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When I finally started fly-fishing after years of
procrastination, I bought a Scientific Angler starter
kit from Wal-Mart. The rod (an 8'6" 5/6#), reel, level
line, leader, tippet, and an assortment of dry flies
came with it. I'd read everything I could on casting
and after a few trips to the water I was getting my
line out pretty well. I caught little or nothing at
all, and I knew it had to be the flies. After seeing
the price our local sporting goods store wanted for
them, I decided to learn to tie my own flies. I went
on the lookout for an affordable fly-tying kit and the
hunt lasted nearly two months.
I'm something of a cheapskate by nature and not usually
given to spending extra money where I shouldn't. I could
have bought one of the beginner kits from the local sporting
goods, but I couldn't see forking over 50 bucks for something
that might not work out. One day, I happened to stop into
a local 5 & 10-cent store during their closeout sale and
found a small tying kit in their craft tool section for
$16.00 ($14 after close-out discount). The kit included a
small vise, bodkin, scissors, a Thompson style whip-finisher,
and hackle pliers (no bobbin or materials).
I had done a little reading about fly tying while looking
for a tying kit so it wouldn't be a total mystery. However,
I still had a very vague idea of what a good hackle was and
what one looked like when compared to a regular feather. I
grabbed a couple bags of the hackle type feathers one would
use for decorating masks or making hatbands and thought they
might serve to make or break my tying desire. In my research
I learned the value of pheasant tail feathers to the tier,
and peacock herl, so I got a goodly supply of them (because
they were cheap enough.)
Dubbing was still a bit of a mystery too, I saw some
references to animal fur as dubbing- rabbit, squirrel,
etc.- but as cheap as I am I couldn't part with the cash
it takes to buy a rabbit pelt or any other, even at a
closeout sale. They had the cheaper faux fur, but even
I was smart enough to know it wouldn't work well. The
only squirrel skins I could find in this part of the
city were living in the trees behind the neighbor's house.
As dubbing goes, I did have an advantage over most beginners
(and cheapskates.) My mother fell in love with the spinning
wheel and with the same drive that causes a fly fisherman
to take up fly tying; she took up sheep farming to support
her spinning needs. Mom raises some Lancaster breed sheep
for ordinary, white wool and she raises Shetland sheep,
which are an ancient English breed. The wool from these
sheep is amazingly fine and soft. It's a fact that a
knitted, Shetland wool shawl can be pulled through a
woman's wedding band (we tried it.) She also adopted
some Jacob sheep from the local zoo, petting pen animals
that grew too large. The name Jacob comes from the biblical
character and these sheep are said to descend from his flock.
The interesting characteristic of these animals is the multiple
horns; many times 4-6 horns on a single ram. She also took
to shearing and dying the wool, too.
I gathered a supply of wool in natural and dyed colors
from my mom and figured I had enough dubbing to decide
whether things would work out. I also obtained a couple
of books from our local library, which gave very detailed
instructions on a broad range of fly patterns. I can't
recall the name of the first book, but it showed each
step of the tying sequence in photographs and laid the
recipe along side each step. The other book was entitled,
"Trout Flies." I was enthralled with all the patterns shown
in this book. I could only wonder how many fish one could
catch on some of the patterns there, some didn't even look
like any bugs I'd ever seen. Besides, I'd never been around
trout in my life.
I quickly found an easy pattern to try. I'd seen references
to the Pheasant Tail Nymph all over the Internet as a basic
beginners fly and I believe the first book even started with
that one. My problems began when I tried to tie the fly using
a spool of polyester sewing thread from a cheap, travel-style
sewing kit. Remember, my tying kit didn't come with a bobbin.
I didn't even know what a bobbin was at this point, most of
the references I found didn't explain the tool well enough
for me to realize my need for one or what purpose it served,
exactly. After dropping the spool a dozen times and rewinding
the several feet of thread that trailed across the floor, I
began to think a smart guy could invent some kind of device
to hold the spool better.
I was able to get the fly tied to the point of whip finishing.
The whip finish tool I had became another problem; there were
no instructions included for using it, and none were given in
any of the books I'd read. The tying book did mention the use
of the half-hitch tool, which, as if to bolster my cheapskate
pride, I found built into the butt-end of my bodkin. I
remembered reading somewhere that one could use 2-3 half-hitches
to finish a fly, so that's what I did. I hadn't remembered to
get glue to finish the fly, or maybe I didn't find it necessary
to spend the money yet, so I called the fly finished at that
point. (I never thought about nail polish.)
My wife complimented the fly and the kids ooh-ed and aah-ed
over it because it really looked like a bug. It did turn out
pretty good for my first fly and I thought this tying idea
might work after all. From there I tied from my minds eye,
things that were supposed to resemble the bugs I knew well.
I only ever tied one of any pattern and still never tie more
than three flies at any one sitting. I found a pattern on the
Internet for a drowned mayfly that utilized brown monofilament
for the legs and pheasant tail for the body and wing. It turned
out to look exactly like the real thing but it still never
caught a fish. I only tied the one and that was more for myself
than the fish, anyway. It really is a cool fly!
It was last winter, during all this, when I found Fly Anglers
Online. I was looking for more patterns and instructions. I
knew I'd hit the jackpot! I found the fly archives and I
read through Al Campbell's articles for beginners, following
his instructions with the modest materials I had available.
I would browse through the archives looking at every single
pattern absolutely hypnotized by them. I was definitely hooked.
There was no turning back now and after finding the instructions
for my whip finish tool (which I still never use) and finding
great information about the elusive bobbin, it was time to do
some serious shopping. I figured I was ready to fork out some
real cash for this deal, maybe as much as thirty bucks!
I heard from a friend there was a fly shop nearby. They've
been there over 14 years, but I never knew it, neither did
the other guy that walked in after me, and we've both lived
in this area our entire lives. I bought a Griffith Peewee,
ceramic bobbin from the shop for $14 and ordered a better
vise from the Hook & Hackle Company for $21, after reading
about them on FAOL. I also bought some tying thread from
the local fly shop for a buck and a half. I was over budget
at this point, so this fly tying thing was really going to
have to work.
If I didn't catch any fish on my own flies how would I ever
recoup my expenses? Maybe I could sell the stuff to my friend
who also spoke of fly tying. To add fuel to the fire, I
eventually gave in and bought some real hackle. When I
discovered the woolly worm pattern, I bought some furnace
hackle and palmered it over blue wool on a size 8, gold,
Eagle Claw hook. I used black thread, which pathetically
ribbed the body. This was my own selection of materials
and it was only a "training" fly, after all. I wanted to
be sure I could palmer hackle with my hackle pliers. I
still only tied one of them. When I eagerly went out to
fish with my own flies, a grand total of 3, it was late
April. I started with the Pheasant Tail Nymph and didn't
get anything because it never sank then switched to the
mayfly for a couple of casts even though it was too early
in the year for them. Then I switched to the woolly worm
and I had never caught so many green sunfish in my life.
I believe my numbers that day would be over 20, all caught
and released in a few hours on a single, cheap, clumsy fly.
My investment was justified! I think the fly was hung in a
tree the next time out forcing me to tie another one.
Some guys get it in their heads to turn fly tying into a
job to make a little cash, but I never did. I have had many
varied interests in the past- banjo and guitar playing,
poetry and song writing, watercolor painting, woodcarving,
stone and clay sculpture, web design, computer graphics - maybe
others but I don't recall them. All of these hobbies were
self-taught for money's sake, except for watercolor painting,
which I did in a high school art class. In my mind I may have
thought I could turn some of those into moneymakers. In all
honesty, I have two real faults working against me. First,
as I stated before, I'm a cheapskate. And second, I lack the
required devotion to serious, hard work. So, the thought of
"making a go" of them was only ever in my mind. I knew there
was no real money in tying flies after looking through the
ones at the local fly shop. There were so many patterns and
so many of each one; I could never buy that much material or
work that hard. No, tying flies for cash is most definitely
for the rich and motivated.
Well, there it is, that's how I started out. All this
transpired over the shortness of the past year. My
starter rod and reel has been replaced by a sweet, 7'6",
Garcia, graphite, 4/5# rod and a Berkley reel given to me
by my aunt who doesn't fish anymore. Her third husband was
an avid fly fisher and they could travel on his income.
When they divorced her rod went in the closet and sat
unused for nearly 20 years. The reel still had the old,
level-floating line and hand tied leader on it. The rod
is slow action, easy to cast and accurate, and has landed
me at least one of every fish I have fished for; trout at
Roaring River in June, green sunfish, bluegill, assorted
types and sizes of bass, and one crappie.
I've avoided the expense of casting lessons and fly tying
lessons, which may trouble some folks. But, I have done my
research and I give due respect to advice I pick up on FAOL
and certain casting videos from the library. My fly tying
space consists of a small filing cabinet in the corner of
my room, an aluminum box I made to carry the tools to the
lake, and a plastic, accordion-style, file folder for my
materials - cheap and compact. I still only tie one or two
flies at a time, except the one time I joined a fly swap and
tied eight of my blue and red woolly worms for bluegills.
I think I have a pretty good grasp on my fly-fishing
addiction and I look forward to many years enjoying
it. I just hope it never gets really expensive or
requires serious, hard work. I'd hate to think I'd
wasted all that money. ~ Tim Lunceford (MOturkE)
About Tim Lunceford:
Tim spent 9 years in the U.S. Air Force, with 3 years
working on the F-117 A Stealth Fighter, and is a veteran
of Desert Storm. He lives and fishes near Kansas City,
Missouri. He's a recovering bait fisherman having taken
up fly-fishing last summer and fly tying shortly thereafter.
He's been married 22 years and is the father of 4 kids - 3
have Fragile-X syndrome, a genetic disorder that causes
retardation and autism. He now works as a Heat and Frost
Insulator for Local Union #27 in K.C. Tim also enjoys web
design, graphics and digital image manipulation, watercolor
painting, playing guitar, and writes contemporary Christian
songs - none of which have been recorded...yet.
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