The Perilous Life of a Fisherwoman

Rippers have to learn to be flexible when weather conditions interfere with plans.  So when monsoon rains prevented me from teeing off one morning with my friends, I headed for the pond, rod in hand.

One of my goals has been to catch a fish with a fly.  Ever since I saw the film, A River Runs Through It, I have longed to recreate the river scenes with me as the leading actor. Luckily, I have access to prime trout streams both in Utah and the Pocono Mountains. 

A while back, pre-Covid, I took advantage of a three-day clinic for women given by the High Country Fly Fishers, a chapter of Trout Unlimited. Patient volunteer instructors taught me how to tie flies and cast, and on the third day we had the privilege of fishing at a beautiful lake on a ranch deep among the canyons. The fish were plentiful but unfortunately I came up empty handed.

Determined to make the best of my investment in gear and an opportunity to recreate safely, I set out again to feel the rush of a “tight line.” I began learning the way I do best, by reading books. Fishing for Dummies reminded me of how to at least sound like a fly fisher and Ian Frazier’s collection of essays, The Fish’s Eye, reminded me of the humor in the sport.  So with a bounce in my step, I headed to the water.

Unbelievably, a few casts were all it took to trick a small brook trout to take my fly. I reeled it in without trouble and instantly felt a keen concern for its life. To my relief, I easily unhooked the fly and released the fish back into pond. Fortunately, I had the wits about me to take a photo of my catch and the smile on my face.

So what about the peril of this pursuit? That came next. My Great Pyrenees pup then took off after a groundhog, which required me to extricate her from its den deep amongst the brambles, which was not an easy feat.  In the melee, my golf skirt (please remember how this day began) was snagged by my fly and indeed; it was I who was caught. What a perfect day for a ripper!