I tied my first fly on my father's bench vise in the basement of our home when I was about 12 years old. I remember that it's body was a bright red wool yarn, and it had grizzly hackle. I can still remember the rise of the trout that I caught the first time I fished with it.

I later tied a few more colorful, gaudy, flies like that one, using an assortment of wool yarn that I got from my grandmother. I don't remember ever fishing with them, but I thought so highly of them that I gave them all to a girlfriend that I had when I was 14.

It wasn't long after that I lost both the flies and the girl.