I’d like to call it wisdom, but that small voice from the Eternal Child Within suggests it ain’t smarts, it’s unwelcome gentrification.

Prior to age 30 a weekend fishing trip was a buddy calling Friday night with a twenty burning a hole in his pockets, a pack of bologna, and a blanket. As long as you had the cash to match his tank of gas, the details fell into place when the creek came into view.

As daylight turned to darkness, the absence of proper planning meant, “You didn’t bring a flashlight? Guess we’re sleeping here.” Meals were spur of the moment, “I got some bread, some moist toilettes, and … SWEET, Tic Tac’s …”

Years later, my coworkers and I are headed up to Manzanita Lake for the weekend, and the water cooler conversation sounds like the antithesis of all we held sacred…

“You aren’t bringing a tent? You ain’t sleeping with me!”

Nope, as compelling as your narrow arse is in the moonlight, I thought I’d just toss in a tarp and a bag and call it good.

“There better be showers at the campground. You think they have showers there?”

You’re going to be arse deep in water all day, you think bathing will be that much of an issue, and if so - what about simply going swimming, like Jim Bridger…

OK, so it’ll be steaks Friday night, but what about Saturday night?

We could fight over the bones the bears leave us, or we could break camp and return a day and half early, just before we starve to death.

What do you guys put on your steaks?

Teeth mostly, sometimes fingers.

I’m trying my level best to steer the conversation to the important stuff; ensuring everyone is bringing a rod, someone is packing a float tube pump, which fly shop we’re stopping at so everyone has flies, how old is your tippet, knotted versus knotless, and will “NumbNuts” remember to bring his wading boots this time.

They’re having none of it, good sports, but somewhere between 20 and 50 we lost or gained something. Creature comforts asserted themselves, and invulnerability or spontaneity were lost when old bones touched cold ground, with wood smoke no longer the after shave of choice.

Well, what about Breakfast?

That’s the meal you and Martha Stewart slept through, I call it lunch, which will be the first time my feet touch dry land since dawn broke.

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I’m guessing something is in order as Singlebarbed turns “one” today.

Blogging is hellish enough and a niche subject like fly fishing reminds me of a High School English assignment, “write 200 words on the appearance of a spoon.” “Round and shiny” comes easily enough but there’s still 198 more words left and you’re dry.

428 posts in 365 days is a lot of practice. I’d always been taught that writing is like a muscle and must be exercised to keep tone. The slow evolution of stilted, unfriendly prose to labored and ponderous - suggests something’s changing. It appears I require a lot more “reps”  before the “Ghosts of English Teacher’s Past” will stop rattling those chains each night.

Maybe cutting those classes was a bad idea..

1000 valid comments and 4000 attempts to sell you Viagra. I’m not sure whether the fishing fraternity has a problem with tumescence, but the spam ‘bots think you do. This is strictly, “don’t ask, don’t tell” from my perspective, but if you’re interested in offshore Viagra made from Kitty litter and Agent Orange, I’ll send you some links.

The Contest That Was Never Announced

The winner of the Singlebarbed “Contest That was Never Announced” is Singlebarbed reader, San Mateo Joe. SMJ commented about twice as often as other readers, on 40 pieces total, and has earned his choice of 40 dozen trout flies - or a new Orvis T3 9′ #4 rod (with a prominent “R” on the cork), and 20 dozen flies of his choosing.

Knowing he sat on the last one and may have nothing to wave in anger, requires us to assist. It should prove a sturdy backup should his arse get a taste for more graphite. Comments are as rare as 20″ trout, and even bad writing is a lot of work, it’s nice to know someone reads this stuff besides my Mom me.

SMJ, you let me know what’s needed, but you can forget about the #18 married-wing Silver Doctor’s …

My thanks to all of you for enduring the last 12 months of split infinitives, outright made up words, and dangling participles, and I’m looking forward to some serious misspellings, crazed hyphenation, and outright lies next year.

Bare Bear Bayer with me.

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I thought the biggest challenge for a CEO was making the company profitable, increasing market share, and ensuring their stockholders were rewarded by their investments.

Most of the news coming from Wall Street suggests otherwise, enormous compensation not tied to any real performance metric, declining stock prices and exposure to “Sub Prime” combining to earn them the boot.

In addition to focusing on the really important stuff, we’ve earned their attention via CEOchallenges.com - where the privileged “boy’s club” gets to flex their sporting muscle in the contest of their choosing.

I’m not bitter, just concerned that one of these sweet smelling types will break a fingernail is all …

On behalf of each CEO who registers for this event, 50 percent of net proceeds will be donated to Fly Fishing Team USA, which finished eighth in the 2008 World Championships in New Zealand in March. “For Challenge winners, accompanying Team USA in Scotland is a great opportunity to meet the greatest anglers on the planet as well as make connections for future fishing worldwide,” said Buchner. “Participants can join us for team meals, assist us with charting, team scouting, and fish with team members during unofficial practice sessions.”

I recognize the value of corporate sponsorship and how precious dollars are need to defray the costs to the talented fishermen that earn their berth, but it still gives me the “creeps.”

Having guided a lot of privileged corporate types in the “C-Class”, almost none could cast or tie on their fly without assistance. Team USA likely needs scouts and chart help, but not from a fellow that wakes up at 11:00 AM and insists on gluten-free wheat toast.

I’m guilty of a gross generalization, and am unashamed.

I’m looking for parity is all, you dabble in my beloved sport, distracting my anglers with company logos and gimcracks unrelated to the fishing, I want to run your company for six weekends a year …

That is a challenge worthy of your metal, Mr Wharton…

Note: Below is the graph of the stock prices of the larger companies participating in CEO Challenge. 

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Singlebarbed’s Chief Correspondent of Harsh Language and Hard Luck Stories, “San Mateo Joe”, reports back from last week’s Upper Sacramento foray.

Joe tells it better than I ever could:

I had good luck and a good time on the Upper Sac, with one exception: day one, on my first trip down to the river, the dry felt on my wading boots came into contact with some dry pine needles that were covering the rocks, and down on my fat ass I went. I suffered no damage, but the Orvis fly rod I was carrying snapped neatly above the cork. (There’s no “R” on the cork, so Orvis has agreed to repair or replace it, free of charge.) I wasn’t carrying an extra rod, so I peeled a bunch of line off the reel, and after putting the reel into the top of my waders, I managed to do a decent job of covering the river with the long end of the stick. My brother then showed up and lent me his backup rod – a telescoping contraption he usually takes whenever he goes backpacking. I ended up catching lots of fish, all on a parachute mayfly pattern – probably the best evening I’ve ever had on the Upper Sac. 

A few days later I headed over to the McCloud with a friend of mine. I’d never been there before, and I must say it’s a beautiful river. We camped at Ah Di Nah, and fished the river below the campground that night. There were large stoneflies everywhere, but I didn’t see any fish coming up for them, so I tied on a size 18 mayfly cripple. Hooked seven, landed four. My buddy who was fishing nymphs got skunked. The next morning we went down to the Nature Conservancy. It was a beautiful day, but tough fishing. I only managed five hookups; two to hand. Both took an ostrich herl soft hackle. My buddy’s a much better nymph fisherman than I am, and proved it by out-fishing me four to one. We checked the log at the end of the day, and most reported getting skunked, so I didn’t feel too bad.

Hope you enjoy the attached photo. The Conservancy looked like it could use a little class.

Proof that Singlebarbed readers are of superior stock, not by birthright - merely ingenuity forged in the cold bosom of Mercury, adversity, and greasy filling station breakfasts. In our book, “SMJ” stands for “Suddenly MacGyver Junior” - but the scorch marks on the surrounding trees suggest his show is for mature audiences, or at least those episodes where he breaks another rod…

Joe was gracious enough to include the flies that worked, that little soft hackle caddis looks like a dandy.

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There’s something magical about Old Guys, which is why I enjoy their company so much. I liken it to the baseball pitcher that knows he’s only got 90 pitches in his arm, and treats each without wasted motion, executing the delivery without the frantic movement of youth or temper, merely going about his business as thoroughly as his arm allows.

All of us are going to be one of those fellows at some point, it’s a matter of repetition and understanding - polished by wisdom and a life’s worth of experience.

I call it “Jedi Mastery” - the point in any angler’s career where catching and fishing are synonymous.

Fly tying has it’s own hellish struggle and eventual wisdom, and like fishing you rarely see past your inner demons until you can watch someone whose done it much longer than yourself. It’s frustrating as so much time is spent taming the unruly and expecting the worst, yet watching an older fellow whose materials meld in precise order, the unexpected taken in stride, and the outcome meticulous and preordained.

It’s Jedi Mastery, and after thousands of repetitions you learn you cannot tame an art form, rather it tames you.

A bare hook shank is staring at the abyss, your intentions are good and the execution practiced, only the outcome is in doubt. It’s the final frustrating phase that weeds out the unsteady, as your skills work against you; thinking the fly through a disciplined set of operations and when it doesn’t behave as expected, invoking the Mother of a Thousand Turns of Thread to teach it a lesson.

It’s simpler to watch an Old Guy.

I watched plenty in my youth, surrounded by them at the Golden Gate Angling and Casting Club in San Francisco. The 1960’s were playing out in a last gasp of LSD and Youth Movement, and the 70’s started ugly; Watergate and Heroin littered the park with the incoherent and disenchanted,  and GGACC was a reclusive and sunny venue to commiserate over kids and family stress, a place to sun yourself on a park bench while retelling stories of a quieter time.

The presence of the Winston Rod Company on Howard Street, run by Lew Stoner, and interest in accuracy casting, personified by Jimmy Green and Jon Tarantino, begat the Rajeff dynasty. The supporting cast lining the sunny benches was both authoritative and vocal, and young casters like the Rajeff’s were clay forged in rod physics, technique, and old guy tradition.

Steve Rajeff and his brother Tim made “kids” fashionable again - and old codgers redoubled their efforts to mould those with the maturity to watch and listen, rather than talk. They may have thought they were saving a generation, if they could only promote some of the “good kids” the rest of the generation had brood stock…

My dad introduced me to both the casting club and addiction by gifting me with a fly rod on my 16th birthday. I’d take the bus or bike out through the park and linger on the edge of the ponds hoping to stay off the radar of them old codgers on the benches. They were tough old birds, vocal and impatient - and if some kid mangled a cast more than twice - they were grabbing your arm, bending it to impossible positions insisting on immobility, and waiting for the first hint of youthful rebuke.

“Jack” was a intimidating old fellow, big sausage fingers broken and knotted from a lifetime of hard work, voice box removed and a gauze bib covering the cavity in his lower throat. I lived in terror of his gaze, the rolling gait of a sailor, and a snow white shock of hair was your only warning of misdeed - he wasn’t shy about heading in your direction if you mangled more than your fair share.

It was a sacred trust, as the open throat meant his fishing days were done, a single misstep wading and his lungs would fill with water. Casting was the only thing connecting him to his life long passion, and he was determined to makeup for any deficiencies in your genetic material or degree of devotion.

Jon Ray was at the opposite end of the spectrum, a fastidious and pleasant man, detail oriented and enamored of the perfection and refinement of casting. He didn’t fish often, despite managing the Aberchrombie and Fitch angling department, and later the San Francisco Fly Fisherman Ltd. store, the last vestige of Winston Rod Company after they traded South-Of-Market for Montana.

He was the first person I saw that trimmed graphite rods, taking a half inch off the tip or butt section to make the rod cast as it should - it didn’t matter that to the untrained eye it cast just fine - competitive casting was inches and feet, and shaving weight or refining taper was your only edge. Designer drugs and blood doping would come later to the Sporting Fraternity, in the past  only physics and artistry determined winners.

I never found out if it was Phil Miravalle or Jon that figured out to spool Amnesia onto a ten-speed rim, but watching the shooting head distance event always started with some out of town fellow unsnarling running line and the GGACC fellows looking either innocent or surprised, knowing they’d confounded the physics of it all.

Jon had a frail back and eventually had everything fused, preventing him from doing much of anything.

Old Guys and frailty are hand in hand, and I’m not sure whether it’s the mortality that makes a fellow receptive to passing on more than advice, or merely they’ve learned not to race us younger dimwits anymore.

In the last month I’ve acquainted myself with a new crowd of tough old birds, Shad chasers - fellows that cruise the American River river accesses looking for fish. Migratory fish and “crack of dawn” they’ll leave to young bucks, mortality and comfort takes a certain amount of visible fish to pry these fellows from the warmth of the truck.

Like the old guys at the casting club, the real event is to get out and mingle - leaving lawns uncut, petulant children asleep, and throwing enough gear in the back to categorize the outing as a fishing trip. Usually the only thing cast is cold coffee from a thermos cup - as the young fellows trickle back to the car after a morning of proving they’re tougher than the elements.

A friendly smile and welcoming banter, as they’re not racing us anymore - sullen and secretive is left to the young guys who’re are still vying for Alpha male - and the imaginary rep that goes with it.

Somewhere between the two is me, mostly I trudge back from the river under their watchful gaze, but I still listen more than I talk - so there’s a cup of coffee in it for me.

I remember the lessons of my youth, and never know whether the unshaven fellow with the friendly grin owns a rod company, or manages the local fly shop - their demeanor and tackle won’t give them away.

A battered fiberglass fly rod that’s likely caught more fish than I ever will, paired with a 60’s-era Pfleuger Medalist with a silvery patina of use. I’m in it for the camaraderie and the occasional nugget of information; what happened last week and what did it happen on … and these fellows can cite chapter and verse with the last couple of decades thrown in as backdrop.

It’s nice to know that there’s still a place in this sport for advanced age. All outdoor activity is physically strenuous, and once started down the diminishing physical path - there’ll still be a half hearted welcome from the perfumed tarts that follow in our footsteps.

I think that’s why the “Xtreme Fishing” movement is lost on me, some fellow declares himself a singularity by taking a fly rod to Mongolia, but the real stud is the old Mongol that endures the hand-wringing and tears - how blow driers are wasted space, and the Pizza Chopper isn’t coming.

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While laid up this weekend I had the opportunity to catch up on some of my reading, and John Gierach’s latest tome, “Fool’s Paradise” was at the top of the stack. It was an amusing and light read, something I sorely appreciated while running between bathrooms.

I confess I’ve never read any of his books, not because of anything haughty, just “Old Guy Eyeballs” that are shifting from 20-20 vision to a different prescription every other week. Makes my reading difficult and downright painful at times.

A loose fabrication of short essays about fishing for different species, punctuated with some stellar quotes and humorous anecdotes. It’s a traditional coffee table book, light and airy - neither technical nor taxing, akin to listening to your favorite grandfather recounting stories of his youth.

“I necessarily fear change except that it’s so seldom for the better. It’s just that I can live with any number of things going straight to hell as long as these streams continue to hold up. If this amounts to living in a fool’s paradise, don’t waste your time trying to explain that to the fool.”

It’s plain that Mr. Gierach is “old school” - one foot in the sport of his forefather’s, and the other in “contemporary” fly fishing. The marriage of the two “halves” drives both mirth and reflection on past outings and fish. Absent the technical jargon that plagues angling literature, he’s at ease with his skills and the honest pleasure of fishing dominates his nimble prose.

“I try to stay abreast of broad trends in the sport, but I guess I missed the moment when steelhead flies began to look and sound like sex toys.”

Gear and flies are an afterthought, despite veiled reference to the pleasure of bamboo rods, and he’s quick to point out those aren’t viable for anyone’s budget - despite the recent resurgence of the “cottage” artisans.

The book poses the author against a backdrop of fish species, pals, and odd circumstance. The unique struggles or tribulations to be successful in pursuit of each, punctuated by the humans and fauna that surround them.

“We always seem to be looking for places that aren’t used up yet so we can begin to use them up in our own small, modest way.” 

Time plays a pivotal role in most of the stories, and is met with the same tolerance of the inevitable; time lost, time squandered, and even perfect timing all play a part in every excursion. It’s as if the author wishes to reinforce that “time spent” is more important than all else, and both success and failure can be a worthy memory.

It’s a rare message akin to my own mantra, if it has fins and eats invertebrates there’s a helluva adventure waiting for someone.

“If things are going well and I’m getting out on the water every day, I’m probably getting enough fishing. If not, a fishing book just underscores what I want to be doing but can’t.”

Plenty of infirmity to underscore what I’d rather be doing, but I slurped my soup and let Mr. Gierach blaze the trail for me.

Technorati Tags: john gierach, fool’s paradise, fly fishing, book

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The Sacramento Bee reports that both anglers and hunters have shown a small positive gain in California. Everyone interviewed is aghast for an explanation, and some truly odd theories are being bandied about…

• Baby Boomers are retiring so they have more time to hunt and fish.
• Women are participating.
• The Organic Food movement, an offshoot of “eat local” - wherein consumers are asked to reject foods from foreign locales - and seek food raised locally.

When you see a culinary trend like that, those who have been associated with hunting or fishing say, ‘ I can go get me some of that’, ” said Sonke Mastrup, Fish and Game deputy director. “It adds to the allure or prestige. Not only are you serving wild game to your friends, but it’s game you got yourself.”

I damn near exhaled coffee through my nose after reading the above gem. Leave it to a deputy director to demonstrate how little the department knows about who their constituency is and what motivates them.

I would find it much more believable were they simply to say, “we counted all the kids bringing handguns to school as hunters, and if we found a knife or garrotte on them, we figured they were fishermen too.”

With the preponderance of Earth types, Vegans, animal activists, and folks that believe “radishes have feelings” dominating the political skyline - to say these folks want to shed blood as it’s “organic” is pretty damn out-of-touch.

Most Californians start backpedaling when they realize you own a weapon, and if offered anything without a Safeway price tag, they’ll politely decline - as somehow it’s not sanitary.

Just my two cents, let the pennies fall where they may…

Technorati Tags: Sonke Mastrup, Fish and Game, California fishing and hunting, license increase

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I’ve seen much hand wringing and ire over fly names. Idle banter and fly fishing forum chat quickly turn to religious discussions over the ethical way to name your latest creation.

I’m puzzled why ethics should enter into it at all. Fishermen aren’t known as paragons of virtue, and fly fishermen are the worst of the lot.

At the crux of the debate is variations, how adding a green tail to a known pattern isn’t considered a new fly, merely a variant of whatever the tail got pinned on. I’ve no issue with the concept, just surprised how worked up fishermen get over the whole naming thing.

We could use a biblical scheme, laced with “begats” and immaculate conception - but we don’t use an oral history anymore, relying on books and printed media for hints of origin.

“Silver-Arsed Wombat Begat Green-tailed-silver-tipped Wombat begat Reduced-Low Water Wombat-with-egg-Cluster” seems overly tedious and would drive the guy labeling the fly bins crazy.

There’s the “Kentucky Derby” method, using Sires and Dams - but that’s  just as cumbersome.

Personally, I prefer the “Middle Management” naming schema - if the fly is deadly, I take credit for it - and if not, I blame someone else for its shortcomings.

I believe Darwinism holds for fly names as well, a hint of risque or fun is likely to make it more memorable than “that White fly.”

We’re not going to settle the issue here, but I’ve never cared for “tagging” flies with personal names - too many “Tim’s” and “Steve’s” for me to remember, and it lacks any of the flavor and energy that fly fishing represents.

Dave Whitlock started the “tagging” phenomenon back in the 1980’s, everything that came out of his vice was “Dave’s” or “Whit’s” - something or other - a practice that virtually guarantees oblivion. Old flies handed down from dusty tomes have catchy names and “Bob’s” or “Dave’s” isn’t among them.

I’m guessing immortality is the root of the practice, as vanity has no place in angling - especially after you smear insect repellant on your face using the same hand you dipped in the salmon egg jar…

Might as well name the creation whatever you like - and if you’ve just met the guy with his hand out for your flies - mention it’s a “Skunk with a Green Butt” rather than risk “Green Butted Skunk.” If you’ve just caught six fish and he’s caught none - no sense goading the fellow further.

But if you’re determined to inflict a new fly in everyone’s box - show some pizzazz .. I wouldn’t make room for Bob’s Stonefly Nymph on general principles - but I’d tie crap outta them if were called the “Snotty Dilettante” or “Rest-home Orgy.”

Think of the rest of us for once…

Technorati Tags: fly fishing, fly names, a Rose by any other name

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Where’s them damn bargains you hinted at?

The Orvis resellers on eBay are Adam’s Outlet, a fly shop in Austin Texas, and Redwoodloft, a wholesaler in Virginia. Both companies have essentially the same Orvis inventory, but Adam’s Outlet is a fly shop, with a broad range of tackle and resells Hardy, Cortland, and Scientific Anglers rods.

Redwoodloft markets tackle under both the Redwoodloft and Redlineloft eBay stores.  One deals in the tackle and the other sells all the clothes, in the last month they’ve adopted the Adam’s Outlet model, and Redlineloft appears to market the bulk of their rods.

They’re the Big Boy’s, combining for nearly 50000 sales of Orvis products, it’s two “mean old dogs” warring over the same turf, adopting each other’s sales pitch and tactics, and evolving their offerings to maximize profit.

Other vendors exist, like Virginia Wholesalers - another largely Orvis reseller. In excess of 10000 sales - and in traditional style with incomplete sizes and disjoint quantities. They’re in a similar mode as Redlineloft - lots of clothing and sundries, rods and fly lines.

The eBay trail is forked and elusive, many vendors buy from other eBay sellers for resale under their own “tent.” It’s a common practice - and one glance at their buyer’s feedback will show where they bought the tackle from and how much they paid for the item.

Peeling the eBay Onion

We need definition and nomenclature to assist in answering the burning question, “exactly what are these rods and what’s my risk in buying one?”

“Badging” is the practice of marking rods with maker’s name, rod attributes, and series information - we’re so used to seeing it we hardly give it a second’s notice.

Orvis rods on eBay have three styles of “badging”; “traditional” - identical to the rods in their catalog, with the addition of a small “R” branded on the cork grip. These are likely production overstock without flaw - simply offloaded to make room for next year’s models.

“Incomplete” - the rod specific information on the blank, the presence of the “R” on the cork, and “Orvis Graphite” in place of the normal rod markings. As the badging is different than production it’s likely these are cosmetic seconds, removed from the assembly process once some minute flaw is found.

More recently is the “Orvis Factory Second” label with “R” on the cork, and rod specific information. This could be a response to someone removing the tell-tale “R” off the cork and attempting to pass the rod as a full price purchase.

Both “Incomplete” and “Factory Second” styles lack series information on the blank, nothing identifying the rod as Zero Gravity, T3, Green River, etc.

All of the resellers have different explanations, and the “R” on the cork has been the subject of much conjecture.

Adam’s Outlet insists, “THIS ROD IS NEW. THE CORK IS MARKED WITH A SMALL “R” SO THAT IT CANNOT BE RETURNED TO ORVIS FOR A FULL PRICE REFUND. ORVIS WILL REPAIR THE ROD FOR A FEE IF BROKEN.

It’s understandable that Orvis wouldn’t want to extend carte blanche to a rod resold twice, but not mentioning it may be a “factory second” is a tad unworthy. It may or may not actually be a blemished rod, chances are it was sold to them as such.

Then again, Adam’s Outlet has more than one version: THIS ROD IS NEW,WITH ALL FIRST QUALITY PARTS (BLANK AND COMPONENTS). THE ROD HAS NO DEFECT BUT MAY HAVE COMPONENTS DIFFERENT FROM THE CATALOG VERSION. THE CORK IS MARKED WITH A SMALL “R” SO THAT IT CANNOT BE RETURNED TO ORVIS. ORVIS WILL REPAIR THIS ROD FOR A FEE IF BROKEN.

Using different components may be consistent with an “end of production” run of rods, wherein the maker simply builds what blank stock he has left with what fittings are scattered about - yielding a rod different from the catalog glossy.

Redwoodloft (Prior to 5/1/2008)

 Note:  “R” on cork grip indicates rod has been refurbished.

Refurbish may be something different than what I imagine - to me refurbish means the rod has been used and a component needs repair. A rod owner intent on repair wants the rod back, where would Orvis find a stash of “used” rods to refurbish? This may be a semantic issue (see Orvis comment below).

Redlineloft (after 4/1/2008)

CONDITION: As pictured, rod is brand new, never used and in ORVIS rod sleeve (Color of sleeve may be tan or green). First grade cork (marked w/ a small “R” to prevent returns to Orvis - see photo). Orvis will repair this rod for a fee if broken.

James Hathaway of the Orvis Company has the best answer:

“The R stands for “Really Awesome”

Actually, you are correct, it stands for “Refurbished”. They are rods sold at our tent sales and things like that.

“Tent Sales” suggest the occasional “maker’s premise” type sale - held on special occasions and in limited quantities - belying the multiple thousands of rods sold through eBay.

For civilians with less principles, sanding off the “R” on the fully badged rod is child’s play. Orvis’s badging the rods with “Factory Seconds” and vendor greed seems to have partly addressed this problem.

Both Redlineloft and Adam’s Outlet are canny profit motivated vendors, they’ve got a lock on the market and selling a rod for double their money is good, but quadruple is better. Both vendors have adopted identical practices, rather than auction the rods they “fish” for anglers unfamiliar with their method.

How they’re Sold

The rod debuts on eBay as a “Buy It Now” sale, often at $250 - $500 price. The accompanying prose mentions “new PRODUCTION rod” and the MSRP is listed on the advert, showing the purported $600 new - only $350, so buy it now!

On the surface, that’s a $600 rod at nearly half price, and they sell plenty to the unwary. Both parties are happy, great transaction - and the only “foul” is the fellow could have purchased it for half that.

If the rod fails to sell, it shows up as an auction the following week. Starting price for Adam’s Outlet, 99 cents. Redline/Redwood starts it at $99 for the high end, less for the lower end tackle.

Both the “Buy It Now” and auction sales are seven days duration.

A canny consumer notes the rods listed from the vendor as “Buy It Now”, waits a week and bids on the rod he wants via auction.

Both vendors appear to be selling the same models of rod (see below for what’s available), so the best deals are when each has the same rod at auction. Often they’ll replace the recently sold with an identical model, and the two of the folks competing with you just bought one - suddenly your competition is greatly reduced.

It’s not necessary to be so discriminating on the larger lined rods, you can usually get the lines 8-13 with little competition. The market for large rods is much smaller, with AFTMA 9-13 garnering only a few bids each. In many cases you can get a traditional 9ft. 9 weight for the initial bid - $99.

That’s one hell of a bargain for a $600 rod, and it’s a self fulfilling prophecy, the patient angler gets the cookie.

What’s Available From these Lads

I’ve included the Excel ebay_vendor_record.xls spreadsheet of the rods sold by the two vendors, this file lists the models, pieces, line weight, series, opening price, and final sales price for January - March 2008. I’ve included both vendors (on separate pages) so you can see the magnitude of sales.

These statistics are from the feedback logs on eBay, which are pruned each month. Each vendor retains about three months of live log, so you can see what they’ve done recently - I saved these months so the facts aren’t lost with the pruning.

In my mind, the magnitude of sales is formidable - none of the shops I worked at could hold a candle to either vendor, in the best of times.

For completeness, assume 15-20% of the sales were not listed, unless the purchaser left feedback, the sale will not show on the eBay log, so you need to boost the dollar totals to compensate.

Who’s Hurt by all This

That’s the toughest question of all. Certainly the “little guy” gets a nose bleed - he’s stuck with last year’s inventory without the options of the manufacturer - and lives in fear that Sage or Scott may cut off his supply if he unloads them at cost.

The manufacturers solve the near term dilemma of what to do with unsold inventory, but pays dearly in reputation when their retail outlets find out they’ve been misled by a “do as I say, not as I do” posture. The retail chain won’t squawk too much - they’re dependent on product to add legitimacy to their storefront - without Simm’s or Sage products can you call yourself a fly shop?

The manufacturers can take injury if their practice becomes widely known and the reseller supply ample - no one will buy their $700 rods anymore - we’ll all wait 12 months and get it for $150.

You’ve got the tools, the available models, and the method, I’ll let you decide what to do with the knowledge.

Thinking outside the Box

Many are skeptical of the eBay process, assuming the vendors are not as safe as the local fly establishment. The shift from “human” vendors to companies has been largely missed by the casual shopper. There’s still plenty of human foibles and interaction - but the eBay marketplace seems dominated by established retail and wholesale outlets - not someone cleaning their attic like it once was.

Fly shops that adapt well to the e-Marketplace are doing a phenomenal business. Case in point, Leland Outfitter’s of San Francisco - to assist customers in the purchase of new rods and reels, they’ll take your old tackle and auction it for you on eBay. Professional photography and web savvy has given them a market no other fly shop has an inkling of - more importantly, all the used tackle sells smartly. Angler’s profit because their $700 rod is now $500, and Leland sells additional new tackle, a positive outcome for both participants.

Shoppers are still more comfortable doing business with a store - a great opportunity for a small shop with unconventional vision.

Technorati Tags: Orvis, eBay, Buy It Now, fly fishing rods, bargain

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Tough times are on us and if it’s not on sale it’s not a priority. Too many folks strapped with burdensome mortgages must make do with less, and the repercussions aren’t limited to the the fly fishing industry, it’s all industries, part of the Recession they whisper about in hushed circles.

We haven’t had one in 20 years or more, for some this will be an eye opener, coupled with the decline in the US greenback and 4.5% inflation and your dollar has to work much harder.

Fly fishing is a niche sport, and while rich folks aren’t likely to be affected, the rest of us will tighten our belts - with the obvious luxury of $800 rods and $500 reels, I expect to see the retail landscape get thinned considerable.

There’s multiple reasons for what’s coming, economics is the primary driver - but most fly shops are poorly capitalized and poorly run, compounding their burden. It’s a labor of love for proprietors, not the “last man standing” predacious Capitalism common to larger industries.

The manufacturers won’t help at all, their allegiance will quickly run to the “Big Box” stores in an effort to weather the coming storm, putting additional price pressure on the little fellow down the street.

So who’ll survive? Not a simple answer, but two styles of shop should continue to tread water; the small destination shop that has all the flies for the local waters, and the canny fellow that leverages the Internet to broaden his customer base.

I’m thinking eBay is the biggest winner, and some startling facts are coming to light after spending the last four months researching this ”e-tailing” auction behemoth.

“I’m more interested if they have clearance items,” she said.

EBay is the undisputed King of clearance; it sells trash and exceptional items with equal ease. It boasts a friendly intuitive interface and allows unlimited sales without distinguishing between individuals and companies.

Hundreds of small fly shops make use of their auctions, a roughly equal mix of small seasonal destination shops and larger city stores. Most hawk their wares at retail prices, giving them a robust electronic “second market” or lengthening their season, making them independent of their locale.

So where does that new rod go after it doesn’t sell? The same place everything else goes - eBay.  It’s a potpourri of folks downsizing their garage, relatives selling Grandfather’s estate, and “bricks and mortar” stores taking advantage of the ease to market interface - to dampen their toe in e-commerce.

It’s the same story with last year’s tackle, eBay represents an enormous outlet for clothing, sundries, and last year’s graphite rods - it’s the largest fly shop in the world, and many fly fishing manufacturers are assisting in a way that’s not obvious.

New is better, and we’re reminded constantly in the angling periodicals. 65 million modulus was last year - this year it’s 73 million modulus, and if you have an ounce of decency - you’ll buy two…

Clothing and rods change every year - and small retailers can’t keep pace. Destination shops with a 6 month season - can’t unload high priced tackle as easily as urban, year round, stores - who are struggling to sell $800 fly rods in a worsening economy, and have an additional obligation having to stock a “comprehensive” shop. Rods and “big ticket” items make only a small percentage of yearly sales, yet they command a lot of inventory dollars. The rapid evolution of models leaves the “bricks and mortar” vendors struggling with old stock and assimilating the latest “improved” models.

While the “little guy” struggles with low-margins and high-prices,  manufacturers dump their leftovers on the wholesale market. Freed of the burden of hundreds of last year’s rods, manufacturers introduce next year’s model, unleashing their advertising juggernaut with little regard for their traditional distribution chain.

It’s the unspoken rule of the rod making community, ”.. you will not undercut my pricing, and if you do we’ll cut you off.” It was the constant in my 20 years of fly fishing retailing, little has changed for the small shop today.

A shop’s only price flexibility is when they build their own brand on manufacturer’s blanks.  The occasional demo rod can be sold as it’s been handled, but margins on prebuilt rods are paper thin, making the smaller stores especially vulnerable to the whim and timing of manufacturers.

“Cosmetic Seconds” is a unique practice and not all vendors offer “blemished” rods. In the past it was limited to “warehouse only” sales or special events at the maker’s premises; that’s changed with the electronic marketplace, it now boasts a multitude of sins and advantages, and a canny angler can be both stung, and count coup.

Many eBay vendors boast of such deals, it’s more than rods and tackle, it’s dishes, hunting knives, and car tires. Rods are a microcosm of the larger practice.

A cosmetic second is a rod that’s passed the inspection of the blank, is structurally sound and is wrapped and fitted for sale. Either the final fit incurs a blemish on reel seat or cork, or the finish has a flaw that prevents the rod from passing final inspection.

It could also be a rod produced and not sold, excess inventory at the manufacturer’s facility - and is a real liability in an industry that does not allow drastic price reductions to dispose of leftover models.

I contacted Echo, Scott, Orvis, Winston and Sage, hoping for information that would illuminate this process better - but only Winston and Sage responded. Orvis acknowledged the missive but did not respond.

Sage was characteristically terse, “We do not sell any blemished or second quality blanks or rods.”

Winston elaborated a little: Our policy is that we do not sell “Seconds” or “blemmed” rods. Each person who handles and rod is empowered and expected to stop production of the rod when a problem is found. For example, if a builder notices a blem in the finish of a tip section they will not use that section but rather destroy it and get a different section. At that point they will ferrule the rod out and then send it to the next station. Then the person at that station inspects the rod. If all is good the rod continues through until it ends up in inventory. The goal is for every rod in inventory to be perfect.

Neither vendor distinguished between the “factory second” and excess inventory, nor could I find evidence that they wholesale excess product on eBay.

Surprisingly the Orvis Company of Manchester, Vermont is the largest contributor to the eBay phenomenon. Because of the volume of items and vendors found, it suggests this is a significant source of income - and a method of employing a “big box” style distribution chain without owning it publicly. It allows them to remain above the fray - retaining their “little store in Vermont” image - while undermining vendors that must sell their product at strict retail.  

I’ve researched the feedback logs of a half dozen Orvis resellers, who combined have sold nearly 50,000 Orvis items since January of 2008. The bulk of their sales are the seasonal clothing Orvis sells, but among their totals are more than 2000 Orvis rods, thousands of Orvis fly lines, flies, and all the terminal tackle necessary to equip a couple regiments of hardened fly fishermen.

The rods are selling briskly, averaging 22-25 per week, and I can’t think of any fly shop that does that kind of volume anywhere. In these declining economic times, I’d think some of the existing Orvis dealers would want a shot at this profit cow.

Last year’s Orvis rod, a discontinued model or cosmetic second, starts it’s eBay life somewhere between $90 and $250 - a tasty bargain for a $600 flyrod. The trout models usually end up selling for about $180 (includes postage), and the larger line size rods (greater than AFTMA #7) sell for slightly less. Current rods sell for a higher premium than older tackle, despite one rod being only 6 months older than the other.

All the Orvis series are available with the exception of the latest rods. The Orvis “Helios” is available from many fly shops with storefronts on eBay, all offer them at traditional retail prices.

“Zero Gravity”, “T3″, “Green River”, “Clearwater” and “Silver Label” rods are available from wholesalers, but despite selling many hundreds of the rods, their selection is incomplete. This suggests “excess inventory” offloaded to jobbers rather than Orvis’s systematic use of a new sales channel.

Scientific Anglers and the venerable Hardy of Alnwick appear to use a similar mechanism, though neither is a mainstream US vendor - Hardy is based in the UK, and Scientific Anglers has all but left the high-end rod market, relying instead on their fly lines for the lion’s share of revenue.

A canny “e-tailer” likely starts the auction near their cost, within 15-20% of what’s paid the manufacturer. They have a steep discount because the manufacturer is motivated, get a break for buying in bulk, and get to charge higher than normal postage, a huge revenue stream for eBay vendors, with many charging $20 or more per delivery.

With little detail other than auction prices, I’ll assume the vendors are paying about $80 for each Orvis high-end series rod, with the price ratcheting downward based on series - and their target demographic, entry and mid level anglers.

eBay empowers the seller with only two tools; the “Buy It Now”, and the traditional auction format. Auctions are typically seven days duration, with  hopeful anglers driving up the price. There’s little consistency other than the final price, as many retailers start their rods at 99 cents, playing havoc with my guesswork.

Pricing for Zero Gravity, T3, and the Trident TLS series typically started at $99, Silver Label around $75, and the Clearwater, Green River, Streamline rods at $20. The implication is the manufacturer is selling the rods to the wholesale vendors to recoup their materials, fittings, and labor, and generating profit - it’s a canny operation, but it’s likely to cost them later.

In my opinion, Orvis has provided a glimpse of what today’s rods cost to make. A pristine rod ($700) may yield around $595 profit, allowing for a simplistic calculation based on a $20 aluminum case and linen rod sock. That’s a 566% profit margin. For a niche industry like ours that’s required - you can’t sell millions of them - there’s not enough millions of us.

It reaffirms my “old guy” sensibilities that no contemporary* rod is worth more than $200, and thanks to the miracle of e-commerce, I can guarantee I pay a lot less than those that do.

Stay tuned for Part 2, wherein we look at the Big Boy’s of Orvis’s eBay vendor community, their auction practices, and how to score a $600 rod for a quarter of the price.

* Contemporary rod is defined as a mass produced rod from synthetic materials, spat onto a sheet of waxed paper, rolled under intense heat and pressure like a Twinkie, then fawned over by fanbois’.

Technorati Tags: ebay, Orvis, Sage, Winston, Echo, ecommerce, canny business

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