E-Bikes for Fly Fishing: Part 1, Going Uphill and Getting in - Fly Fisherman

E-Bikes for Fly Fishing: Part 3, Rules, Accessories, and Other Details - Fly Fisherman

Fly Fisherman magazine has a three- part series of articles which goes into great detail about using E-bikes as a fishing tool.  The authors break down the classifications of E-bikes and the rules surrounding their use.  Article 2 shares how an E-bike can also be used as a tool for shuttling when fishing from a boat on a river when you need to get back to your vehicle at the end of your drift.  Article 3 shares a number of accessories that E-bikes can be fitted with to facilitate an angler.

As with all things, there are pros and cons to using an E-bike for fishing access.  Just ask Christopher what happens when the front wheel falls off of your E-bike!  Not all trails are suitable for E-bikes.  For example, on the trail back to Spring Creek there are stretches with steep drop offs where a bike would best be walked and not ridden. That being said, E-bikes are another tool for fishing that for some of us may be worth considering.

Back of Beyond                                             Stephen Neal
In Wildness is the Preservation of the World - “Henry David Thoreau."

His workman’s callused but supple hand presses forward on his hand plane, directed by time, patience, and loving attention to his craft. His practiced stroke produces a thin shaving of wood that curls back unbroken through the length of his stroke. Under his skilled hands the wood releases its beauty, its shape, and its function, and with testing it soon slips snugly into its intended position. Fit, glue, and finishing nails hold it firmly in place so that no sound is made when it is trod upon.

My dad was a carpenter. My appreciation of his skills came when I picked up a hammer and worked with him. When he drove a nail, it went in straight, but mine bent. With time my body and eyes began to comprehend the breadth of his skill base which allowed him to create homes, churchs, and commercial structures. When he used a hand plane to fit stair-treads into a circular stairway that is when I fully understood the term “craftsman.” My work with my dad also instilled an appreciation for well cared for tools and his wisdom in keeping them sharp. So, when many years later I witnessed this next incident, my soul recognized his simplistic and beautiful skill, the work of a true craftsman. A woodsman’s hand-axe pressed down on the freshly split kindling; its finely honed edge curled a shaving. Multiple following pressing strokes added additional curls until the end of the kindling stick looked like a miniature toilet brush. This perfect “toilet brush” was ideal fire tinder. He added the tinder to the firewood which he had carefully laid in preparation for cooking his evening meal. The match he struck transferred heat and flame to the tinder. It, in turn, quickly ignited the stacked firewood and soon his cooking fire was ready.

As I matured, I learned to appreciate music and the instruments that produced the music. Wooden string instruments hold a special place in my admiration. Violins, cellos, mandolins, dulcimers, and guitars are examples. I am especially impressed by the skills of the craftsmen who create these instruments. Even now, listening to such music reminds me of my father, of his sharp tools and high-level craftsmanship. A song by Mark Knopfler (singer, songwriter and musician) captures my attention; it encapsulates the craftsmanship of his instrument mastery, his songwriting excellence. The subject matter reminds me of my father and the building of stringed wooden musical instruments. Mark’s song and music celebrate John Monteleone, a renowned luthier who created some of Mark’s guitars.

Mark’s fingers pick his electric guitar strings, his notes clear and true, with a piano accompaniment playing a soft waltz. Mark begins to sing “The chisels are calling, It's time to make sawdust, Steely reminders of things left to do, Monteleone a mandolin's waiting for you. My finger plane’s working, Gentle persuasion, I bend to the wood, and I coax it to sing. Monteleone, Your new one and only will ring, Monteleone, Your new one and only will ring. The rain on the window, The snow on the gravel, The seasons go by to the songs in the wood. Too quick or too careless, It all could unravel, It so easily could. The chisels are calling, It’s back for and encore, Back to the shavings that cover the floor.” Monteleone – Album-Get Lucky – Mark Knopfler.

In contrast to my father’s practiced skill, my first experience with a handsaw left me very frustrated. His draw and push motion was smooth, deep, and easy. The sharp saw did the work, appearing to flow through the wood; he was merely its guide. The sawdust drifted to the ground and the board parted with neither peeling nor splinters. With time my strokes became longer and smoother as I let the sharp saw do its work.

Years later, my experience with a fly rod was akin to my first experience with a saw. I had to learn to let my tools do their job. In this case the tools were the rod, the line, and the water’s surface. In one smooth motion the fly-line parts from the water’s surface. The left-hand moves down across the waist, striping line as the right-hand lifts the rod and then propels it straight rearward. The rod and line capture the kinetic energy of the water’s surface tension at the moment of separation. A small ripple is all that is left on the surface. On the back-cast the rod stops at the one o’clock position as the left hand follows the rod, allowing the stripped line to be pulled by the now-loaded rod. The fly line forms a parabolic curve like the curl of wood from a hand plane. As the rod moves forward, so does the left hand, once again stripping the line back to the left and down across the waist. On the next forward cast, the rod returns to the eleven o’clock position and stops as the left hand releases the line. The rod’s stored kinetic energy joins with the weight of the forward moving line, extending the full length of the line, which should land delicately on the water. The fly caster wastes no motion as he lets the rod, water, and line do their work.

As a writer I use all my tools, which include overheard conversations, human study, a lifetime of reading, personal involvements, topic research, dictionary and thesaurus perusal. Also, a beloved editor, who helps me polish my writing so that each word counts, providing effortless reading that is thought-provokingly pleasurable. Below are two samples of a skilled writer who loves the earth and craftsmanship as much as I do.

“Hobbits are an unobtrusive but very ancient people, more numerous formerly than they are today; for they love peace and quiet and good tilled earth: a well-ordered and well farmed countryside was their favorite haunt. They do not and did not understand or like machines more complicated than a forge-bellows, a water-mill, or a hand-loom, though they were skillful with tools. Even in ancient days, they were as a rule shy of “the Big Folk,” as they call us, and now they avoid us with dismay and are becoming hard to find. They are quick of hearing and sharp-eyed, and though they are inclined to be fat and do not hurry unnecessarily, they are none the less nimble and deft in their movements. They possessed from the first the art of disappearing swiftly and silently, when large folk whom they do not wish to meet come blundering by; and in this art they have developed until to Men it may seem magical. But Hobbits have never, in fact studied magic of any kind, and their elusiveness is due solely to a professional skill that heredity and practice, and a close friendship with the earth, have been rendered inimitable by bigger and clumsier races.” J.R.R. Tolkien – The Lord of the Rings - Prologue

“They had been a fortnight on the way when the weather changed. The wind suddenly fell and then veered round to the south. The swift-flowing clouds lifted and melted away, and the sun came out, pale and bright. There came a cold clear dawn at the end of a stumbling night march. The travelers reached a low ridge crowned with ancient holly-trees whose grey-green trunks seemed to have been built out of the very stone of the hills. Their dark leaves shone and their berries glowed red in the light of the rising sun.” J.R.R. Tolkien - The Lord of the Rings – Book Two – Chapter III “The Ring Goes South”

I love and appreciate the natural world, music, the written word, skill, and craftsmanship no matter the subject or endeavor. I am unable to share vignettes of all the fine skills used by plants, animals, humans, and our earth. While I have touched on mankind’s endeavors, I do not wish to leave the impression that humans are preeminent in this skill set. All species on earth and the earth itself are much better at skillful craftsmanship than

mankind will ever be. We are simply imitators, who still have much to learn. My dad bequeathed to me my first love of artful work that stands the test of time. He was my first craftsman.

My oldest grandson recently treated me to a rewatching of The Lord of the Rings, directed by Peter Jackson. That rewatching sparked the idea for this article. I was mesmerized by the absolute art of the filmmakers and the fine talent it took to put those three films together from the writings of Tolkien. I also admire Tolkien’s vivid writing, his love of nature, music, and craftsmanship along his disdain for human greed and machines that foul our air, water, and land. It was these themes that sparked the idea for this article. In your walk-through life take time to appreciate the beauty of our world, acknowledge the skills of those who do the unappreciated tasks that make everyday life possible, the hidden people, male and female. The custodians, the maintenance personnel, the story board creator, the plasterer, the people who hang the sheetrock, the gardeners, and so many more. They are the underpinnings of all successful enterprises. Pilots may get all the glory, but the mechanics keep them and their planes in the air.

A Big Thank You, to Tennis Terrance for his editing suggestions.