Fly Reorganization
,
When the temperatures plunge to frighteningly low numbers and even the desire to tromp out onto the ice begins to wane, take heart—this is the time to partake in an annual reorganization of your beloved fly collection. This anal-retentive spree has become a regular tradition in my life, typically accompanied by NFL football and my favorite alcoholic elixirs. It is a time to remember fishing adventures now past and dream of angling exploits yet to come; time to exhume old fly boxes from the catacombs of the closet, garage, shed, or wherever that nook in your home completely given over to fly tying might be.
Once the myriad boxes are assembled and within arm reach, you can began sifting through their contents. Storage boxes over here, vest boxes here, boat supply boxes there, streamers, dry flies, nymphs, midges—or, for the really precise, baetis, caddis, terrestrials, Salmon flies… Yes, out springs the inherent human tendency to categorize and label, and it is true that fly reorganization can raise some disturbing questions about one’s own psyche, not to mention saying something profound about the personalities of all those who gravitate to the sport. If you’re like me, by the end of the evening you’ll still be far from finishing the task, and as long as you needn’t concern yourself with pesky kitty-cats or snoopy bird dogs, the reorganizing extravaganza can continue for days.
The payoff is that when the equinox rolls around and the hidden forces of entropy begin their work, you might actually know where to reach for that size #4 brown bugger or #18 blue-winged olive. Just try to get a handle on matters before the temperature climbs into the mid-40s or you’ll wish that you’d just cut to the chase and organized that spring creek box for winter midging.
Once the myriad boxes are assembled and within arm reach, you can began sifting through their contents. Storage boxes over here, vest boxes here, boat supply boxes there, streamers, dry flies, nymphs, midges—or, for the really precise, baetis, caddis, terrestrials, Salmon flies… Yes, out springs the inherent human tendency to categorize and label, and it is true that fly reorganization can raise some disturbing questions about one’s own psyche, not to mention saying something profound about the personalities of all those who gravitate to the sport. If you’re like me, by the end of the evening you’ll still be far from finishing the task, and as long as you needn’t concern yourself with pesky kitty-cats or snoopy bird dogs, the reorganizing extravaganza can continue for days.
The payoff is that when the equinox rolls around and the hidden forces of entropy begin their work, you might actually know where to reach for that size #4 brown bugger or #18 blue-winged olive. Just try to get a handle on matters before the temperature climbs into the mid-40s or you’ll wish that you’d just cut to the chase and organized that spring creek box for winter midging.
