Text: Shota Igarashi

Fly fishing allows you to do everything.

You can catch fish.

You can encounter fish.

You can stroll through the river.

You can move your body, sweat, and exercise.

You can turn your gaze toward insects, animals, nature, and all the living things there.

You can feel the changing seasons.

You can make lifelong friends.

You can see the character of the people who go to the river with you.

You can see their core values, what they truly believe.

You can make flies.

You can heighten your sensitivity and appreciation for fashion, culture, and beauty.

This is fly fishing as I see it.

Of course, I believe it has countless more facets and can be discussed from many angles.

That is fly fishing, I think.

But for me, “catching fish” is just one element of fly fishing.

I don't really recommend getting too obsessed with catching fish while fly fishing. Or rather, to be honest, I'd rather not go to the river with people who are overly obsessed.

Saying this might make me lose friends or make people feel awkward around me, so I'll add my own take: Of course, I'm happy when I catch a fish too. I love fish just as much as everyone else.

But having said that,

I also don't recommend getting too caught up in the idea of being “good at fly fishing.”

To be blunt, I even think, “So what if you're good? Big deal?”

I hope these two points come across clearly and I don't lose any friends over this (lol)

Now then, I think fly fishing is like the Force in Star Wars. The light side and the dark side coexist in a place where the difference is paper-thin, and I even think it has a precariousness where you could fall into the dark side with just a slight push. Both are elements inherent to the Force that is fly fishing.

The Force is a power, a concept, and it exists everywhere.

It possesses an incredibly strong gravitational pull that draws people in, and it can become whatever the user makes it. When handled well, it can be a dependable ally, but it also carries dangerous elements that can consume you.

For instance, that sensation when a giant trout strikes—adrenaline surging from the depths of your brain, overwhelming your limits. And the indescribable feeling while hooked, time stretching taut to its breaking point, like it might snap at any moment.

No matter how you look at it, that's dangerous.

Whether you land it cleanly, it gets off hook mid-fight, or you fail to hook it properly—it's all the same. There's no other way to describe it but dangerous.

No matter how much training someone has, tasting that feeling is the end.

Work? Sorry, but it becomes impossible to focus.

Honestly, I'll spill the beans to the world: fly fishermen—whether they're at work or in a meeting with their boss—can't get the image of that giant trout out of their heads.

This is the dark side of fly fishing.

It's no different from gambling addiction, or ***** addiction.

But I wonder, isn't this kind of fly fisherman kind of lame?

Who wants to go to the river with some guy breathing fire and glaring like that? (laugh)

But of course,

I know that dark side well, and very deeply.

Yes, the dark side is incredibly alluring.

Just as Luke Skywalker fell to the dark side,

many fly fishermen become captivated by its charm and eventually succumb.

You, too, must be careful.

So, what should you do to avoid it?

My recommended approach to fly fishing is

to think of “catching fish” as just a bonus to fly fishing.

No, no, but fly fishing is fishing, right?

It's okay. You'll feel a weight lift off your shoulders and start enjoying it more.

You'll learn to laugh even when you don't hook anything,

and if a giant trout gets away mid-fight, you'll laugh so hard you'll hold your sides at the sheer suddenness of it.