By Justin Mickens
Fly fishing has been a part of my life for a long time. Every spare moment I had, I would spend on the water. Warm water, cold water, a bream pond-as long as it was water I could fish, it didn’t matter. I lived, breathed, and existed to fly fish. If I wasn’t fishing, I was tying. I spent my days at work dreaming of my next trip. When I had a free day, I would spend daylight to dark casting. I felt free from the restraints of life while on the water, until fly fishing became my job.
I was working as a Paramedic, when I was introduced to fly fishing. My brother in law showed me a roll cast, and handed me down some leaky waders and boots. I only had a Wal-Mart combo, with level line, but I was going to conquer Nantahala. In the beginning, I was discouraged. I read everything I could, trying to gain as much knowledge as I could. I memorized hatch charts, tied flies, and fished every moment I could find. It took me two weeks before I achieved my first bite. The fish hit so hard it jerked the line out of my hand. Needless to say, I missed that fish, but I was the one hooked, figuratively and physically! I tried to set the hook like I did when I bass fished. It didn’t go well. That’s the moment I realized I could actually do it though. I started paying more attention to the fish. I watched how they would feed, and interact together. That’s when I noticed that stocked fish act like bass. They are super territorial and opportunistic feeders. That moment, something clicked in my head, and I understood what it would take to catch those fish.
I was unstoppable in my addiction. I had just moved back from New Mexico and needing a job, I stopped in the local fly shop and talked to the owner. It had been my local shop, and I had bought most of my equipment there. I was hired to work one day a week, but within a month, I was made manager. I poured my passion into everything I did. I talked to customers for hours, explaining techniques, and helping with tactics. I ran a “fishing buddies” program on my days off. Over time, however, it started becoming a chore. I would dread going out with other people. Then it became a chore just to fish. Everything seemed to lose its luster. I just wanted to sit at the house and relax. Fishing became a job.
After buying the local fly shop with my best friends, we had the worst fall on record for the store. During this fall, I had a guy come in who had lived in the area, but never fished. He spent days in the store with me talking, and tying. Even though I had lost my passion, he was developing his. He was always smiling, talking my ear off about a new fly pattern, or talking about his latest trip. I began to envy him. He has what I wanted back. I wanted to be that excited about fly fishing again.
Through our talks, I began to realize what I was missing. I needed to fish for me again. I needed to fish where I wanted, not where I thought I needed to for the store. I needed to be a little selfish, and make fishing about me again. It has taken some time, but the excitement is coming back. I find myself day dreaming about being on the stream. The days I make it to the stream, I spend for me.
Whenever you’re visiting a fly shop, remember, your enthusiasm is just as important to the person working there as their knowledge is to you. We spend all day, everyday, emerged in the world of fly fishing but sometimes, we might need a customer’s excitement for the sport, to bring us out of a “funk”. Thank you, Greg, for all your support, and for helping me remember why I love what I do.
Justin Mickens is Co-Owner and Manager of Appalachian Outfitters Fly Shop in Murphy, NC.