My class was on March 3rd and through all of the ups and downs…
I successfully made another bamboo fly rod without crying impaling anyone.
About a month before my class, I sent out an email asking for advice concerning my new bamboo fly rod. I asked Oyster clients to help design it…I did it…it was my fault.
I’ll own it here for all to scrutinize.
I asked for your input, and I heard you all…loud and clear.
A lot of you.
I opened the metaphorical can of worms.
There were so many heart felt, well thought out responses. Thank you. Of course, I also received the obligatory ridiculous responses as well (you know who you are…Richard).
There were so many responses related to donating my rod…point well taken. But there is one complication concerning that plan…
I don’t have my own trout rod. I borrow, steal and plead. Bill has never had the time to build one for me (or himself for that matter…have you seen his beat-up rod?!?!) so I opted to make a bamboo rod for myself. Donating a rod? I thought hard on this one…Next year…
I normally only write one of these blogs if I have a ”moment”…so…
Here was the unexpected inevitable revelation I had while sifting through your responses about designing my rod:
The bamboo fly rod is a sentimental thing, and I personally take this for granted.
Life has a way of blurring the lines between pleasure and responsibility regardless of what you may do for a living. It’s almost a relief to be reminded by YOU that I am surrounded by our future’s history (yes, that makes perfect sense to me) of craftsmanship not only at Oyster but also by the legacy that each rod crafted by our students carries on for generations.
Each handcrafted bamboo fly rod has a story.
Each story is unique.
These stories live on for future generations and allow us (as the makers) to leave a piece of ourselves with those who will only know us through others and what we leave behind…
So, here was my final choice for the rod I made this year…
Technically the rod is a 7′ 9″ 6 weight, very dark flamed with clear wraps with a medium fast taper. It is one of Bill’s favorite rods to fish and make for Oyster clients.
Now, the real details:
I built this rod for my daughter, Veronica Flower Oyster. The story I want to leave with her is this:
She is strong. She will bend but not break. Her pedigree is strength.
“Find your grace through Strength”
Simply put…my class was FUN! My Aunt Terry from Seattle was here again as well as our dear friend Kathy and her friend (and now ours) Cathy.
I can not resist sharing my top 5 insights during my class week:
1. We need to update our waivers.
2. Don’t wear white on day 2 (this was advice from a February student as well…point taken)
3. Listen to Bill
4. Wrap in clear!!!
5. A small amount of blood never hurt anyone (see #1)
Fire and Ice Trout!, Hunter’s devotion to fly fishing and pizza, Kara loves my crown |
A few other notables over the past month or so…Blue Ridge had the annual Fire and Ice Festival. It may or may not surprise you that I was crowned Ice Queen during the festivities.
I will say that it came as a bit of a shock because I thought to be the queen of anything, you must first leave your office?!?! The picture above is my assistant (Kara) who was a wee bit more excited than myself about the crown. I hear this honor requires that you ride on a float for the 4th of July parade…hopefully, this will be overlooked.
Also, Oyster was fortunate enough to be in a few publications. A few regional magazines were kind enough to mention us in addition to Worth and SW Georgia Magazine. These publications are a refreshing source of information in our digital age. Nothing can replace the touch and feel of print (I graduated from the UGA’s Grady College of Journalism…so I really do mean this).
Humbled, Happy and Blessed
Shannen
EDITOR’S NOTE: Oyster's original blog was on the google platform, Blogger, in 2009, before moving to WordPress. You may find a copy of this post on “The Bamboo Fly Rod Maker’s Widow” blog HERE. I have tried to preserve the integrity—or lack thereof—of each “Widow” post, especially to reflect the resources—or lack thereof—available at the time, as time and technology continue to freak me out.