THERE’S a natural progression for the fly fisher, despite all the initial protestations that of “not having enough patience, clumsy fingers et al”. Sooner or later, and for better or worse, one will end up behind a vise, thread bobbin and scissors at the ready. For many catching fish on flies they designed and tied is the ultimate.
When the raw and impressionable Gabriel Levin fell into the clutches of the misbegotten and semi-functional family who staff this place, there was a pretty good chance he was going to be lashed down to a vise. Indeed despite the peer pressure he has taken to tying like a my black lab on a pound of bacon and like everything else proving a remarkably quick study.
Still I was impressed at the fly he handed me, when I climbed into his brother Ben’s river boat last week, for a quick dash on the river _ a neat little black hopper, a tweak on the sought after Morrish Hopper. Generously Ben put me in the downhill seat and it didn’t take long to claim a 20” brown out in front of Gabe _ on his fly (pictured above).
The young fella was practically jumping up and down I’d hooked one on his fly. We changed up and Ben grabbed the 9’6” 6wt Sage One I was using for a test, and of course Gabe’s fly stayed on the tippet. Until the inevitable happened, with a nice eat just above Wildcat. Ben’s usually a smooth beggar in everything he does, but on this fish, for some reason unknown to us all, set from his toes on the eat, and line leader and all came firing back at the boat. Everything but Gabe’s fly, the one he’d barely fished himself.
Ben and I ended up with the giggles at the plaintive noises coming from the back of the boat. He was the only one who hadn’t touched a fish in our brief jaunt, while we were using & losing his precious new pattern.
So here is the lesson _ “Never tie just one”