Fly fishing can provide those precious moments

The old rental boat gently nudged the shoreline, and I that's when I began to wonder what Irv had in mind.

My young brain didn't get the fact my father was going to show me something new.

This was back in the late 1950s, a time for learning and experimentation. Father and son were back on Pistakee Lake scouring the old reliable spots for big bluegills and crappie.

Irv uncapped a long, metal tube and removed his treasured Montague split-bamboo fly rod. He put it together, then reached into his tackle box for his fly reel, a well-worn Heddon single action model 25. And then he pushed the fly line through the guides while affixing a small popper to the end of the leader.

He handed me the 9-footer and told me to "get the feel" of it. He then wanted it back and proceeded make a dozen casts to a weed pocket. A fat bluegill smacked the popper.

I watched him execute a back cast and then gently lay the line down on the water again. And then it was my turn.

Irv told me to allow the rod to do all the work, in that it was the rod's action which shot the line forward carrying the fly to its target. It took over a half-hour before I was able to make casts worthy of my dad's praise.

And in 1966 I stood alone, decked out in my hip waders, alone on Christiana Creek in Elkhart, Ind. This eager beaver didn't have a clue as to where the smallmouth bass were hiding, but I did manage to hook and catch a small one. I had Irv's fly rod to help me along the way.

And then local George Miller took me to the Little Elkhart River one evening and showed me how to catch jumbo brown trout on one of his fly creations.

Later trips to famous Colorado, Montana and Wyoming trout streams continued to fuel my affection for this part of my fishing education.

And so I write about those memories today because I believe many of are missing out on one of the greatest aspects of our sport.

This tale is not about the fancy clothes, far-off destinations, the overly expensive rods and reels, or the minority of snobs who populate this sport.

The moments I spend fly fishing are as precious as my grandchildren's laughter and smiles. For me, fly fishing also happens to be extremely comforting and tranquil.

You have a chance to tranquilize yourself as well by opening up your horizons Feb. 8-10 at the Schaumburg Renaissance Hotel and Convention center.

It's the week of Great Waters Fly Fishing Expo organized by Midwest Fly Fishing Magazine.

There will be "experts" on hand to teach you how to get in to the sport as well as show you what you have been missing.

I have tutored dozens of new fly fishers, and every time they make those casts to waters they've fished before, or new streams for that matter, I instantly know these folks are literally hooked forever. It's that addictive.

Fly fishing is not what the fancy magazines make it out to be, in that it can be fun for anyone picking up a rod and reel and getting a few lessons.

I spent several hours with my wife on the front lawn, teaching her to fly cast. And when we got to New Zealand and stepped in to fast currents on a famous trout stream, on her third cast she hooked a jumbo rainbow trout.

You don't have to go to New Zealand, but you can fish all the waters around here and get almost as much satisfaction once you learned the basics of fly fishing.

Give it whirl and see for yourself.