I’ll buy you a nice fly rod my friend if it makes you feel alright
I’ll get you graphite or ‘boo my friend if it makes your loops so tight
‘Cause I don’t care too much for money
But money can’t buy me love

Paul McCartney and John Lennon sang those lines in their 1964 hit song “Can’t Buy Me Love.”  Well, I think that was pretty much how Paul wrote it anyway.   The Beatles were masters of simple lyrics and timeless melodies.  But I’d wager they were not fly anglers.  I know because I rang in the new year by casting a fly rod that refuted the premise of that song.

The picture above notwithstanding, the Fab Four, like anyone, could have a good time catching some fish on a stout spinning rod dropping bait out of a hotel window.  Fishing is just plain fun no matter which side of the pond you’re from.  But for fly anglers, finding a fly rod to match your casting stroke is akin to finding a whiskey to match your palate.  If you are like me, it’s a lifelong pursuit to match  changing standards as our fishing preferences and skills change over time.

I love my older bamboo and graphite Sage rods.  Their moderate actions provide more feel and touch than the faster casting graphite rods advertising and manufacturing have trended towards.  I am fortunate to own bamboo fly rods we have nicknamed “The Magic Wand” (made by Homer Jennings) and the “auto-caster” Bellinger rod.  Most newer graphite rods cast farther, cast faster, and sacrifice a great deal of touch, sensitivity, and in my mind, enjoyment.  It’s easy to wring the magic out of something when the dollar is the real focus.

Tom Morgan, who grew up in Ennis, Montana, fishing and guiding the Madison River, purchased the Winston Fly Rod Company in 1973.  Tom was a perfectionist and innovator with a gift for understanding how to make a great fly rod that would serve as the best fishing tool it could be. He grew Winston into a leader in the fly fishing rod industry by introducing new rods made of fiberglass and graphite.

Tom pointed out in this interview that he was in the “enviable position of being able to design and then use exactly what I thought would make the best rod for a particular situation. I was fortunate in my thought process of designing rods to be able to conceive of a design mentally and to know exactly what I wanted it to do and how I wanted it to feel before I began.”  Anglers would be forever grateful for his innovation and influence in the industry.   After leaving Winston in 1991, multiple sclerosis left Tom in a wheelchair.  Amazingly he continued to produce fine rods, as Tom’s wife Gerri became his hands and together they continued to produce custom fly rods until Tom passed away in 2017 at the age of 76.

One of Tom’s lasting contributions is the “Tom Morgan Favorite” graphite fly rod, which he deigned and Winston first sold in 1989 as a limited edition.  Produced in only one format, an 8’0″ four-weight, this rod was not an advertising gimmick, as Tom reported that it was “the rod I used for at least 50% of my trout fishing.”  The “TMF” as it is now referred to, has been made by Winston continually since 1989, and is still available for purchase on their website today.   Think about that for a minute: Is there a model of car, camera, phone, or ski’s made in the 80s that you would seek out to use today?

Like whiskeys or wines, there are certain vintages or periods of production that end up a notch above others. The original TMF was produced with IM6 graphite blanks rolled by the G. Loomis company from 1989-1994, and these both weigh less (2.0 oz. as compared the to current model which weighs in at 2.5 oz.) and are purported to have the smoothest action.  Imagine my excitement when my internet scouring paid off with acquiring a beautiful IM6 Tom Morgan Favorite rod from a seller in Australia right around Christmas time!  True to the rod’s reputation, when we were messaging about shipping and details the seller said, “Mate, this TMF is the single best graphite I’ve ever cast – if not the best of any material. If you haven’t cast one yet you will be amazed.”

Fast forward to New Year’s Day.  I stood on the bank of the Swift River with the new (to me) rod in hand, ready to try to split the cold air with fly line.  This was certain to be a better test than the winter lawn casting I had planned.  I was nervous that a rod that weighed only as much as 12 sheets of printer paper could not possibly be up to the task of taming feisty trout.  I was also committed to fishing dry flies even though it would be more than a long shot to catch a fish that way. After two or three casts I felt like the rod felt more like a toy than a tool.  Then I saw the fish.

Lounging behind a mid river boulder upstream was a lengthy rainbow trout.  I worked out some more line and took a practice cast, but the rod seemed to have it’s own plan and delivered the fly nearly right to the fish.   Did not expect that.  It was as if the rod was automatically placing the fly where I really wanted it to go!  I pulled out some more line and 40′ of line laid out easily and landed above the fish.  Just a bit too far to the left.  I cast again and was shocked how far the line was going, again it landed well above the fish.    I thought this cast was a tad too far to the right, but the fish found the drift agreeable and moved from his lie.  Without hesitating, a big mouth gaped and inhaled the dry fly off of the surface.

For a millisecond, I was nervous and hesitated to set the hook.  It was a long cast, I wasn’t warmed up, and this scene was too perfect for things to actually go so well.  I feared if I botched the hookset I would surely be left with a winter’s worth of disappointment.  Mercifully, my arm was more suited to this situation than my mind, as it dutifully struck the rising fish and the line went tight.  This was a nice fish and he instantly made straight for a logjam.  I had to apply a lot of pressure to stop his run, turning his head just as he reached the logs.  The flexible rod cushioned the thin tippet and everything held fast.  I fought the fish and brought him to the net, admiring the vibrant red sides and cheeks.  Watching the fish swim away I got a good feeling about 2025.

I fished a bit more but the cold was seeping in.  I missed another take on a dry fly and just smiled.  This rod was truly a delight to cast.  Before I left the river, I worked out some more line out of curiosity.  With a smooth motion it quickly all laid out upstream.  Hmm.  I pulled out some more line.  Same.  I have to be at what, 50 feet of line now?  OK, a few more pulls cam off the reel.  All of the line sailed through the air and landed softly in the run well above me.  I shook my head and climbed up the riverbank, my teeth feeling the cold air inside of a wide smile.

Paul McCartney did allow in the 1997 Barry Miles book Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now that the song title I referred to at the top perhaps should have been called “Can Buy Me Love.” Presumably this was due to all of the comforts that his success had afforded him.  I would point out that maybe his change of heart came from discovering fly fishing a little late, as this was shortly after the Tom Morgan Favorite fly rod became available in the early 1990s.

The mark of any rod is what it feels like to you, forgetting the rod shop pitches, the full page magazine ads, and online reviews of what others think of the rod.  I most likely would not have appreciated this rod if I had cast it 20 years ago at the beginning of my fly fishing journey.  I am not of the mind to argue that this is the best rod ever or the best rod for anyone else.  For now, though, all I can say is that I am in love.

I’d be curious to hear what your favorite fly rod is, and more importantly, why is it the best for you?