The place smelled exactly like it was supposed to. Donuts. Coffee. The faint lingering and imbedded odor of cigarettes.
The old guys invited us right in. Check it out, look around. Take pictures.
Three other gents were dropping bombs with long bellies. An instructor was teaching a middle aged man the very beginning steps in casting a fly line.
The stories the clubhouse could tell. Shadow boxes of flies from the legends of fly tying. How many discoveries in the fly fishing industry came from conversations started in these walls. Shooting heads, graphite, boron and the list goes on.
I was in full geek out mode, and I couldnt even help myself. I had to do it.
The Golden Gate Casting Club is a pretty special place. Check it out when you find yourself in the city by the bay.
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