Perfection?

It has been a bit longer than I planned since my last post. I guess there are good reasons for that. I've spent some time in S Wales getting reacquainted with the nuances of fishing freestone rivers.

I've also built a fly rod. The blank is from a New Zealand company called CTS - that stands for 'composite tube systems.' They build all sorts of tubes from the amazing material that is carbon fibre, but tubes for fishing are their specialty. More importantly for you technofiles - these blanks do not have a fiberglass scrim. They are all carbon fibre (and a little bit of resin to hold it together). Currently, only a handful of companies (Sage is one of them) have the technology to build an all carbon rod that won't blow up the moment it flexes deeply.

The CTS blank is superb. A nice smooth action with a lot of power on hand when you need it. An almost perfect balance of finesse and zing. You've got to get the timing right to get the most out of it, but when you do - wow. More accurate and 'tight' than any of my Sage rods. Sorry ZXL.

The blank is a 9'6" 4wt, which I was originally intending as a nymph rod, but after fishing dries with it for 3 days straight, I might have to rethink that classification. I must admit that it was romantic visions of nymphing my way delicately through the mist of cold S. Wales mornings that initially prompted the purchase of this rod. That, and the fact that I had recently tried a Z Axis in the same weight and length. In the end, I decided that the Z Axis wasn't worth the money. But I was now acutely aware of a gaping 9'6" hole that had materialised in my 4wt collection. After careful weighing of bank balances and obsessive perusal of manufacturer's websites, I decided to have another go at building a fly rod. Building a rod is cheaper, and theoretically, you get exactly what you want in terms of finish and fittings.

So how did it turn out? Well, if you've ever built a fly rod, you will understand the obsessive pursuit of perfection that goes into building these things. And I'm also pretty sure that at some point in the process you will have come to the realisation that perfection can never be achieved. I found myself going through several classic phases in my eventual (re)acceptance of this premise: denial, bargaining, melancholy and eventual peaceful resignation to the fact that I will always be aware of the minor imperfections in the rod that others will never notice. OK, so some of them are noticeable. But still very minor. I guess you could call it adding 'character' to the rod. I wonder if the major manufacturers ever bother with this concept? Probably not. I'm sure they reached the resignation phase after the first day or so of cranking out 20 rods. I could also make some deep philosophical arguments about pursuing perfection in fishing rather than fishing rods, but I don't think I'll bother. I think I'll go fishing with my new rod instead.