Only in the New York Times. An article about fishing in NYC turns into a rant by an elitist fly fisher. When will these fly fishers discover there is no difference between a hand tied fly and a chartreuse rubber worm? Click on the link for the full article, otherwise here's the highlights:After years of reading about how fishing is not really about catching fish, but about "the experience," I finally asked myself: Why not just save the gas money and avoid the aggravation of fighting traffic en route to the Catskills? Why not fish here at home, across the street in Central Park? The contrarian in me demanded that I use something other than a fly rod, the sporting weapon of choice for Manhattan-based anglers seeking "the experience" instead of big fish and lots of them. We took a footpath to a hidden corner and began casting. Before long, an indolent carp drifted up to have a look at Burke's popping bug.
I discovered that using a bait-casting rig demands that you know what you're doing, which leaves me out. I picked away at one tangle after another, while my crankbait (a baby shad with a pumpkin seed holographic finish, if you must know) dangled uselessly from my rod tip.
New York is in the throes of a fishing renaissance, thanks partly to an improved environment. Hot spot for bluegills is Orbach Lake, on Staten Island, and there are loads of black crappies in Van Cortland Lake in the Bronx. Prospect Park Lake in Brooklyn had the second-best catch rate of largemouth bass among all such bodies of water surveyed on Long Island, which is only partly explained by the fact that Williamsburg hipsters don't fish.
That did it. I immediately began to break down my gear. Fish? Who wants to catch fish? For me, it's all about "the experience" and that wicker picnic hamper containing a reasonable chardonnay and some interesting cheeses. Maybe the Catskills, with its legions of uncatchable trout, is the right place for me after all.
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