It was just one of those things. It didn’t really
mean Marvin Pincus had lost his mind. Consider this yourself for a
minute. Marvin had opened the mail that morning and in it was the
Fenwick glass fly rod he’d ordered. Oh, it was used, of course. But
there’s a feel to a Fenwick that only a man dedicated to a life of
using dry flies can appreciate.
Marvin had broken his ankle the previous week and was temporarily in
a wheelchair. It was his right ankle, so he couldn’t drive down to
the creek. And there, in his hands, was the Fenwick. He put it
together, attached a reel and some four-weight line and set it on
the couch and looked at it.
Marjorie was off visiting her sister, so she couldn’t help him. But
there’s a pull, an irresistible draw to a fly rod. He had to cast
It took Marvin about 20 minutes to negotiate the front steps with
that wheelchair and the Fenwick. Finally, he negotiated the sidewalk
and then the edge of the street itself.
Up came the Fenwick. A few swishes in the air told Marvin he’d done
the right thing in ordering the rod. So he ran out some line and
began casting. About halfway across the street was a large mulberry
leaf. He did a double haul on the line and sent the fly toward the
leaf. It took several tries before he hit it, but when he made that
cast, you could’ve sold tickets to it.
[to top of second
His fly came to rest about three
feet above the leaf and then fluttered gently down onto its target.
Marvin’s smile said it all.
Then the school bus came around
the corner full of kids heading home, and Marvin realized he was
casting a fly rod from a wheelchair onto dry pavement.
“Hi Mr. Pincus!” yelled one of the kids. “Catch anything?”
“A little slow today, Billy,” he yelled back.
“Isn’t it hard to catch fish without water?” Billy yelled.
“It’s okay, son,” Marvin said with a grin. “I’m using a dry fly!”
[Text from file received from
you by Fenwick. https://www.purefishing.com/pages/fenwick Feel