Jacob is a fly fishing guide with a passion for conservation and brook trout. He is an accomplished rod builder and restorationist.
Jillian is an outdoor photographer and blogger, using her voice for Public Lands and Cold Water Conservation. She specializes in trying to out fish jacob whenever she puts the camera down.
There's not a day that goes by where Jacob and I don't discuss rod building, doesn't matter if we're out to eat or out fishing a beautiful creek; we will compare reel seats, match guides, mentally plane a rod, or complain about a scarce thread for wrapping. These are regular days, in typical situations.
When you hurry through you aren't enjoying it, not really. The adventure turns into a "to-do," the experience is lost. You're trying to accomplish something, mark it off a list, feel successful. Living life this way is not beneficial, and fishing should take place slowly and thoughtfully.
Life isn't always about grand adventures, sometimes it's about enjoying the little things, taking your time, and being happy with where you are.
There's a river that flows not far from the house. It's the one that Jacob and I fish most often, mostly due to proximity and easy access. Not all days can be spent on hour long hikes, although I wish that they could be. We've followed this river for years now, trudging from top to bottom, in sun, rain, and snow. I guess it's appropriate to call it our home waters.
The morning light is filtered and grey and ominous. The kind that reaches out and covers everything, from the tops of the mountains to the bottom of the valleys.
The air is heavy and wet, not quite raining, but nowhere near dry either. It's not that cold out, but the dampness makes it almost unbearable. Layers upon layers are applied. You fill up your travel mug with the hottest coffee you can stand.
You question your sanity.
My fishing career began like most others, dunking worms. Just a couple of years old, with pigtails and bangs, pink spinning rod, and a squirming creature at the end of a hook. My grandfather was a proud spinner fisherman, never picked up a fly rod and never wanted to. He got me out on the water; he was the reason I developed a fascination with fish. But, my tender child heart soon turned from fascination to complete horror. Not only was I to rip worms in half, but then we were hooking a fishing for our sick human pleasure? Um, no thank you. At the time, as far as I was concerned, my fishing career ended at the young age of four.
Recently I've been working on some really fun, tapered rod bags.
These are great for builders looking for a more "vintage" bag or fitting some of the smaller diameter rod tubes on the market. The top of the bag is the same as my signature standard rod bag, then tapers down to a much smaller width at the bottom.
I've come to view fishing as being a burdensome activity. Yup, I admitted it, going fishing is no longer fun. That's a pretty extreme thing for a fly fishing blogger to confess, but I do, wholeheartedly.
I've kept my fishing stuff neatly stored away in the corner of my office, and it taunts me every time I see it out of the corner of my eye. I feel guilty about it. I feel like a fraud every time I open my computer or post a photo of a decorated trout.