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I've always taken great pride in believing that I was the antithesis of fly-fishing snobbery. During the course of teaching casting lessons to lodge guests, when students invariably ask me about necessary equipment, my pat answer always includes something along the lines that it's what's between your ears that catches fish, not what's in your hand. In other words, it ain't the bamboo rods and fancy English reels that put trout in the net.

For the sake of argument, I consider the fly rod and reel to be little more than a simple fly delivery system. Of course, I must admit there is something to be said for the latent desire to cast a fly line in style. You don't need to look too long and hard to find plenty of high-end rod and reel manufacturers that offer some pretty fancy (and outrageously expensive) equipment that always sells very well. Believe me, the fly fishing world has its fair share of hoity-toity Harris Tweed types that mumble nearly unintelligible things like, "Yes, yes...quite right, quite right," around pipe stems firmly clamped between their back teeth.

Last weekend, as I've done for the past five years, I worked the annual Great Waters Fly Fishing Expo at the Sheraton South in Bloomington. It's a show that puts me in contact with dozens of professionals and fly-fishing vendors from around the country and the world. We all share a passion for the sport and many of us have become friends over the years. It's also the most effective way to advertise Seven Pines Lodge, where I instruct and guide.

A couple of years ago, the owners of the lodge commissioned Steve Pennington, an established and highly respected bamboo fly rod maker from Iowa, to build five custom-made rods for Seven Pines. On each rod blank, just above the cork handle and winding check, are the words, "Seven Pines Lodge," hand-inscribed in India ink. As it turned out, the lodge could only afford to purchase four of the five rods at the time, and those four sold rather quickly to lodge guests.

As usual, this year's show was well attended and I was the only one working the Seven Pines booth, so it took me until late Saturday afternoon to venture away from my post to poke around the huge show floor and see all of the vendors. Just a couple of isles down from my booth I stumbled upon a vendor that I'd never seen work the Expo before. You guessed it, Pennington Rods. I approached the Pennington booth and told the tall, older gentleman standing there, "Hello Steve, I'm Dan Brown. I'm the guide at Seven Pines Lodge." During the course of that brief introduction, Steve Pennington's eyes grew wide and he grinned broadly as he slowly reached underneath his display table to produce a hand-crafted red cedar hexagonal rod case. Steve said, "I brought this with me this weekend and hoped I'd bump in to somebody from your lodge. I've had the rod for a couple of years now and I can't sell it to anybody else because it has "Seven Pines Lodge" written on it. I'm willing to sell it to you for far less than I sold the other four. Like I said, the rod was made for you. It's the last one of five."

Holy Hannah! Talk about serendipity and karma and the Age of Aquarius and all that other hippie-dippy nonsense. Everything I thought about snotty anglers and their fancy bamboo fly rods went flying right out the window - the very window that Steve Pennington just threw open for me and me alone. What was I to do? All of a sudden I felt like Luke Skywalker. I was quickly losing my willpower as Steve smiled and pointed the rod case at me like a light saber, waiting for me to grasp it. The well-heeled Dark Side seduced me and I didn't even put up a fight.

I feel like a bit of a sell-out, but I did purchase that rod. But not before I asked two of the finest cane rod builders in the country to inspect and cast it. I didn't tell them what Pennington was asking for the rod. I wanted their unbiased opinions and believe me, I know these guys well enough that they'd steer me clear of any rod that didn't pass muster, even one of their own if it didn't meet quality specs. Both of them gave the Pennington their enthusiastic seal of approval.

Maybe my long-held beliefs regarding fine bamboo fly rods stemmed from the fact that I could never afford to own one in the first place. I'm not so dense that I can't recognize a good Aesop fable unfold, particularly when it's me playing the central character. Maybe I was that hungry fox all along, unable to reach those luscious grapes because the vine always hung a bit higher than I could reach. Well, last weekend Steve Pennington politely smiled down upon me as he bent that grapevine very low to the ground. I plucked those grapes and - lo and behold - they weren't sour in the least. That custom-made Pennington is one sweet bamboo fly rod indeed. You see, unlike Aesop's fox, I was smart enough to never say I wouldn't eat the grapes if they were served to me on a silver platter. Yes, yes ... quite right, quite right.

Dan Brown's weekly outdoor column is brought to you by Frankie's Bait and Marine, in Chisago City, and St. Croix Outdoors, in St. Croix Falls, Wis.

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