Yes, I love to tie flies. I remember when I got hooked, too. I was in the seventh grade and going on a hike-in camping/fishing trip with my friend John. His big brother was a fly tyer. He gave us one of those big plastic boxes loaded with his creations. Big ones. Little ones. I drooled. I studied them.
Today, I don’t remember what they were. Probably the Royal Coachman, Blue Uprights, Tied down Caddis, Mosquitoes, and Adams. I do remember some little tiny things. Must have been #18s or #20s.
The box held magic. The box represented anticipation of fishing trips and fish to be caught. The fuel of dreams. A fly box still holds that magic for me today, over four decades later. Shortly after that fishing trip (to Round Lake near Mt. Hood, I had my Herter’s Catalog out and was beginning an adventure that continues today.
I also remember that John’s brother had cancer, Leukemia, I think. People didn’t talk much about cancer in those days. I don’t know what happened to the young man who created those beautiful, inspirational flies. I don’t know what John ended up doing with his life either, except I think he was the Quarterback for the Lincoln High School Football team while I ran the high hurdles across the him at Wilson.
Anyway, that was the start of it all. And now I have an outlet to drone on about fly tying, my favorite flies, materials and on and on. Yum.