Fly Fishing Bavaria: Part II of V – The Shop

“Servus!” A voice rings from a back room as I make my way through an open door on the side of an all-white building. A man appears dressed in an Orvis button up shirt and round spectacles. His name is Jean-Pierre and this is our first time meeting after months of email correspondences. “So you have arrived in Oberammergau, huh?”

I walk him through our week’s itinerary; when I plan to obtain the licenses, logistics on taking the train, etc. The Ammer day pass (tageskarte) is controlled by a man in town and I will need to meet him at his house. “Oh yes, that is my friend Pauli and he’s been away fishing in Norway. Let me call him and see if he’s back.” Almost as if the man was on his speed dial, he clears the path for me over the shop’s landline. After a quick German phone call, of which I understood only fragments, Jean-Pierre gives a report. “Okay. You’re in luck. He’s returned from Norway yesterday and is expecting you to stop by anytime.”

Take a second and forget everything that comes to mind when you think of a fly shop – a tight room packed to the brim with expensive equipment, the walls full of a zoos worth of tying materials, the bearded trout bum most likely standing behind the counter, everything. This is the ‘Fliegenfischerschule Oberbayern und Fly Shop’ and it is one of its kind in Bavaria. The best way to describe Jean-Pierre’s shop would be a fishing den. An esoteric gathering space with an aesthetic that would put any fly fisherman at ease.

Walking through the door you see a rack full of Simms waders and boots that appear to have just been hung after a day out. Indeed, they probably have. The shop serves as a means to supply the fishing/casting courses as well as the guided trips. Old wicker creels and German fly fishing magazines sit on top of stacks of firewood. It’s homey and inviting with a well thought out vision. Situated on a tying desk in the middle of the main room is a flat screen displaying footage shot by the owner.

He grabs the remote and toggles to a menu, with clips organized by stream. He selects the Ammer. “Now Sam, these are clips of the exact stretch you will be fishing, huh?” Guide mode comes out. We start talking strategy. He describes the long glassy pools where 12 foot micro thin leaders are a necessity as the film focuses on a trophy brown finning in the current. The conversation shifts to fly selection. Before coming I had inquired of what patterns I should tie for my box. “Show me your box.” I produce it and he scans the foam rows, largely filled with ants and other terrestrial patterns, thoroughly. “I see that you’ve listened to my advice. But you still need a CDC baetis, huh?.” He takes me to a back room that begins to resemble an American fly shop; large stocked fly bins with line, leaders and reels lining the wooden walls.

He plucks a single dry fly from one of the compartments and lays it in his hand. “These are special flies, some of the best in the world. They are tied by a man in Switzerland named Marc Petitjean. I’ve fish CDC flies from tiers all over the world. They’re nothing compared to these.” I examine the flies, ingenious in their construction. The body of the mayfly appears to be dubbed with CDC somehow and the proportions are perfect. I purchase some in different sizes and colors to complete my fly box.

What became apparent from spending time in the shop and my conversations with Jean-Pierre is the complete embodiment of the philosophy that fly fishing is first and foremost an art form. It’s about the appreciation of craftsmanship; an understanding of why quality matters. It’s about maintaining a level of childlike curiosity and the mindset of a student; offering your expertise but never pretending that you have all of the answers. And that the fish itself is not the end, but a means to immerse yourself in all of these things.

He offers one last piece of sage wisdom before I leave the shop.

“It would be a shame to fish the Ammer with anything less than a dry fly. It’s too beautiful of a river for anything less.”

(Check out this mini-documentary for more on Jean-Pierre’s philosophies and fly fishing in Bavaria)