https://www.tu.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Casting-towards-a-rise-brings-hope.-photo-by-Tim-Romano-1024x676.jpg)
I hope more anglers will take care of rivers. I hope my great grandchildren will be able to experience fishing and build their own hopes.
Sure… it’s just fishing. But for many of us, fishing means much, much more than just pulling on fish.
We could all use a little more hope in this world.
I hope you understand.