Flies, flies, flies: first inspiration

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.


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