I’ll admit it. There’s something inherently ridiculous about fly fishing.
Don’t get me wrong, we love it, and it’s one of the most meditative tools in my mountain-girl arsenal.
(Hey, I have to have something to counteract the adrenaline—and bruises—from the bike.)
But after spending six hours in a very special “designated wild trout habitat” section of the Roaring Fork River on Friday, I started considering the absurdity that is fishing.
Our friends Scott and Mallane came over from Leadville for the night, and together, we spent the better part of the day climbing around a river, casting tiny fake bugs into challenging pocket water, all in hopes of convincing a fish with a brain the size of a pea to make a bad decision.
And somehow we’re the smart species. 😂
We take the bait (see what I did there?) on a lot of things in life. Some provide rest, enjoyment, connection, or even a little adventure, and some…not so much.
So, how do you know which ones are worth the strike?
Here are seven I’d take the bait on every time. 🎣
1️⃣ Get Hooked on Something
There is something fantastic about having an activity that makes spending six hours accomplishing objectively very little feel like a fabulous use of your weekend. 😜
Fishing happens to be one of those things for Jim and me.
We climbed down into a hole along the river, stood around casting for what felt like forever, mostly got skunked, moved on to another section, climbed around some more.
And we had a great day (especially Steve).
We live in a world where every minute is expected to be productive, but I suggest taking the bait on a different concept: get hooked on something so gloriously unproductive that you can’t help but make time for it.
Whatever your version of that is — golf, gardening, woodworking, running, birding, baking bread, collecting stamps for all I care — the outcome isn't really the point.
💡 Reminder: Find something you enjoy enough to be delightfully inefficient at it.
2️⃣ Take Yourself Less Seriously
If you're unfamiliar with fishing, let me fill you in on a few important ways we determine who won the day (delightfully inefficient does not mean the activity is totally void of a little friendly competition).
First fish.
Biggest fish.
Most fish.
And apparently for this expedition…
Tiniest fish. 😂
Jim and I each caught three fish during our six-hour outing (inefficiency at its finest), including one each that may have been among the smallest trout ever convinced to take a fly.
I would like the record to reflect that they were technically fish.
There was a hook.
There was a fish.
Therefore, we caught fish.
And while neither of us can claim victory over the other, I think it's safe to say we both dominated a category neither of us knew we were competing in.
Sometimes the best bait to take is the invitation to laugh at yourself.
💡 Reminder: Not everything needs to be momentous to be worth celebrating.
3️⃣ Share Something You Love
There's something really fun about doing something familiar with people who are still figuring it out. Not because Jim and I are suddenly expert anglers (we are not 😂), but it was fun to watch them pick up a few things simply by fishing alongside us, watching what we did, and asking questions.
It reminded me that mentorship doesn't always have to be formal—or even intentional.
Sometimes you simply know a little more than the person next to you, and sharing what you've learned helps them get better while reminding you how much you've learned along the way.
You notice things you've stopped noticing. You remember the stuff that used to feel hard. And you get to watch someone else get excited about something you've already learned to love.
That's bait worth taking.
💡 Reminder: You don't have to be an expert to help someone who's a few steps behind you.
4️⃣ Be a Little Uncomfortable
We've had so many 95- to 100-degree days lately that apparently I've forgotten weather can be anything else. I should know better after 18 years in the Colorado Rockies.
This day?
75 degrees. Cloudy. A river. Wind.
And giant thunderheads building around us.
Turns out that's a little chilly when you don't bring a rain shell (or an extra layer, lol). 🤦♀️
The storms looked like they might chase us off the river a few times, but we kept an eye on them, kept fishing, and managed to stay out there without getting soaked or struck by lightning.
Success!
Would I have preferred my rain shell? Absolutely.
Would I trade six hours on the river because I was a little cold? Not a chance.
🐟 Some bait is worth a little discomfort.
💡 Reminder: Comfortable and worthwhile aren't always the same thing.
5️⃣ Do It Scared
Steve, the semi-greatest fishing dog that ever was, also had an adventure during our outing.
At one point, we needed to cross the river, which required him to jump off a rock near some pretty fast-moving water.
Steve is not a water-lover like past pups, so our brave little adventure dog was very clearly scared, but eventually he decided there was only one way to get to the rest of his people.
He jumped.
And made it safely across. Good boy. 🐶
💡 Reminder: Sometimes the bait worth taking is the thing that scares you a little.
6️⃣ Be Willing to Be New
After six hours on the river, we were tired, hungry, and ready to make the giant climb back up to the cars.
Until Scott asked Mallane the dreaded question:
"Where's the net?" 😑
So instead of hiking up and out, we started backtracking along the river looking for it.
This is apparently something of a new-fisher rite of passage because when Jim first started fishing a couple of years before me, I think he lost at least two nets in a span of a few weeks.
Look at him now! Seasoned professional net-keeper.
And yes, after a little backtracking, we found theirs, too. Apparently this is just the price of admission. 😂
💡 Reminder: You have to be bad at something before you get to be good at it.
7️⃣ Stay Curious
While retracing our steps looking for the net, we started finding something else.
Golf balls.
A surprising number of golf balls. ⛳
Along the banks and hills above a designated wild trout section of the Roaring Fork, where there are very few houses and absolutely no golf courses nearby.
Naturally, we had questions.
Where are they coming from? Who is hitting them? And just how many are hiding out there?
No idea. 🤷♀️
But sometimes curiosity is reason enough to take the bait.
Notice the weird stuff. Wonder about it. Let yourself go down the occasional completely unnecessary rabbit hole, like wondering if some PGA Pro was renting the closest house, which is hundreds of yards away.
💡 Reminder: Pay attention. The world is weird.
Six hours. Six fish. Four friends. One brave dog.
Was any of this particularly productive?
Nope.
Would I take the bait and do it all over again?
Absolutely. 🎣
Maybe you should do the same this week.
👉 Find something—or someone, somewhere, or some ridiculous adventure—worth getting hooked on.
Your Friend and Coach,
Angie
