I love walking into a fly shop. There’s so much possibility—and hope—percolating behind its doors. For me, it’s a test of pure willpower not to pluck a rod down and give it a waggle. ‘Cuz I know if I like it too much, I’ll have to find a way to talk myself out of buying it. And then after losing that poorly fought argument, I’ll need a covert plan for the new rod to appear in the house without my wife noticing. I do this, really, just to relieve her from the burden of having to plan my intervention. She knows I don’t like surprises.
I think I love walking into a fly shop because a) fly fishing is an awesome sport, and b) I was raised in retail. My parents owned a gift store in Laguna Beach, “Fong Imports,” if you’re familiar with the town. When they retired almost a decade ago, after 50+ years in business, theirs was the oldest continuously operating retail store in town. I was almost born in that store when my mom’s water broke with me while she was tallying the register at the end of the day. Must’ve been a good day’s business. More likely, though, she was probably hoping to put me to work for the upcoming weekend.
From that store, my parents raised my sister and me, sent us to college, and ensured we never wanted for anything. They supported the community, the local schools, and sometimes sponsored a youth sports team when asked. My parents were humble, small-business owners who actively served our beach town community from their little store.
And that’s what a good fly shop does, too. Hopefully not to serve as a place for a very pregnant shopkeeper’s water to break, but to support and serve its devoted fly fishers and the broader community beyond its doors. From in-house fly-tying events and guest speaker nights to hosting how-to clinics, outfitting guided trips, and sponsoring local fly club presentations, a friendly neighborhood fly shop can do so much more than serve merely as a retail outpost where a gear addict such as myself can ogle the latest rods and reels or top off needs for chasing after fish with a fly rod.
FOR ME, IT’S ALWAYS ABOUT THE PEOPLE
The fly shop owners and employees I’ve encountered on my travels are among the best and most knowledgeable people around. Their stoke level for our sport is high and that translates into them being consistently helpful, full of great ideas, and with the added bonus that it doesn’t take much to get them started to talk about fishing—unlike my non-fishing friends and family who want to talk about things like I’m thinking of going vegan or The car knocked over the mailbox today.
The local fly ship is a portal we all pass through to
getting tight to a fish.
ALL THE COOL KIDS ARE THERE…
You never know who you’ll run into at your local fly shop. Whether it’s a fishing buddy, a familiar guide, or even a legendary fly fisher, fly tyer, rod builder, or master casting instructor. The range of fly shop patrons is broad: from curious novices and the wizened tweed-hat-wearing set to your house painter or even a hometown pro athlete. The local fly shop is a portal we all pass through to getting tight to a fish.
For my parents, with more than 50 years in business in pretty much the same location (they moved three doors up the street in the 1970s), they met a lot of people along the way. Operating in a resort beach town, they had their share of celebrity customers. My favorite story is when 50 Cent came in with a small entourage. My mother, not recognizing him but sensing he might be famous, asked his name (she’s a Zac Brown fan, so not remotely in tune with the rap/hip-hop scene). One of Mr. Cent’s friends responded with, “This is 50 Cent.” To which my 5-foot-2-inch mother said to the rapper in her Tiger Mom voice, “50 CENT? WHY??? Did your mother not like you…?”
SLOW DOWN—YOU’LL LIVE LONGER
Time seems to slow down in a fly shop. I’ll even dare to suggest the clock might spin backwards a little. I feel bad for anyone who goes into a fly shop in a hurry—although I get it. Sometimes you need to pop in and out real quick to grab a steelhead report card before hitting the water, or you need a(nother) spool of 5X fluoro tippet on your way into a remote spot for a weeklong trip. But really, if you’re not in a hurry, you should let your circadian rhythm sync up with the pace of the shop. You might just live longer. You’ll probably catch more fish, too, which is a pretty great reason to live longer.
STOP TO SMELL THE FLOATANT
If you love this sport as much as, oh, the next person who loves this sport, very little beats taking the time to enjoy and support your local fly shop. Peruse those fly bins full of the myriad variations of trout snacks and, especially here in California, all the bushy salty snacks our ocean quarry could possibly feast on. Flies are, after all, works of art created to fool fish into eating a meal that turns into an alien abduction. “I saw a bright light and was lifted out of the water… They took my picture! One of ‘em gangly aliens even stuck a tube down my throat to suck out everything I ate that day! Finally, they just kind’a let me go. I don’t know why…”
The point is: Enjoy the in-person fly shop experience instead of rooting around online for gear. Chat with the fishy folk who are there. See if the fly shop’s rad shop dog will let you rub his or her belly. I guarantee any time spent shopping in a fly shop beats time spent waiting for a delivery driver to brusquely toss your click-click-beep-bop-boop-ordered fly fishing gear onto your doorstep.
A PARTING NOTE
I want to tip my hat to the fly shops that have made their last cast in the day’s waning light. My first real fly shop experience as a new fly angler was in the old Western Sports that closed so long ago in San Rafael—probably around the same time Orvis left San Francisco. To this day, I can’t find the size 18 orange hunchbacks they carried that tricked so many bluegill as I was trying to figure out this awesome sport as a new-ish fly angler. I was saddened when Kiene’s in Sacramento closed a couple of years ago—my neighbor regularly relayed their fishing reports to me as though they were gospel. And I know firsthand there have got to be legions—and likely generations—of Bob Marriott’s customers feeling the void when they closed after 46 years in business.
BUT NEW NEIGHBORS!
On a brighter note, we get to welcome some new fly shops serving us California fly anglers. Say hello to newcomers CrossWaterCreek Outfitters building community in Lafayette and Dogtown Fly Co getting ready to serve it up in Venice. As an old skool SoCal skateboarder, I’m looking forward to dropping in on those Dogtown folks once they open and when I’m down south visiting my mom. I just hope she doesn’t start calling me “50 Cent” before I get down there.
With the holiday season upon us, supporting your local fly shop is a great way to find something for the fly angler in your life (or for yourself, let’s be honest). Need ideas? Check out the first-ever California Fly Fisher Gift Guide for thoughtful, field-tested gifts. And if you opt to purchase directly from the Gift Guide, see if you can pick up your gift from a local store.
