I had a fine flyrod stolen from my pickup this week. I’d fished with it for 20 years all over the Midwest. It was a Sage 5-weight, and though its casting action was a tad faster than I like, it could make a hundred-foot cast. It was superb for fishing in the wind. I’d caught channel cats up to 15 pounds with it on flies, taken stripers and wipers, all bass species, walleyes, crappies, sunfish of all kinds, trout, carp – pretty much anything that swims in Kansas. It was fitted with an Orvis disc-drag reel that I liked. Overall, it was far better than my backup equipment, so I kept it strung and ready in a hard case in the back seat of my truck. That way, I could slip it out at a moment’s notice if I got around the water.
I had no particular sentimental attachment to it. It was just always there on standby. And oddly, the thief left behind some other, more valuable stuff. Only the cased flyrod and a beat-up old camouflage jacket were taken.
I won’t collect the insurance due to a high deductible, and in the long scheme of life, things will move on. What’s worst is the fact I can no longer say that my small hometown of 25 years is safe from pilfering. I guess no one should suppose such things in 2012. But up until this week, it seemed true.