On Sunday morning, we went to the Falls Reserve Conservation Area in the village of Benmiller. We assumed we would see some lovely waterfalls or rapids on the Maitland River as it flows to Goderich and out into Lake Huron. We approached the roar of the water, but couldn’t see the river because the bank is high above the water and obscured by a line of trees. We followed a path through the trees and an amazing scene opened before us: men in hip waders ranged across the river and fly fishing. I’ve never been what you’d call an outdoorsman, so I guess I’m easily amazed. Even so, for a city boy, this is a rare sight. It could just as easily have been a herd of moose crossing the river. I would have been no less amazed.
It struck me that fly fishing is probably a lot like photography. You haul all kinds of gear with you, often to remote or inconvenient locations, just so you can do something you love. You position yourself where you think some magic will happen, but there are no guarantees. You might spend a day and catch nothing. But still you do it.
