Last week’s trip to the Pristine was the first I’d used my RISE 9’ #4 as the main rod while relegating the lightly injured Sage LL 905 as my backup. The Sage reel seat epoxy had given up the ghost last season and tightening the reel seat occasionally results in the rod butt removing itself from the wood insert.

I’ve been lazy given the repair is easy enough. I just need to find something with a fine point to spritz a little epoxy under the rear hood to make the problem go away.

While the RISE rod performed admirably under the steep, rock-hopping climb of the plunge pools, it didn’t like the back of the truck much – and after a small tangle at the tip between a partially strung rod and a fly imbedded in a fishing vest, I lost the top 3” of the tip without having a chance to defend it.

It’s not a defect so much as the odd leverage of the tangle, and while I’m still unsure how it happened, I was thrilled at the prospect of owning a second tip. The next morning I’m back on the water blessing that choice of foresight and frugality, and with a march ahead of me I put the rod together, but saved stringing the rod until I got closer to the water.

It’s one of the things I learned as a guide, what you think may be on the water never lives up to reality, so I hike down from the parking area to scan the water versus force feeding fish with my best guess.

/beginrant

I’ve not been a fan of the trend in four piece construction – mostly because every ferrule deadens the rod regardless of how light the material is, and figure most rod makers are victims of their own press, which assures us that four thicknesses of graphite when mated flex like two.

As they’re no longer asking us anglers what we want, three ferrules must be better than two, which is why a nine foot rod is now broken into four 27” sections, even though there’s no need.

/endrant

… and as I’m parting the bankside willows, ensuring I creepy-crawl slowly to blend in with the foliage until I can scan the water for working fish, I suddenly realize that the top 27” of my rod is missing.

While working through the willows, something had hooked one of the guides and pulled the tip right off the rod, and now I’m on hands and knees looking for a two foot length of brown, amidst a lot of brown things.

This didn’t end well. A 27” section of brown rod tip resembles every willow twig imaginable, and there was no chance of my finding the missing section.

I learned an important lesson given that it could of been much worse, and the car and my backup rod weren’t close by. Always string a four piece rod – even if it’s the end of the evening and you just broke off your fly, and can hardly see.

Reeling all that line into the reel is the expedient thing to do, but 27” of your rod tip can be removed without your ever knowing, and that fly line is the only clue you’ll have about being hung in a branch.