The Game

This weekend I found myself wondering about what it is that I like about flyfishing so much.
It isn't the worlds biggest secret that what I love to do the most with a flyrod in my hand is fishing for brown trout with a dry fly. Unfortunately the reality is that I just cannot do that for the largest part of the year. But is that a reason to toss the rods in the corner during the times in between?
Off course not!

Last Sunday I had a really good time scooting around a new stretch of water and catching the biggest roach/rudd of the year a few hours later. Yesterday I had a fishless pike-trip in Friesland, the part of the Netherlands where I grew up.
As a boy I spend hours, days and weeks on end fishing in the afternoon, coming home late for dinner and fishing again in the evening on the nights I didn't get grounded.
Wondering about the mysteries that lay beneath the surface.
Addicted, that's what I was.
Hooked...

and to this very day.
It's not so much about what fish I'm after.
It's not so much about where to fish.
It's the game.