The Drift: The Staff of Moses

I’ve always wanted to own an 8’6″ 4-weight Winston BIIt. It’s the rod nicknamed the “Staff of Moses,” heralded as the best 4-weight from a company known for producing some of the best dry fly rods ever built.

I heard about the Staff from a fly shop employee, who worked at the shop were I bought my first Winston. He told me it was a shame Winston didn’t make the BIIt anymore, and I asked why. He got a bit misty-eyed, looked into the distance, and recited some poetry about the rod’s uncanny combination of grace, power, delicacy, and action.

Or, as close to poetry as most 20-something fly shop employees can come to, at any rate. I’m probably looking at the memory through rose-colored glasses.

Regardless, it was enough to pique my interest, and I did some searching around on the internet about this Staff of Moses. My brand-new 9′ 5-weight BIIIx sat next to my desk, feeling less and less like the rod I should’ve spent money on, even though my initial research turned up no Staffs for sale.

At the time, I promised myself if I ever found one for sale, I’d buy it immediately. No questions asked. A silly promise to make, but I loved what I heard and read about the rod, and I wanted one for myself.

That desire only grew the more I fly fished, the more I learned about Winston rods, and the more I added to my collection. Thanks to a great friend, I fell down the rabbit hole of collecting the company’s earliest graphite rods. The pre-IM6 Fisher-rolled rods became the subject of my desire, and I quickly found and bought a 8’6″ 4-weight, 9′ 7-weight, 8’6″ 6-weight, 8′ 5-weight, and a few others that I’ve since sold.

Through all my perusal of online auction sites, calling fly shops across the country to check on their used inventories, and even asking Winston if they’d custom-build me one (they said no), I never found a Staff for sale. I managed to find a mint-condition 9′ 7-weight pre-IM6 rolled on Fisher blanks, and an 8’6″ 4-weight pre-IM6 that was built so early on in the company’s move to Montana, it didn’t even have a serial number. That rod is rarer, and from a historical standpoint likely more valuable, than the B2t.

But it’s not the Staff of Moses.

The first Staff I ever saw for sale was a few years ago, on Facebook Marketplace. The listing only had two pictures, but one clearly showed the rod’s inscription.

Boron IIt
8 1/2′ ~ 4

The rod was listed for an obscenely low price, so I messaged the seller asking if I could buy it on the spot. When he didn’t respond, I offered $200 over asking price for the rod.

He never messaged me back, and the listing disappeared a day later.

A year or so after that listing on Facebook, I was in Twin Bridges for work, and stopped by the Winston factory to chat with a few friends. One of the folks there had a Staff in his office and offered to let me cast it alongside a prototype of what would become the 7’9″ 4-weight Pure 2.

The Pure 2 was a bit lighter, a bit crisper, but my first cast with the Staff was everything I’d hoped for. Light, accurate, lively, soft, powerful—every adjective you could think of to describe the perfect 4-weight. Giving the rod back at the end of our casting session was one of the harder things I’ve had to do.

Casting the Staff only made me want one even more. But they just never show up for sale, which is a sign of their enduring popularity. Winston didn’t make too many of them, either, so there aren’t a lot to make their way to the used market.

Then, just yesterday, while doing some research for a story about collectible fly rods, I saw a listing for an “8 1/2inch BoronIIt” on eBay. I didn’t believe the listing at first, but the pictures confirmed what I hoped for.

An 8’6″ 4-weight BIIt. In unused, mint condition. Priced at $597.

I clicked “Buy It Now” faster than I ever have in my life, and that’s when I got the bad news.

The rod would ship from Japan. Between shipping and tariffs, the price bumped up to $830. A quick glance at my checking account showed I had the money, but I’d literally just bought a new-to-us car for the family, and we had money set aside for new furniture that my wife has patiently waited for.

Buying the Staff would mean making my wife wait even longer than she already has for a sorely-needed kitchen table, and an upgraded art desk. It’d also mean skipping a few date nights, and tightening the belt for a while until the next few paychecks rolled in.

I’ve been sitting on it for a day now, and I’m still not sure what to do. I want to keep that silly promise I made to myself over a decade ago, long before I was married or had a kid. I want the Staff to round out my Winston collection. I want the Staff because it’s the best-casting rod I think I’ve ever thrown.

Why do such great opportunities tend to come at inopportune times?