In Fly Fishing Size Does(n’t) Matter!

By Dave Roman

I think we can all agree that, without question, size absolutely does(n’t) matter.  Therein lies the heart of the issue…and the heart of the sport. In my streamside wanderings from points north, south, east and west, no one has ever described himself (or herself) to me as a Lunker Bum. It’s never happened. Sure, we’ve all met size snobs (and if you are one, that’s okay!), but I have a sneaking suspicion that this phenomenon has more to do with primal male posturing—cue chest-pounding Lowland Gorilla—and less to do with actual enjoyment. 

When have you ever seen a fishing buddy not get Christmas-morning-happy-eyes at a flamboyant dry fly take or even a barely perceptible nymph bump? Exactly. So much of fly fishing has nothing to do with the fish. The leisure, the challenge, the meditation, the exertion, the camaraderie, the solitude; what lures us to endure the wrath of family and the elements is not the size of the prize but the sum total of the experience that culminates in a fish sipping the fly drifting above it. So, that’s resolved. Size doesn’t matter. 

But it does. After the body’s initial reflex, jerking the rod tip skyward to set the hook, the next sensory input the brain automatically and involuntarily seeks is the load of the rod—the forearm check. Your forearm tells all, and at the moment the brain registers a significant load in the rod—that lovely discomfort as the rod butt digs firmly into that meaty part below your wrist—a special exuberance floods the senses. It is an indescribable upwelling of nerves and joy that cannot be found with the more diminutive of our subsurface friends. Plus, the aforementioned factor of primal posturing cannot be dismissed. If you want to impress someone with your perceived mastery of the fish world, would you rather have a perfect but tiny 6-incher or would you rather pull out a massive two-hander? (Yes, we’re still talking about fish.) A basic instinct, for sure, but eons of genetic hardwiring predispose us to believe that bigger is better. 

Where does that leave us? As I see it….wait for it….size is the icing on the proverbial cake. Not essential, but nice. Plain cake is still delicious. We all love it, and few would turn it down. But, there are days when we want (dare I say, need) our fare share of icing. Flashback to those childhood

birthday parties where every fidgety little hand is grabbing for that extra piece of icing—even the globs crusted with nasty, pink candle wax are tantalizing us from the edge of mom’s razor-sharp knife. Who cares! You want some icing! And at some of the parties, little Johnny or Jane grabs it first and you’re left with the lame center piece with barely any icing. After a few quivering breaths and a couple of stealthy eye wipes, you suddenly realize, “Wait a second, I’ve got cake! Nice!” And so it goes. We all want the big one, but a fish fooled, hooked, and brought to net, big or small…well, it just feels good. See, size really does(n’t) matter. 

Dave Román is a multi-subject teacher by trade, but pursues his love of the outdoors on every possible occasion. Whether he’s streamside, riding a trail, summiting a peak, or exploring the terrain below, don’t hesitate to stop him to say hi and chat about whatever you find him doing at the moment.