Excalibur Meets Its Maker
I waited until the holiday rush was officially over to ship off my Sage fly rod today. The rush is over isn’t it? Anyway, the form is an easy .pdf download from Sage’s site, and the only thing I saw that could trip a fellow is the fact they want the pieces of breakage, and the entire fly rod when it comes to rod repairs. If you haven’t read the story of how my rod arrived at this pitiful juncture, please feel free to read “I Stepped on a Rock and it Rolled.”
Of course I couldn’t resist enclosing a letter with my Sage XI2 seven weight when I dropped it off at the nearby Pack-and-Mail. It does make me nervous just dropping something like that off, and I guess the letter will serve to entertain the “lucky” Sage employee on the other end. It did help to put the rod in proper perspective as you will read.
THE LETTER READS –
To: Sage Rod Repair
re. Sage XI2 7904
Dear Repairs,
It is with extreme sadness that I return my newly purchased, barely used Sage XI2 rod to your repair department. You see, I already consider it my daily driver, and drive it does! This is my favorite rod, and does everything I want it to do in warm water.
Unfortunately, I was scatting along some riprap rocks recently and took a nasty spill. At first I was extremely upset about the rod, but then I realized I should be glad to escape with as little injury as occurred. Still, my heart aches for my once tall and beautiful Sage Fly Rod.
When you hold it in your hands, see if you don’t feel the power of “Excalibur” coursing through its cork grips. There’s something there, perhaps faint, but I do feel it. Although rocks were involved in its breakage, rest assured I did not try to stab a boulder to see if the tip would somehow penetrate and hold the rod for the next young fly fishing knight to come along and try to pull from the rock. Alas, it was only a simple slip that lead it into your trusted hands.
Now, as you inspect this superior technological wonder, you should know that before it stopped at the end of a long fall, it was pristine – spotless. You will now observe it to have deep wounds on the butt section and what I fear to be a contagious rash on the cork handle. The breaking of the tip is painfully obvious.
I must assume you test a rod before returning it to it’s humble owner; for fractures perhaps unseen, but also just as deadly. If not, I would implore you to do so, as the fall was so consequential that I fear for hidden fissures or fractures.
Once my sharpest rod rejoins the quiver, you can expect it to make short work of common carp, largemouth bass, stripers, sand bass, gar, redfish, speckled trout, ladyfish, palmetto bass and even flounder.
Please, for all that is the love of fly fishing, return my rod to me at your earliest convenience. I feel luckless without it, and outmatched by the aforementioned fish in every way. The puppies of our winter will soon grow to the dogs of summer, and I need my rod to do battle with the greatest of fish, and wash away the tragedy of its absence.
Sincerely,
And so it goes on this fine day in January’s cool grip, that a superior fly rod begins another journey, home, and back home again. My luck has been so dastardly that I am tempted to hang this rod on the wall when it comes home so that I may admire it through the cold months and save its magic for springtime harvesting.
Perhaps you are battling your own weather – feeling under the weather, as you read this. There aren’t too many healthy people in my sphere right now. Vicious colds have gripped the household, and spread throughout the area without contact. Dallas-Fort Worth is under a “Flu Advisory” and apparently the weather is turning bitter Saturday.
In the interest of the ever growing geographic regions reading Texas Fly Caster, I have begun to move the weather information (located in the right hand column) around the State of Texas. We are now looking at South Padre Island – read it and weep.
Category: Culture on the Skids, Industry, TECHNICAL, Writing
http://dallas.craigslist.org/ftw/spo/2147787950.html
I bought my rod from this person. Trust him.