I grew up along the American river in Northern California, and returned this weekend with my son. We saw some guys fly fishing, as I always did growinig up. As my 5 year old was talking to them and asking to see the flies, etc, it dawned on me that in years and years of watching guys fly fish, I have never seen them actually catch a fish.
So I asked a group of guys, all decked out in beautiful and expensive Orvis and Simms gear, casting their Leica rods with Schneider lines and Hassalbad engineered flies, what they caught on that day.
Nothing. That's not the point, they explained. The point is to be there hip deep in icy water, casting.
For about a second I was amused, and then I instantly flashed to all the times I have been hip deep in sunset lit grass somewhere, Arca Swiss and unblinking Rodenstock ready, "casting" for a fish that has yet to adorn my wall or someone else's wall or even an album.
Why we do what we do...