It wasn’t until my dad passed that I started reflecting on my life and decided to go rogue and take a turn from my corporate career. While I was sorting his affairs, I found this collection of vintage rods and reels. I never fly fished, but back home, my brother-in-law offered to teach me to cast, and within 20 minutes, I could feel my heart rate slow down. I felt at peace and connected in this profound way.
Soon after, I bought a kit to build my own rod and spent the next week pouring over it. All those hours of building, my work life just disappeared—I was fully present. So I took a month off and built this mini barn in the yard with my dad’s tools as a way of paying homage to him. Then something became clear: I wasn't going back to work. I was going to explore fly fishing, and through this really natural, couldn't-be-repeated process, Maine Fly began—building small-batch rods dedicated to the waterways here in Maine. Then the pandemic hit. Suddenly, fly fishing became popular again, and things just started blowing up.