Before I started fly fishing, I had no comprehension of that multiple rod and reel thing some folks do. You know, the person who calls the local fly shop before visiting a new fishing spot, asking what weight and length and action of rod should they bring along. As if someone else’s advice would cause them to leave some rod home, instead of having them ALL in the car.

As soon as I had two rods, I had two rods in the car. Now there are five in there. Right now. As I write, and I won’t be fishing again for three more days. But, see, I may get a chance to cast at some yet to be obtained moment during my workday.

And I have from one to three rods that I’d sell, because then I could buy another. And then I have my trusty Orvis Clearwater 6 wt, my first fly rod. It was a Christmas present from the boyfriend. I learned to cast with it. I whittled the cork down to better fit my hand, put a thumb depression on the handle, like the one I saw on a Winston Joan Wulff Favorite, and caught my first fish on a fly rod with that rod.

And then, there’s “Little Blue”. I’d been to a couple of places to fish that boasted water ten or twelve feet wide, and overhead trees, which I caught easily with that 9 foot 6 wt. And I’d broken off 7x tippet with that same rod, it’s mid-flex action not being enough flex when I was holding instead of letting a fish run. All of the cool guys I was fishing with had lighter, more flexible rods. And shorter ones for those little mountain streams. This was something I’d just have to have.

So I started looking. My friend, Grumpy, of the Caney Fork River’s infamous Three Amigos, had mentioned that for the money, you just couldn’t beat a St. Croix. The Admiral was, I knew, a fan of Sage, and WDR was favoring bamboo on some days, other elusive rods on others. I picked up inexpensive 4 wt rods at Bass Pro Shop, and wiggled them. I coveted lovely rods at other fly shops, waggling and turning then, as though I would know the magic one, and them would somehow find it for a price that would still let me find it a light reel, and a line that would cast well. Watched e-bay auctions, Virtual Fly Shop auctions, classified ads, and sale racks.

Soon, it appeared. A classified ad for a St. Croix, 7’6”, 4 wt..... Nearly new..... forty dollars. I e-mailed the seller. He mailed the rod. It looked good, was light as a feather, and I rigged it up. It was true love. I named that rod “Little Blue”

Her first excursion with me was to the Harpeth River, just outside Nashville. Warm water, and a magnet for canoes and kayaks. And a place to catch smallmouth bass, redeye bass, bream, shellcrackers, and other non-trouts.

I’d rigged up a light reel with some inexpensive 4 wt line, tied on a dry fly, and flicked the line into the first water I looked at. BAM! Little bream attacked the fly. The feel of a tiny fish on a light rod is really amazing the first time you experience it. Little Blue and I hooked and unhooked dozens of shellcrackers and bream that afternoon. Time to go to a cold river.

Four days later, we were on the Caney Fork, and while the boyfriend, Rusty went on upriver to actually CATCH fish, I stood at the head of a riffle and cast to rising fish with a dry, swells on the water with a nymph, and spots that just looked good with what ever I had on at the moment.

When I finally got the knack of hooking trout with that softer action..... (I missed enough to get really frustrated) I was delighted with my purchase of Little Blue. She became my adventure rod. We ran down the road 3 miles from my house to a bend on Leiper’s Creek, and pestered some bream and pumpkin fish, chubs, and tried like crazy to get a smallmouth bass on. Next we hit the tiny South Harpeth, along side Percy Warner Park, in Nashville and hooked into a couple of one pound red-eye bass.

Fourth of July was coming up, and with Rusty out of town, I called on the Admiral for some Caney Fork River fishing. Took Little Blue, of course, and she rode in the back of the Admiral’s Range Rover with a Sage rod and Lamson reel. She liked it just fine, fishing with the Admiral and me on the fourth of July.

After sending the Admiral off to a family BBQ, I went back to the Caney Fork to fish alone, snagging a nice rainbow from a deep hole, and letting the flexibility of my little rod play that fish to net. A nice bait caster snapped a photo for me.

A few days later, I was back on the Harpeth, and an idea struck. You know how some folks take one of those ceramic elves on vacation with them and photograph it all over the country, with different scenery? I decided to document all the places Little Blue and I fished, and different species of fish we were catching.

The challenge was on. From a tropical-looking shell-cracker to a plain-jane bass, I snapped photos before releasing fish back to the river. Three sinister looking gar rose up beside me in waist deep water. I tied on some 3x tippet, a yellow stimulator, and a nymph as a dropper. A few casts later, a wicked long snout slashed at both flies, and I had a 24” gar on. I’d left my net behind, so I walked it to a distant bank to land and photograph it. Little Blue was really getting a workout, between hooking, landing, and photo sessions with fish.

Wading back, I noticed a mossy lump snoozing in the cattails, and used Little Blue’s butt to pin down a hubcap sized snapping turtle. It didn’t even mind the photo session.

I wondered aloud to Rusty later, while showing him the photos, if I should send the collection with a narrative to St. Croix. Surely they’d want me to endorse their fine, fun rods. “But Juni,” he said, ”Are you sure you want to be seen catching all those trash fish?“

I thought for a second. Well, I’d had a whole lot of fun. And had some fun stories to tell. So, yeah, that would be just fine. Next, we’re going to find some willing carp. I wonder if St. Croix’s 7wt would be as fun......

Juni (Read Head)