Like most people during the Pandemic, I found myself with lots of time on my hands. Feeling the need to have a hobby that was productive and satiated my thirst for a creative outlet, I turned to one of my other hobbies which was fly fishing. Combining the need to create something of which I could be proud and looking to obtain a deeper understanding of fly fishing led to down the rabbit hole of rod building. Before I knew it, I had a large box on my door mat with a basic starter kit. Much to the chagrin of my better half, more tools and components began to accumulate on the dining table.

Thankfully my wonderful fiancée, was more than willing to let me take over one of our few unoccupied free spaces to dive into my new hobby. That starter kit stayed on the dining table longer that was probably acceptable, but I was having a time just diving in a learning new skill. That first rod that I built was never going to win any beauty contests, but I was proud of it, nonetheless.

From that dining table, my rod building passion only grew and with it my need to expand that newfound hobby. A desk was quickly acquired to build out that workspace in the corner. Before I had known it, I was dozens of rods deep and each one was better than the last. Newly acquired skills were translated to the next rod on the build schedule, then it got to a point where I believed that my rods to stack up in build quality and performance against some of the best in the business. Soon I felt as though I didn’t need that brand new Sage in my quiver because I was happy with the one that I had built.

If you have ever been into fly tying, you understand the immense sense of pride that comes with catching fish on a fly which you had put together on your own. Take that sense of pride and multiply it ten-fold and you might get close to the level of satisfaction which comes from reeling in a lunker with a rod that you spend hours building on your dining table.