I have a soft spot for underdogs and am drawn to the random - a quirk that extends to fishing gear. Sometimes, the older and less practical the rod, the more I love it. This love is born of intrigue and kinship of spirit, not performance.
For example, a few years ago I broke a big-fish slump at the Redacted River fishing a
Wright and McGill Sweetheart 7-8-weight that I literally pulled out of the garbage. I figured that if it'll cast, it deserves to, and I could use a 7-weight. That day we landed six fish over 20 inches including a thick 25-incher that remains the biggest to-hand brown I've seen.
I came upon another old Wright & McGill in an auction that was a no-brainer. It's a PF-7, which stands for panfish and 7-weight. It's fiberglass, 7-feet long, has square blanks, and is wrapped in rainbow colors. Perfectly random and glowing with juju. (Incidentally fly-rod manufacturers - wouldn't "Juju" would make a good model name?)
I brought it to
a carp pond in eastern Montana in May and it controlled the multiple-pound fish with aplomb, including a 10-pounder. But being that it's not a very practical rod, I shelved it until this past Saturday when I fished with a friend I don't get to fish with very often. I thought it worthwhile to harken the PF-7.
Halfway through the day, I admitted that I regretted it. My friend chuckled, having questioned the decision from the start. It is quite heavy and does not cast big flies well, and it was a streamer day. But my love for the rod became want and determination, and a big one was soon thrashing on the line.
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My lucky charm is in the lower right. |
It's by no means a record-setter, but it was a great fish for the river. Courtesy the old, short, colorful, quadrangular, perfectly random PF-7.