Being Decisively Defeated: Losing Battles to Big Fish on the South Platte River and Memories of Battles Lost on the Taylor

Rilke wrote a poem about a man watching an immense storm and suggests that there are some things in life that we are better off not challenging. Rilke suggests we can be petty in our attempt at controlling life.  He writes, “When we win it’s with small things and the triumph itself makes us small…What we choose to fight is so tiny. What fights with us is so great! If only we would let ourselves be dominated as things do by an immense storm we would become strong too.” He goes on to say, “Winning does not tempt that man. This is how he grows, by being defeated, decisively, by constantly greater beings” Rilke

I thought about this poem when I spotted a huge rainbow years ago. The big rainbow lay deep among two large submerged boulders on the Taylor River. Fish grow so large on the Taylor tail-water from feeding on Mysis Shrimp that is difficult for me to give a fair estimation of the fish’s size. As I made the cast, in my mind, I said to myself, “Over 32 inches and over 15 pounds.” And in looking back, I really do think the fish was every bit as big, perhaps even larger.

The first time I hooked this fish was on an RS2 nymph trailing behind a mysis shrimp on 4x fluorocarbon tippet. The fish shook his head several times as it twisted and arched out of the water falling down stream on the leader and breaking the tippet. The second time I survived the initial head shake and downstream leap. I fought the fish for several minutes before it suddenly seemed to say, “I have had enough of this game,” as it bolted across river and then back up stream along side a boulder breaking off again. There was nothing I could do.

Both times my line came back stripped of everything. My two flies were gone. Decisively defeated.

It is odd how when it comes to fishing we keenly remember the fish that get away. We remember being defeated. The fish and opportunities in life that get away from us seem to haunt us. As this poem suggests, perhaps we can grow from such “defeats”, if we handle them properly. I confess, I am not very good at growing from my defeats.

What interests me more though is the strange elation I can sometimes experience when I am decisively overpowered by a fish.  In contrast, I do not really remember very well the “victories” of those thousands of fish I have caught over the years. But rather it is those fish that defeat me and get away that I remember best and that stir something deep inside me.

I also thought about this poem  today  when after teaching a women’s fly fishing class on the South Platte, I spotted a  big rainbow. I made several casts before the big fish struck. The fish was hooked with the raising of the rod. Its’ powerful body contorted and twisted and then moments later the 5x leader severed.  

I stood on the bank with a stripped leader. I wondered if maybe it was a bad knot I had tied. Maybe there was a nick in the tippet or some wear and tear that did not allow the leader to endure the strain.  

Or maybe I was flat out defeated.

Yes, that was it!  I was decisively defeated! 

May there always be something bigger that lurks below the surface of the rivers I fish and below the surface of my heart that I know will always defeat me. Fishing in waters where I am not in control and often defeated has strangely and mysteriously become my greatest pleasure in fly fishing.