A Melting Pot Are We

Recently, at a couple of our meetings, I noticed a young whippersnapper entering the meeting late and sneaking quietly into the back of the room with a backpack. He unpacked his tying vise and materials, set up camp, and proceeded to tie flies on how own. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He even continued to tie when the lights went out. He was tying flies by feel…he could have been a blind man the way he was spinning…I was inspired. I knew I was watching something very special. I don’t know his age (I might guess 14 or 15) and I don’t even know his name. But, I can see his heart…and he has lots of it. In a way, I am envious of his passion, but more importantly, I am moved by it. Thank you, young man.

And so, this event got me randomly thinking (which I happen to be rather proficient at…now they call it ADD or something like that, but back in my day, they just called it “squirrelly”) about the joy of fly tying. One of the unique aspects of our sport from other sports and activities, is the fact that we can be engaged in the “building” of the stuff that we use for our activity. There are a few other sports where people build the things they use (bow and arrows, an occasional lathed baseball bat, etc…but far and few between) but fly fishing has significantly more folks involved in the building of rods and the tying of flies. We become part of what we are doing. Not all fly fishermen tie their own flies and even less build their own rods (not to mention the narrow universe of bamboo rod builders) but overall, it is a fair amount.

Tying your own flies and catching a fish on a fly you tied is a very profound experience – at least it is for me. The first time I did such, I actually had a tear in my eye (but don’t tell anyone lest they think I am a sissy). I think this is a big deal. It drives commitment for the fly fisher person and gives you a personal investment in the sport. When you commit to fly tying, you are truly investing in yourself and it can be a life changing thing. There was a day, many moons ago, when you could not buy a commercially tied fly. You had to tie your own. Not only that, but you had to find the stuff that you were going to tie with. You used whatever in the heck you could get your hands on. The craft has been handed down, like a baton, from generation to generation and the exchange of ideas never ceases. Tying is a complete world unto itself within the sport of fly fishing. It creates a connection between people that transcends so many other things. That, my friends, is a good thing.

To the outsiders looking in, we probably look a little strange, sitting there in our hunch, spinning materials. And, let’s face it, the guys that wear the x-ray vision bi-focal magnifier helmets to tie size 42 midges look a little odd to someone not in the know. However, in the fly tying world they are the coolest of cool and us fly tiers actually look on them with jealousy and lust. It is a fly tier thing, you wouldn’t understand. If you tie, you get it…but if you don’t, admittedly we look weird. But the fire burns within. It is a little bit of art, a little bit of science, and for me, it beats sitting on the psychiatric couch. It really is therapy for me.

Like everything else, we fly tiers are a mixed bag of differences. This eclectic group has purists, progressives, radicals, traditionalists, dabblers, and die-hards, and a little bit of everything else. But, show up to a tying event, and you will see a group of friends with something in common having a damn good time. You might think about joining in if you haven’t yet. My mama knew what she was doing when she named me. Now, I just have to work hard to earn the name.

You think about that. TL