You know what your Momma says, if at first you don’t succeed, try again.
I know losing flies is sort of the price of admission in fly fishing, but I really hate when a fly goes missing.
Maybe it’s the Momma in me who hates to lose one of her tiny kids in the wilds. Or the Sargent in me that insists all her troops return safely to their fly box. Never leave a man err, fly behind.
It could also be the fact that when I first started fly fishing I couldn’t really afford to buy flies and to lose one meant a serious personal blow to my limited fly options. Perhaps I’m still holding onto that frugal mentality all these years later.
Which is why it felt like a mini-celebration when I snapped off a little Zebra midge recently with a bad hook set, retied another Zebra and hooked the fish again.
Best fly retrieval I’ve ever experienced…
Thank You Rachel Morgan for taking pictures!