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Here's a quick-ish story for you, with regards to fly-fishing.

I grew up a Yankee, and spent my youth in the pursuit of trout. (Those if you who know me may find humor in the fact that the Rainbow Trout is my favorite fish.)

Anyway, one year I got quite interested in fly-fishing, so my birthday present that year was a basic fly outfit...rod, reel, line,flies,vest...just entry-level stuff, but man, was I proud of it.

So, we're at camp, which is easy walking distance from a typical PA mountain stream. I put my rig together, ran a few practice casts in the yard to make sure I was g2g...then hit the water. Of course, with trees, rocks and other distractors in the way, I had a few wasted casting gestures.

When I made that first real cast and got the fly on the water, as I'm thinking to myself that I could do better, I get a strike! Wound up with a 6" brookie! Let him go...but you know that now I'm addicted, right?
A few more 'casting gestures' and then my second real cast...I caught a pine tree. Then with the typical logic if youth, to try to save the line & leader, I tried to work it loose like it was my spinning gear, and I wound up with a snapped rod.

Still one of my best fishin stories...and in the end, my Dad saved that rod with a piece of dowel.