Not long after I started fly fishing I remember asking an older fly fisherman friend of mine what one thing I could do to become more productive on the water? He paused for a moment then replied…

“Learn patience.”

At the time his answer seemed odd to me, and a bit impractical, but I nodded my head in agreement anyway, shrugging it off as just an old man’s attempt to sound overly thoughtful, or wise, or something.

Today, some 20 years later, I see just how practical this man’s advice really was. If the river has taught me anything at all since then, it is the need for patience.

It was March of 2017, my son and I were fishing the Frying Pan River in central Colorado. It was our first morning out and everything that could go wrong did. Fishing early, and in the shadow of the mountain, my fingers were left numb with cold. Snags, lost flies and tangled leaders seemed to only magnify the fact that I had zero fish to my name, even after several hours on the river. Along with this my son had broken my rod tip sliding it back into my rod vault. By noon I was done. I remember the frustration of that morning. I remember how hard it was to focus on anything but the negative. I finally just walked away from the river.

Jake and I regrouped in the truck and decided to wipe our morning from the books. We headed back to the cabin for some lunch and tied flies the rest of the afternoon. When evening came we opted to fish a lower section of the river, this time with much more success. Funny what a little time away can do.

Fly fishing has a way of bringing out the best and worst in us. It can be a love-hate relationship at times. A little patience can go a long way in helping frame our state of mind when things go a bit sideways. Patience isn’t just about waiting either, even more so I think it’s about knowing how to wait. Patience teaches us to adapt to our circumstances even if that means changing our way of thinking or changing what we are doing… a pertinent skill on the river and in life for that matter.

Can patience be learned? I think it can. Though I know for certain it doesn’t come easy. I’ve always envied those who seem to have it intrinsically. It’s almost as if they were born with it. Maybe they were. Chances are they earned it quietly through life’s unspoken hardships. I saw this firsthand with my father.

I’ve spent time with fisherman over the years that seem to have a healthy dose of patience. I believe it contributes to their success on the river. Not so much in that they catch more fish (though I think they do), but that they are content even when they don’t. They accept whatever the river gives them, the good and the bad.

I shared a day on the river with one such fisherman just last spring. He was a quiet man of character, simple and soft spoken. There were nine of us on the river that day sharing three boats. Dave was in mine. As the oarsman I did my best to get Dave onto a fish. I guess it just wasn’t his day. Even so, I watched this man enjoy the beauty of the landscape around him and the companionship of his friends just as much as he did the fishing. What amazing perspective. I believe patience is a virtue born out of contentment.

The river can teach us a lot about ourselves if we are willing to listen. The times I do I’m almost always left the better for it, as a fly fisherman and as a person.

Patience is the pathway to this end.