It's the tying that binds us.

First of all, I'd like to apologize for the brief hiatus that I've taken from writing. Suffice it to say that my home now has one more remodeled room and a much happier wife living in it.

I've been at this whole fly fishing thing for quite a while now and more often than not I find myself instructing others as they begin their respective fishing careers. I don't mind the roll of instructor as long as I get some time to fish myself. Perhaps my children are responsible for teaching me to enjoy the success of others as much as my own. However, every time I stand back defending myself against the often unruly casting of the beginning fly fisher, it occurs to me that one element of success is not mutually shared between the student and the teacher.

The reward of successful creation.

I started tying flies shortly after I began fishing and much of that I credit to an experience I had as a young man. Years before I actually began fishing of my own accord, a 27 year old fellow named Tom took me and a friend up to a local river to show us the world of fly fishing. I was probably 13 or 14 at the time and though I caught several fish, it was how I caught them that mattered. Tom brought us over to his house and made us tie a few of what I now know to be sow bugs. I was overwhelmed by the array of tiny instruments and delicate craftsmanship required to tie a very simple fly. I was thoroughly impressed by the speed in which Tom created these tiny flies and though it took 10 years before I would acquire in earnest, any measurable degree of skill, it taught me that in Toms world, tying was an inseparable part of fly fishing.

Like so many other things in life, this puritan concept waned as I entered my mid twenties, and for a spell, was replaced by instantly gratifying, (though much more expensive) trips to the fly shop. This degradation of principles was accompanied by silly phrases like "there are flies you tie and flies you buy". While true to some extent, this concept can be exploited far beyond its original intent until your buy-to-tie ratio is way out of wack. For some, this ratio really doesn't matter and I have no intent to wage an argument in that arena, other than to say that I'm right and you're wrong. [insert sarcasm here] Seriously. I doubt I alone will place an army of fly tiers out of a job merely because I think its better to catch a fish on a fly I tied, but guess what, I do. Just like grilling your own burger, changing your own oil, and chopping your own wood, a man could let someone else do those things but the word "man" may mean a little less when he's done.

If it was merely a matter of gratification, my argument would hold little water. My good friend SM makes a good living and I imagine his paycheck is about as gratifying as my fly box, we both get the same feeling when they're opened up. It's the notion that tying your flies is an integral part of the process of catching a fish which is ultimately debatable. I cling to this notion simply because without it, I'd eventually find myself devouring a Five Guys burger sitting on a $10.00 bundle of firewood I bought at a gas station while Jiffy Lube wraps up their 100 point mega muffler inspection on my Mazda Miata. Not until they tell me that I have a crack in my split shaft carbon s-groove do I actually get under the car to see for myself. Simply put, you live a life dependent upon someone else's opinion, experience & expertise and that's is the decision that must be made. (for the record, I do not own a Mazda Miata. If I did, this discussion would be secondary to a much larger problem!) I for one choose to tie, whenever I can and wherever I can. I've not graduated to the class of streamside tier just yet but I do what I can. For those of you who have never wound a hook, take a rainy day this spring and give it a whirl. You'll be surprised at how many fish will accept your first attempts regardless of their imperfections, truly a life lesson for all of us.

Today is Sunday and Sunday is my tying day. I wish all of you a good spring, tiers and non-tiers alike. Until next time.