Renewed by Saturday morning coffee, I head for the foothills . . . ostensibly on a mission to gather ramp leaves for tomorrow’s guided foray and tasting event. I am traveling lightly, with just scissors, an empty bag, and water bottle in the front pocket of my knapsack. But a closer examination of the contents of my pack reveals ulterior motives. Tucked into the rear compartment, just in case the opportunity presents itself, is my telescoping tenkara fly rod, merely eighteen inches when collapsed.