”I’m still waiting to find another human who knows what that (fly fishing addiction) really means…….” Via a comment left within my website from Bigerrfish (a recently reformed fly fishing addict) who aptly writes the fly fishing blog: BigerrFish.
Fly Fishing Addict — Or — Fly Fishing Addiction. Does the meaning of Addict truly represent the deep and undeterred, never quite satisified desire some of us angler internally feel when it comes to our fishing time? Or has the lack of an adequate word simply forced the passionate angler to use the shallow, but powerful and implied emphasis the word addiction gives off?
Now, I haven’t necessarily liked describing myself as a fly fishing addict, but I’ve done it, because it’s a cheap and easy expression to let others know, “Hey, I’m not screwing around here. If you take away my flies or fly rod I’ll break your arm first and ask questions later.” See, isn’t that sweet of me? Is that the mentality of an addict? Probably.
But in all honesty, after a quick Google search on true addictions, it’s clear I’m not an addict. What I do isn’t a detriment to my life. My fly fishing doesn’t harm me and it doesn’t hurt or harm the people around me….unless they count boring them with fish stories a form of torture.
Yes, I sneak off and fly fish alone a lot, but it isn’t secretive and I don’t spend the kids college money to do it. Yes I’ve skipped work or other responsibilities for an afternoon on the river, but I didn’t lose my job or friends. I suppose if I forgot all my fly boxes at home I’d probably get a bit frothy around the mouth (withdrawal) but I wouldn’t knock the first fly fisherman I saw in the head with a rock to steal his flies. My froth would be a civilized non-addict meltdown.
So if I take away the addiction implication, I recognize I am still left with a non-negotiable, insatiable need that doesn’t provide an appropriate word to define it. Fly Fishing is the first thing that comes to mind when I realize I have 2 extra hours to myself in a day. It’s also the first thing that comes to mind when I’m feeling sad, frustrated, happy, pissed, lousy or fantastic. It seems, no matter what scenario I encounter, everything falls under the damn good reason to go fishing category. A bit like the alcoholic who finds every reason from self soothing to celebration for a beer.
I’ll assume some of us, past and present, have choosen the questionable phrase of fly fishing addict to express to the outside world that we cannot live without our fly fishing. (Well, maybe I could, but ho-boy I would turn into a snarling gnarly monster to live with) I believe it’s an innocent attempt at letting others know their fishing goes beyond a weekend summer activity. Like an addict, their fishing is a need that remains near the surface of daily thought, never completely satisfied or resolved…..only impatiently postponed until the next (hit) trip.
So today, I admit, I don’t know what a Fly Fishing Addict really means, so I’ll no longer use it to describe myself.
Like Bigrrfish asked, does anyone?
However, I do know I’m a fly fishing something or other, who looks forward to a lifetime of trying to figure it out.