Slumming for Trout

My first fly rod was a Pfleuger Medalist, 8-foot for 5/6 line. I couldn't have been happier with the thing. It took me a while to adjust to the price points of fly-fishing, since my previous fishing rods were Abu Garcias from the bulk bin at the local Fleet Farm. Going from $5 (okay, I wasn’t much of a fisherman) to somewhere north of $50 was tough, and that was just to get the cheapest fly rod I could find. Still, the Pfleuger Medalist suited me, and when I accidentally broke it several years and a (smallish) number of fly rods later, it hurt. I still have that fly rod tucked away somewhere, for reasons I can't fully explain. 

In my 20-some years of fly-fishing, I've looked with admiration at fancy rods and reels, and even fished what seemed at the time like a fairly nice bamboo rod my cousin and fishing partner, Jeff Finnamore, kept trying to give me. But for me, bamboo seemed complicated, and there was something unsettling about fishing a rod I was afraid I might break. I returned the rod to him unscathed and barely fished, and returned to the Pfleuger. (And to pronouncing the "P" for effect.)  

While other fly anglers progress to bamboo or high-end graphite rods as they get farther into the sport and deeper into their checkbooks, I've tended toward tools of the trade that I enjoy well enough but are more workman-like. First, lower-end graphite, then fiberglass, which for me has much of the romance as bamboo without the price tag or the upkeep. 

I recently came upon a 7 1/2-foot Heddon Pal Standard. The name called to me. The Standard. Not the Presidential or the Aristocrat. Just the Standard. Perfect. No-nonsense. And it's fiberglass, which puts it safely in the "Why do you fish that?" category. 

My fishing fits nicely with that theme, too. Fair to middling fishing on respectable but not glamorous trout streams in Minnesota. (And Wisconsin, if push comes to shove.) It can be great fishing, but not the kind you'd see on any of the outdoor TV channels. I have nothing against great fishing. I've been on a quest for big trout in Montana. I've toyed visiting other famous trout country. But when it comes right down to it, I prefer the uncrowded and relatively uncomplicated rivers of my home state and our eastern neighbor, where for reasons unknown, my fishing license lists me as Hoyt J. Flanaman. 

A really great fish can make you stop and catch your breath for a minute. As can a gorgeous freestone stream in the mountains. But I'll take a Southeast Minnesota river valley and a 12-inch trout on an Adams any day of the week. Slumming for trout suits me.