Why fly-fishing is a great pandemic sport

“We’ve been doing this for 160 years, and the last time we saw a push this big was when Brad Pitt made ‘A River Runs Through It,’ ” says Simon Perkins, the newly appointed president of fly-fishing giant Orvis Company. The movie was based on the book of the same name by Norman Maclean. Unlike spin (traditional) fishing, which uses bait to catch a lot of fish, fly-fishing uses artificial flies and overhead casting to fool a fish. In general, fishing is on the rise, with states such as Minnesota reporting a 26 percent increase in fishing licenses. But for many, fly-fishing is appealing because of its simplicity and the masterful in-water casting techniques that connect anglers with nature.

“We’ve wanted to learn for years so that we could fly-fish while backpacking into high alpine lakes,” says Katie Stapleton, a California resident who recently took up the activity.

When the coronavirus hit in March, fishing shops found themselves questioning their futures along with other businesses. But thanks to the Internet, a resurgence in online sales offered a much-needed glimmer of hope.

“It was like everyone realized this was their opportunity to do the things they always wanted to but never previously had the time,” says Hilary Hutcheson, fly-fishing guide and owner of Lary’s Fly & Supply in Columbia Falls, Mont.

Although Hutcheson didn’t originally have an online shop, she quickly pivoted and watched sales boom through digital fly-tying lessons. “It was like arts and crafts for anglers,” she jokes.

As the country reopened, outdoor recreation surged. According to Perkins, Orvis’s online sales are raging, with its fish business up 100 percent compared with last year. Perkins also notes that sales on the Clearwater and Encounter entry-level rod kits are up 100 percent in early June, indicating that beginners are jumping into the sport.

Tim West, owner of Breckenridge Outfitters in Breckenridge, Colo., has noticed the same thing. “Our guided trips are insanely busy,” he says. “We’ve seen a lot of first-timers coming in because they couldn’t travel or do other things like backcountry skiing, and that snowballed into guided trips once we were allowed.”

Stapleton is one of those beginners who opted for a guided lesson. “After being shut inside through quarantine, we were dying to get outside in a safe way,” says Stapleton, who completed a course at Alpine Angling in Carbondale, Colo. “It’s like the perfect pandemic activity.”

Just like when Brad Pitt’s movie swept the country in 1992, fly-fishing is enjoying a moment in the spotlight. Here are eight reasons practitioners think fly-fishing is the perfect pandemic activity.

Crowds are frowned upon when fly-fishing. Many anglers go solo, and even those who fish with friends opt to maintain their distance to avoid “cross-casting,” or tangling one fishing line with another. Anglers always stand at least 75 to 100 feet away from each other, far surpassing the minimal social distancing requirement.

Traditionally, anglers prefer scenic rivers and lakes to partake in fly-fishing. However, when quarantine restrictions prohibited travel, people got creative and used whatever was accessible — even if it was a suburban pond or an urban river. “Fishing used to be narrowly defined,” Perkins says. “But now, if you have water and a fly rod, you’re fly-fishing.”

According to Orvis, an entry-level Encounter box kit, including the rod, reel and line, costs $200. Flies are $2 to $3 each. Permits are also needed. Prices vary from state to state, but annual resident permits cost roughly $50. And, once you make the initial investment, the costs dramatically subside.

Anglers are often fortunate enough to routinely fish, so they frequently practice “catch and release” and throw the fish back. However, when the pandemic led to empty store shelves, Tracy Nguyen-Chung in Portland, Ore., the founder of Brown Folks Fishing, noticed that some people were fly-fishing to feed their families. “The pandemic presented new challenges in seeking fresh food, so this provides a meaningful way to supplement groceries,” she says.

Chronic stress levels are up, says the American Psychological Association. Fortunately, time outside is proven to decrease anxiety levels, and fly-fishing itself has been shown to be both meditative and calming. “You experience and understand nature on an intimate level,” Perkins says. “It’s a lifelong journey of discovery, and I think that’s why it’s becoming a safe way for people to connect and give themselves. People are leaning into their health right now, and this feeds their emotional strength.”

Families are getting on the water more than ever before. Many families quarantined together, so they feel comfortable taking fly-fishing lessons together, too. According to West, Breckenridge Outfitters is seeing an increase in parents and kids wanting to get on the water. “Trout don’t live in ugly places,” he says. “So why not enjoy the beautiful scenery as a family?”

Hutcheson believes that many people turned to fly-fishing in the midst of the pandemic because it was a return to traditional skills. She notes that activities such as bread-making and gardening surged, too. “We may not outwardly realize it, but I think there is this deep-seated feeling of anxiety about what is happening in the world,” Hutcheson says. “So, we acquire this skill and become part of the life cycle. That’s how we know we are going to be okay.”

Nguyen-Chung agrees, emphasizing that fly-fishing has always been culturally significant for many anglers of color. However, as a queer Asian American woman, she notes that she has not felt comfortable solo fishing during quarantine because of the number of hate crimes against Asian Americans.

Some people may be out of work because of the pandemic, while others simply have surplus free time with the cancellations of events and travel. According to Nguyen-Chung, fly-fishing takes longer to learn because there is more to it than spin fishing, so this summer could be prime time to pick up a new skill. “The longer learning curve in this sport is part of the joy of the process,” she says. Stapleton, the new fly-fisher, agrees. Without her daily work commute (she now works remotely), she gained an additional two hours each day. “I’m not chasing traffic, so I can devote more to my hobbies,” Stapleton says.

Rochfort is a writer based in Carbondale, Colo. Find her on Twitter or Instagram.