I Went to the Woods: Evaluating your game

Published 5:30 am Friday, March 6, 2026

In the dusty filing cabinet of my memory, I can see Duke guard Trajan Langdon shoot a 3-pointer without taking a step. The defender is close enough to Langdon that when Trajan elevates for the shot, they touch noses. Trajan buries the three.

I didn’t watch much of my own film in high school, but I watched college basketball and I learned a lot from watching games on ESPN. I’d get home from school and settle in for hours of college hoops until the TV was turned to the evening news.

It’s not surprising that many of the fly anglers I know played sports in high school. There’s something about the enrapturing nature of fly fishing that makes it appealing to former athletes. That doesn’t mean playing sports is a prerequisite. But fishing with a fly demands focus, skill development, and all the highs and lows one could want.

There is no film to watch and breakdown why exactly particular casts that seemed pure didn’t yield a strike or why sloppy throws you just decided to fish ended up working out. The ability to be able to scrutinize your trip like you did a basketball game would be helpful but it feels wrong to overanalyze.

Fishing can be a lot like running an effective offense, but sometimes we get overly complicated or fancy. A sophisticated offense might require five passes, three screens, six cuts and end up with a 3-point attempt that you could have gotten with a simple pick and pop with the post. Why complicate it?

I attended a casting demonstration at a fly fishing show in California and watched master casters bomb 90-foot casts with disheartening accuracy. The distance between you and the best casters and anglers can seem daunting and the most tempting way to make up the difference is with your wallet–something you couldn’t use to close the gap between you and the NBA-bound hoopers you admired in your youth. This is unique to the world of hobbies that replace the “passions” you have when you’re a kid.

But since we do have a little money, we can get bogged down with attempting the perfect set up. A Skagit head with a versi-leader sink tip, and six feet, no ten…you know, maybe twelve feet of leader. Maybe just get the switch line for the switch rod and for the single headed rod, buy the fly line that has the desired fish on the front. Brown trout. No. Permit. Nope. Trout…close enough?

A guide and gear can certainly help, but time and practice make the most difference. Of course the most important driver of success is the ability to have fun. Be fanatical, be obsessed, get frustrated when you lose a fish or wrap your line around Devil’s club behind you, but don’t forget to have fun.

Statistics are the antithesis of a good steelhead trip though it’s hard not to keep score if only for yourself. The fact that success when steelhead fishing can vary creates this vague definition of a good day. A good day can be quantified by a solid fish on a comfortable spring afternoon on the water. This might be similar to lacing them up, hitting one smooth jumper that reminded you of the old days, but the best part was you didn’t pop your Achilles or blow out your knee.

You didn’t ask for much, you didn’t have unreasonable metrics by which to gauge the performance, so you are easily satisfied. You want it, bad, but know that even if it’s not your day, you weren’t sitting on the bench.

Jeff Lund is a freelance writer based in Ketchikan. His book, “A Miserable Paradise: Life in Southeast Alaska,” is available in local bookstores and at Amazon.com. “I Went to the Woods” appears twice per month in the Juneau Empire.