You never know - on the very next cast

Sometimes you just need to go fishing.

You just need that time alone, time away from what doesn't give you peace. You might catch a trout or two but that doesn't really matter. The trout aren't what you're after. You need for your peace to return and know, when you fish, that you're connecting with something greater than yourself that will restore your peace.

At other times it's about being with those rare people with whom you share a special bond - it's about strengthening the bond and strengthening yourself at the same time. You may not think too much about it, you just know when there's that opportunity to fish again with certain people, you jump on it.

Yeah, you say, let's go fishing.

That's what I said and why I said it to the close friends who invited me this time. The bonds initially formed through a fascination with flies, and appreciation for what we share on trout streams grew into those kinds of friendships where deeper roots connect and intertwine.

We were basking in the afterglow of a wonderful celebratory evening, an anniversary party for a couple whose marriage stands as a beacon for all who know them. We all saw it clearly in Mike and Lenita that evening - this is what 50 years of marriage looks like, and this is why you make and keep that commitment.

I met Mike when he joined a mutual friend and I on a fishing trip several decades ago. More recently, first Jim and later Troy and Rebecca walked into my fly shop and into my life.

We had to celebrate what originally brought us all together. Nothing else would do but to set a couple of days aside to go fishing.

There might have been a slim chance of catching some trout when we started. We always cling to that hope. But the odds were against us - the sunny weather that made the day pleasant was illusory. The sun brought snowmelt. The water was way too chilly, way too cold for a decent hatch after the sudden drop in temperature that left the trout semi-comatose.

There was only scant insect activity that first day. A few gray drake spinners materialized out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly when a chilly breeze swept them off the water, but not before Rebecca got a couple of splashy looks on a Brindle 'Chute.

With the wind we headed back to a wonderful dinner that Rebecca had prepared beforehand. When asked earlier "Are you going to stay here and cook?" she laughed, "No! I'm doing all this now so I can go fishing!"

Mike had special reason to join us briefly on our second day out before returning to the family. Leni had commissioned a C.F. Burkheimer fly rod to be built as her surprise anniversary gift to Mike. And this is no ordinary fly rod: all Burkheimers are a cut above anything turned out by the bigger factories. This one, custom-fitted for Mike, is one-of-a-kind.

With that 8'9" 5 wt. Burkie in hand his stroke was easier, almost effortless, and his loop was tighter, smoother and crisper than ever before.

After a while he returned to family. The fish weren't on but he left with what he came for - an appreciative sense of that fly rod, and time on the stream with friends to commemorate the gift and the occasion.

For all of us there was a unique joy in our moments spent fishing - where simply being there, again, led to where the warmth and humor flowed freely, and occasionally drifted to deeper levels. There were no fish caught, but like Mike, we were not without what we came to the river for. Without those hours on the water, the connections between us would have seemed incomplete.

We fished several places, worked familiar water, tried to choose the right methods and flies, encouraged or kidded each other when we were close at hand, or simply gave each other plenty of time and space to be uplifted in our own solitary moments.

The odds of catching fish may have been against us but it didn't seem like we were on a fool's errand.

Though slim, or even whimsical, there was always the chance for each of us as we carefully worked the seams and foam lines of the timeless currents, that on the very next cast.