At long last, we've reached the subject that seems to fascinate most fly fishers -- it's the fly reel, the last component of the fly fishing outfit. According to some experienced fly fishers, the fly reel is the least important part. After all, the reel plays no role in fly casting as it does in spinning or bait casting. Throw a light bait-casting lure without an educated thumb on top of the spool of a superb reel and the resulting bird's nest of tangled line will make you wish for another sport. In fly fishing, it is the line and rod that make the cast.

Since the fly reel has no role in casting, it seems logical to believe that the fly reel serves little purpose other than as a convenient way to hold and store the fly line. If, as I've suggested, the line is the most important component with the rod following a close second, this statement doesn't sound too far fetched. And, the argument is true -- especially if you are chasing eight to twelve-inch trout. I've yet to see any fish of this size strip-off 80-feet of fly line in a smashing run. (Of course, after a couple of belts of fine Scotch, a warm fire with the smell of fresh pine in the air, it makes for a great fireside story that will grow and mellow with the telling.)

Like so many things, the gentle art of fly fishing is changing. In some settings the sport is no longer "gentle." Instead, it has turned rough and tumble with some folks looking for a battle with the heavyweight brothers of little friend fish. In this case, the importance of the fly reel grows by the pound and endurance of the fish. It is, as the Great Wizard told Dorothy, " . . . the horse of a different color." If you throw to the "biggies" of blue water; if you throw to stripers off the Carolina breakers; if you throw to permit or bone in the Caribbean; if you throw to steelhead in the Northwest; or to the mighty Atlantic salmon in the Northeast -- you can bet your sweetheart that the fly reel is important.

Some fish are known for making long runs in open water, others are not. If you primarily fly fish a species such as the largemouth bass, the reel is not likely to prove critical to your success or failure. While a strong fish, the largemouth is not known for the long runs of permit or bone; instead, this species much prefers to hunker-down in heavy structure and laugh like hell when you break-off. Chase a long runner, though, and the reel becomes major player. To say it is indispensable is a world's record understatement when you are after a world's record fish and it is at the end of a 2 kg. Class tippet.

Background. Before going further, let's get a few points out in the open.

• First, everybody these days seems to make a fly reel. A very incomplete alphabetical listing would include: Abel, Ari T. Hart, Berkley, Billy Pate, Fin Nor, Fly Logic, Hardy, J. Ryall, Lamson (The Waterworks), Loop, Peerless, Penn, Pflueger/Shakespeare, Robichard, Sage, Scientific Anglers, Stratos, STH/Cortland, Valentine, not to mention a whole bunch sold under house names such as L.L. Bean, Cabela's, Cortland, and Orvis.
• Second, fly reels are not in short supply, even when your "want list" is for alternatives in design, features, operation or materials.
• Third, competition among fly reel manufacturers is keen, so quality is generally very good across any line. That does not mean, however, the higher the price, the better the reel.
• Fourth, some fly reels are esthetically pretty and some are not. To my knowledge, no correlation of efficiency has been established between "pretty" and "ugly" fly reels.
• Fifth, just between you and me, buying the "right" fly reel can frequently be difficult because it is very likely that the nearest shop or store will not carry a complete line of what's available.

In some families, where the sport is considered part of their heritage, fly reels are handed down from generation to generation. But suppose you, like me, are not from a family where the traditions of fly fishing date back to year one? I wasn't born in New England; for that matter, I didn't even come from a family where fishing, much less fly fishing, was considered acceptable behavior. Under these conditions, not much is handed down -- most especially something to do with fly fishing.

Early fly reels were of simple but superb construction, machined and tooled to very close tolerances. Typically, fit and finish bespoke of the pride in craftsmanship the reel incorporated. Some of today's reels match that quality; unfortunately, not all are within the price range of "every man." Today's construction materials range from plastic, to graphite, to steel/aluminum graphite composites, to the reels made of either cast or machined (from) "bar stock" aluminum. Experimentation in design continues -- as you have already learned, weight is an important consideration to the "balanced" fly fishing system.

I suggest you head for your nearest fly shop and examine a few of the fly reels in stock, beginning with something inexpensive and ending with the top of the line, any line. Play with several. Feel the differences in weight. Notice the configuration of the frame and spools. The many visible holes in frame and spool reduce weight and, yes, for whatever it's worth, the holes also ventilate the spool.

While examining the fly reels, look for other things. Compare the "wobble" between the spool and frame. Look closely at the spindle that holds the spool. Is it thick or thin? Thick dissipates heat faster than thin. Check the construction. Is the frame graphite, cast, or machined aluminum? How about the spool? Remove the spool and check the drag mechanism. What kind is it? If you don't know, ask. Sometimes, it is difficult to tell how the drag functions. Finally, replace the spool and reverse wind the reel -- just as you would if you were a running fish taking line. Smooth, with no drag from startup inertia, is what you seek.

The First Fly Reel. For a moment, come with me back in time to the Crusades. According to my hysterical research, as each knight-errant ventured forth to save Christianity, he carried a small fly reel made by Pflueger. It was called the "Medalist." Equipped with a line of braided horsehair, the hope was that the knight could survive in an alien environment by eating fish from the streams that abounded in those early times.

And so it came to be that the Pflueger Medalist has been around "forever." Of course, it is no longer made in the USA. Like almost anything else in this country, it, too, is made in the Orient. While it retains its original name, the Pflueger Medalist is now marketed by Shakespeare. Why, I cannot say. My mind is clouded. Better to ask Lamont Cranston -- in truth, "Only the Shadow knows!"

Next Up: Part 2 of the Fly Reel -- Fact & Fantasy. Stay tuned … And for now, God Bless.