I’m not really sure what the title stands for, but the way movement combines with sound is just great.
A long ago I wrote about a casting game I played with the kids. They loved it so much that they took advantage of my taking up some serious lawn training to ask for more. But they are two years older, so they wanted it a little more interesting, so they invented new rules. Here’s for you a great way to mix your casting routine with your parental duties.
Take your gnomes out for a picnic somewhere you can cast. Many city parks offer good options. It works best if you’ve got more than two littluns. I’ve got three, I think four would do also, more would probably result in chaos, which may also be good. Rig your favourite casting rod with something flashy and big on the business end of the line. Your goal is to catch the kids by touching them with the fly. When you touch a kid, (s)he should freeze. The other ones may free the prisonners by crawling between their legs and tapping once on their head. (Weird, I know, but they came up with that and it seemed to make plenty of sense to them, and judging by the bursts of laughter, they probably know what they’re doing). You score a point each time you manage to freeze all the kids. You’ll work accuracy on moving targets, line management, and speed, which makes it the perfect drill before a trip to the salt. It’s huge fun, and I think you should try it.
I’m off to Sarzeau, on the Golfe du Morbihan, for a Rodhouse seminar, basically a gathering of terminal-stage tackle geeks for 48h of silly talk, misdemeanor, putting livers to the test, fiddling with as much rods as possible, and possibly catching some good seabass in the process.
I reckon there won’t be much happening, flywise… Let’s hope that two days of spinnning will not ruin my fly karma.
Back on the lawn yesterday, there’s a lot going on castingwise these days, so I decided to start a casting log, if only to keep actual track of what I’m doing.
I’ll probably never really get past this distance mental illness that compells me, when I’ve got a fly rod in my hand, to try and see how far I can punch the line. I may resist, but sooner or later I’ll be zinging all out. Still, I’ve made some progress: in a 60mn session, I kept the madness well under 10′, which left me plenty of time for doing actual training.
I was back to basics, and doing Pick Up and Lay Downs, focussing on loop shape, accuracy, and changing directions. I was inspired to learn the PULD again by that great piece of teaching (and loosy piece of filming (man, get a tripod!)) by Peter Hayes:
What made things interesting was constant guts of wind, as I was using a 4wt. I like to train with a light line in the wind, because the wind is an unforgiving sonnovabitch. If you don’t get a good loop at good speed, your cast goes poopshaped. And not in a good way.
It’s also good for staying focussed on trajectory. Marc once said to me that every training cast should have a target, and daisies patches make for great rises. Aiming in the wind is a good drill, and most certainly something very useful when you fish. If you’ve got some space around you, just turning around to change the wind’s direction will put you in a whole new setting and keep things interesting. You’ll have to do backhand PULDs for instance.
After an hour or so, the kids came in and they had invented a new casting game which was great fun. More on that later.