May 27, 2009

The Progression of an Angler

Our latest family outing found us at the Woods Ranch, up Cedar Canyon. Conner began the day with the Little Tikes rod. Connor was quite patient as he waited for the "She Shes" to come bite his line. But one can only take so much mundane repetition before the desire for more sets in.

Connor quickly found the light and picked up a fly rod. Although his back cast has some room for improvement, he is a zen master at mending the line. He attempted multiple rod twitch and retrieve techniques, but the fish had lock-jaw this afternoon. While his mother still chooses the barbaric technique of metal and trebles, Connor is well on his way to becoming a dry fly purist.


  1. Hey where is his cape I gave him? That should be a foam sword in his hand not an upper crust fly rod. "Fishermen good he is", of course that was in a yoda accent.

  2. You bastard! Leave my son alone! He'll never be a dungeon master. Quit trying to live your mid-evil dreams through my boy.