Fly fishing diaries | How it all started

At the top of my retirement list (the one not in alphabetical order) was learning how to fly fish. I'm not sure why this ended up on the list, but a few years back, while on a road trip through Montana, the idea just kind of got stuck in my head.

My husband was a fly fisherman when we met, and we spent many fun hours at a river or lake, me sitting on the bank with a book while he fished. I loved the beautiful rhythm of fly fishing, but didn't really have any desire to learn. I was content to watch. When we moved to eastern Washington the fishing spots changed to the rivers in the Cascades near White Pass, or the warm lakes near Vantage, or bass fishing on the Columbia. But when we moved back to the west (wet) side, he hung up his rod.

We've always been backroads travelers, keen to take the county roads instead of the highways, the highways instead of the interstates. When we bought our little red roadster in 2005, the need to find the best twisty roads possible led us to explore the Northwest all over again, and every place we went, we started to notice all the potential fly fishing streams and the placid lakes just made for float tubes. Once in a while, we'd stop in at a fly shop, just for fun. But I remained a fly fishing wannabe, until we finally made the decision to retire. And once all those days opened up, the idea of fly fishing really took root.

This weekend it starts:  we're going to Red's in the Yakima Canyon for a pair of fly fishing classes. I can hardly wait!

Dave fishing for sea-run cuththroat
on the beach at Three Tree Point

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