Blind helping the (apparently) blind...
There seems to be something about that whole "anticipation followed by frustration" thing. Not only does your experience seem to neatly parallel my own first straight razor experience, it brings to mind one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life.
It was while learning how to fly fish. Part of the fly casting process involves "flipping" the fly as it has drifted below your location, on the river's current. This is done by making a small circle in the air with the tip of your fishing rod. You then "flip" the now aloft line, jerking it quickly back upriver from where you are standing, with the fly gently coming to rest again on the river's surface. Sound simple and relaxing, as you stand knee-deep in your waders, the cool river pushing slowly past, in a beautiful Cascades stream? Hmmm...
The experience was somewhat different for me as a newbie. The "flip and twitch" process is one of timing- and that is pure muscle memory. Like dialing my office phone number, if somebody asks me it, I have to stop and tap-out the numbers on an invisible phone pad. Strange that actually works, eh?
So I trod right into the river, my first time out. I didn't know it, but I was so noisy that I likely frightened every fish away for a quarter mile either way. I quickly proceeded to slip on a rock and land flat on my ass and a foot deep in the water, which meant my waders immediately filled and became heavy as a stones. I struggled and sloshed back to the shore, receiving death threats by way of the looks from the fishermen on the other bank as well as the friends who had invited me.
I emptied out my waders, losing my socks in the process, while tracking in a bunch of sand & gravel and trudged back out into the river. I mimicked the casting process I had seen on the WLN channel shows, but that just resulted in the fly whipping straight up & right back down where it had been- over & over again(!), or getting jerked back onto the shoreline, and even plopping into in the river with the velocity of a Heron (obviously not something that attracts fish). At one point I managed to get my line so tangled with one of my buddy's that it took about 10 minutes to get them separated. I was so embarrassed by my ineptness that I forgot to be disappointed that I had failed to catch anything. :rant:
We returned to the same stretch of river the next day (a bit brave or stupid, depending on how you look at it). Oddly, my technique had totally changed (more accurately, developed) overnight. With the frustration of the previous day behind me, it seemed totally natural to lightly "twitch" the tip of the rod up, and simultaneously "nudge" the rod with the heel of my upriver hand. This resulted in quick upcast of the fly, as well as the swift, straight, and flat upriver tug of a pro, with the fly slowly landing upon the water with a lazy "S" of line trailing behind- yet another trademark of a seasoned fly-fishermen. It was just right, cast after cast after cast, as I have been able to do ever since. When I think too much about the process, they become jerkier, with roughness in the resulting cast. Force it and fail. I make myself relax, and always the smoothness returns. Astonishing.
So glad I took the time to learn something new. Far more useful skill, fly fishing is, than all that "Calculus" back in school. Sometimes I even remember catch fish! But I guess that's not really why I'm there. ;)
Matt
