What Do You Expect?
It’s an interesting question. And though it’s often asked rhetorically, I think it has a lot to do with satisfaction and happiness.
I spend a fair amount of time thinking about expectations—in business, fishing, gear, even the weather. Asked earnestly, it can be a surprisingly jarring question.
Imagine a fishing guide looking you in the eye first thing in the morning and asking, “What are your expectations for the day?”
What would you say?
If you say, “I expect to catch a lot of big fish,” your guide will probably roll their eyes and buckle up for a long day. They know you’ve just set the day up for failure by attaching your satisfaction to something neither of you can control.
Of course, we all want to catch a lot of big fish. That’s the dream. The wish. But should it be the expectation?
Hiring a good guide dramatically improves your odds. You’re putting yourself in the hands of someone who knows the water and understands the fishery. Better yet, plan your trips now for next year to lock in the prime fishing dates.
Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time a guide actually asked me what I expected. Maybe they’ve heard the wrong answer so many times they finally stopped asking.
I’ve been watching expectations play out in the shop a lot this year.
We came into the season with a poor winter snowpack and, understandably, pretty low expectations. But low expectations encourage creativity. People started looking outside the usual places, fishing different water, targeting different species, and adjusting their seasons around the conditions rather than wishing the conditions were different.
One young angler wandered into the shop recently unemployed and determined to make the best of an unexpected situation. He had time but not much of a plan. We pointed him toward the right places at the right times, and what could have been a bummer summer ultimately became, in his words, “the best summer” of his young life.
On the other end of the spectrum, the shop has been buzzing about record returns in British Columbia. Expectations followed suit. Anglers booked trips, imagining what those numbers might mean for their week, then came home disappointed after a trip that would have been considered good in any other year.
More fish in the river certainly improves your odds. It doesn’t guarantee you anything.
Fishing since a young age has taught me to fantasize wildly, be thoughtful about what I can control, but expect the worst. That might sound pessimistic, but I don’t know anyone who would describe me as a pessimist. The dream is why we drive through the night, hike for miles, or make one more cast. Preparation gives us a chance. But the expectation—that’s where I try to be careful.
I can expect myself to be prepared. I can expect myself to be there, fish thoughtfully, make the cast, and to never be disappointed in the outcome.
So, what do you expect?
Stay fishy, California.
