Post by Petey on Jul 1, 2008 16:02:50 GMT -5
When I first started fly fishing buying flies were a necessity. But the idea of giving a dollar fifty to two dollars for a fly started working on my nerves, especially as I began to lose them. Sometimes I lost them in larger numbers than I had hoped. It was really the case back during what I consider the golden years for me on the Clinch. Losing size 18 midge pupa's to big fat rainbows every weekend, then going out and buying more the next week was beginning to add up. It really started to get expensive. I told myself I can tie these cheaper than they cost at the fly shop, and you can as a matter of fact. It is just that the initial start up fee was a little steeper than I had hoped.
I told myself I was just going to buy what I needed to tie and catch the fish I was after. It started out that way too. A simple vice, a couple of spools of thread, some wire, black nylon ribbing, a bag of pheasant tail, a bag of peacock hurl, a few bags of bead and hook and a couple of tools that I was told were necessary. It is amazing what becomes necessary or needed over the years.
I found myself the other night in front of my vice getting ready for a day on the Hiwassee. Bags of different colored feathers and furs were starting to stack up and get in the way. A little order in the middle of my chaotic tying world was needed. So I thought I would tidy it up a little. It didn’t take long to realize I was trying to stuff material into desk drawers that I thought would never be too small. I stepped back to survey the landscape, and a simple thought came to mind. "Where did all this crap come from?" "Do I really need all this material?" I decided it was time to clean out my drawers and get rid of that material that I will never use or hadn't used.
As I sifted through the materials, each one of them was in there for a reason. I could recall each fly that was tied, why I tied it and for where. There was straw backing for Scuds and Sowbugs in the Ozarks, black beads and nylon ribbing for the Pupas on the Clinch. All sorts of different elk hair and deer hair for those Caddis I love to tie for small streams. Also in the mix were the last remains of the first bag of peacock hurl I ever purchased to tie nymphs for the Hiwassee. As I kept digging the memories kept flowing, I realized then that all of this material was needed. Even the stuff I hadn’t used yet, because one day they would be needed to recall old memories of a fishing glory past.
The drawers that were too full remained so. An assorted color of feathers, dubbing, and hair were still trying to break out of the constraints that bound them. Nothing but a hand full of scraps found there way to the garbage can. As I sat there with my head a little cocked to the side, arms crossed and foot tapping the floor my wife asked “What is up honey?”
“I need more drawers.”
I told myself I was just going to buy what I needed to tie and catch the fish I was after. It started out that way too. A simple vice, a couple of spools of thread, some wire, black nylon ribbing, a bag of pheasant tail, a bag of peacock hurl, a few bags of bead and hook and a couple of tools that I was told were necessary. It is amazing what becomes necessary or needed over the years.
I found myself the other night in front of my vice getting ready for a day on the Hiwassee. Bags of different colored feathers and furs were starting to stack up and get in the way. A little order in the middle of my chaotic tying world was needed. So I thought I would tidy it up a little. It didn’t take long to realize I was trying to stuff material into desk drawers that I thought would never be too small. I stepped back to survey the landscape, and a simple thought came to mind. "Where did all this crap come from?" "Do I really need all this material?" I decided it was time to clean out my drawers and get rid of that material that I will never use or hadn't used.
As I sifted through the materials, each one of them was in there for a reason. I could recall each fly that was tied, why I tied it and for where. There was straw backing for Scuds and Sowbugs in the Ozarks, black beads and nylon ribbing for the Pupas on the Clinch. All sorts of different elk hair and deer hair for those Caddis I love to tie for small streams. Also in the mix were the last remains of the first bag of peacock hurl I ever purchased to tie nymphs for the Hiwassee. As I kept digging the memories kept flowing, I realized then that all of this material was needed. Even the stuff I hadn’t used yet, because one day they would be needed to recall old memories of a fishing glory past.
The drawers that were too full remained so. An assorted color of feathers, dubbing, and hair were still trying to break out of the constraints that bound them. Nothing but a hand full of scraps found there way to the garbage can. As I sat there with my head a little cocked to the side, arms crossed and foot tapping the floor my wife asked “What is up honey?”
“I need more drawers.”
