Watch your backcast so you don't hook a neighbor
Okay. This one's short, and it's not scary, it's just something nobody thinks about until it happens to them or somebody standing next to them.
When you cast a fly rod, the line goes backward before it goes forward. That's the whole motion. Forward cast, backcast, forward cast. Most beginners spend all their attention on where the fly lands out in front of them and zero attention on what's happening behind them. I get it. That's where the fish are, that's where your eyes go.
But there's a hook on the end of that line, moving at some speed, and if there's a person, a dog, a bush, or your own ear back there, it's going to find it.
The ear thing, since I brought it up
I've hooked my own ear. Fifth or sixth time out, still learning the rhythm, rushed my backcast and caught myself clean on the ear like an idiot. Barbless hook, thank goodness, so it came out easy, but I still had to explain the little mark at church the next morning. That's the whole reason I'm mildly firm about barbless hooks in this class. Pinch every barb down, always, no argument from me on this one. It's easier on the fish and it is a lot easier on your ear.
What this looks like on the river
You're usually not fishing alone out there. The Provo gets people spaced along the bank, sometimes closer together than you'd like, especially on a nice Saturday. Before you start casting anywhere new, take a second and actually look behind you. Not a glance. A real look. Is there a tree. Is there a person walking up. Is there a kid with a dog who just wandered into your space. Give yourself room, and if you don't have room, walk somewhere else before you start whipping line around.
Here's the thing, most fishing spots aren't private. You share the bank. Part of being a decent person out there is managing your own space so you're not the guy who plants a fly in somebody's hat.
Practicing this at home
You can build the habit in the backyard, and honestly you should, because the backyard is where you find out you have a problem before the problem involves another human.
- Stand somewhere open. Away from the fence, away from Tricia's rose bushes (learned that one the hard way, she made me stop whipping the fence entirely for a while).
- Before every single cast, glance back. Not just the first time. Every time, until it's automatic.
- Slow your whole motion down. Most backcast accidents come from rushing, snapping the rod back too fast because you're excited to get the fly out front. Slow rod, pause, let the line straighten out behind you before you come forward.
- Have somebody stand off to the side and just watch your loop. Ask them if it looks like it's popping like a whip (bad, means you're going too fast) or laying out smooth (good).
If you don't have anybody to watch you, video yourself on your phone for ten seconds. You'll see the whole problem right away, usually it's obvious once you watch it back.
The story I have to tell on myself here
Tricia came out with me once. Sat on the bank with a book, not fishing, just keeping me company. I was fussing with something, re-tying probably, and she picked up my rod, made maybe her second cast ever, and caught a fish. Just like that. While I wasn't even looking.
I bring this up because she wasn't thinking about her backcast or her forward cast or any of it. She just watched me do it a few times and copied the rhythm, relaxed, no tension in her shoulders. Meanwhile I'm out there overthinking every piece of the motion. I still haven't fully recovered from that one, and I tell this story more than I probably should, but the lesson underneath it is real: tension ruins your cast. A relaxed, aware caster who checks behind them is safer and better than a tense one muscling the rod around.
So don't grip the rod like you're trying to strangle it. Loose hand, slow rhythm, and a quick look back before every cast. That's really the whole lesson.
Before next time
Practice the look-back in your yard or a park a few times this week, even with no rod in your hand, just the motion. It sounds silly standing there swinging your arm at nothing, but your body needs the habit before the water gets exciting and your brain forgets all about it.