Rocky Mountain Genryu 2018

Rocky Mountain Genryu 2018

By Adam Klagsbrun

As I sit here this winter writing my first tenkara article in about six months, I think about what has changed, and what has not. Everything in my life has changed since last winter… its back to the grind, the patterns revolving around chasing business successes instead of trout more often than I’d like.

And just as much as it feels like everything has changed, plenty else has not changed… apparently people still think you can call warm water fixed-line angling “tenkara,” most of the American tenkara rod companies still have not sponsored new content from Japan, and we continue as Westerners to attempt to control and use the narrative to benefit business goals rather than tell the story of tenkara. C’est la Vie.

At this point, I’ve given up all hope that pointing this out will ever contribute to any positive change or reflection, and likely only cause defensiveness and strife… and why should it… but that doesn’t mean I can stop caring.

So in defiance of these slightly depressing realities, what should a tenkara angler do? Well, ignore it all, of course, and go on a Genryu trip with friends! So naturally I invite Rob & his friend Samb to join me for a reserved campsite in Rocky Mountain National Park for the last trip of the season. September is a great time to be in the mountains.

As usual, we scramble over boulders, climb waterfalls, lose valuable items to the wilderness, pick up some scuffs and bruises, lose a few big ones, and land countless beautiful native/wild trout in some of the most picturesque tenkara water Colorado has to offer.

Nothing beats a tenkara trip into this kind of territory… it is an all-in kind of experience, not for the faint of heart. Usually these trips involve sliding down a slippery hillside or dropping down an escarpment into a steepwalled canyon, hopefully far from the trail and protected from the riff-raff carrying bait-rods, the guides, the green weenies, and the Gore-Tex wader-brigade.

This kind of adventure is something we learned from Sebata-san, not something you can find out about from a fly shop. This is his style of tenkara… his kind of Genryu trip. Almost off the grid, but not quite as hard core as his trips. I like to wear his colors, or his shirt or use his lines when I’m in these places often, both to honor him, and to remind myself what inspires me to live out these adventures in the first place.

But Sebata is not the only one I think of in these moments. I think of Go Ishii, Keiichi Okushi, Kazuo Kurahashi, Otani Tadashi, Masayuki Yamano, Keiji Ito, and others whose names I am forgetting at this moment… I think of them and their kind words, their advice, their camaraderie, their honesty, the moments we shared and the friendships we started while in Japan. I don’t know if I thank them enough in real life, but I do it in my head all the time.

These thoughts lead me to settle into a rhythm on the river…. Step, plant my right foot… Keep my elbow in, and rotate at the shoulder not the elbow. Back cast to the sky. Stop the forward cast early. Aim above the water and let the fly fall gently… almost like swinging a hammer… then all of a sudden there it is… that beautiful wild trout I came here for has taken my fly aggressively and turned - and the fight is on!

I turn the fish a few times and angle my wrist back, bringing it to my feet, where I let a little slack into the line and it swims away. Rinse hands, dry fly on my shirt-sleeve, repeat all day.

But now the light begins to fade. My friends are tired. I am beat… it is time to turn around and go back to camp.

The fact that this is the last Genryu trip of the year weighs heavily on my mind, and as we navigate back down the way we came, I wonder what will change for next year… one thing that I know will not change though, is what tenkara truly is to me.