I was probably 8 or 9 when I first saw someone fly fishing. Mom and Dad and Mick and I had gone to Three Corners north of Hyannis, Nebraska, to see if we could catch a bluegill or bass. When we got there, Uncle Raymond, Mom’s brother, was fishing there with one of the Roses. He was fly fishing, which I thought was so neat. I had to try it.
So I pestered Dad till he helped me put together a split bamboo rod of his and an old fly reel. I can’t remember having a tapered leader with a tippet, so probably just a piece of monofilament. I had a blast beating the water and catching the trees and the grass along the bank. I actually caught some bluegills.
Later on when shopping in Ogallala, while gawking at the guns and fishing stuff at Coast to Coast, I came across a fly-tying kit that promised to help one tie poppers and wooly worms and such. So Dad bought it for me, and I got with the program. I made some cork and Styrofoam poppers and wooly worms using feathers from birds and the chickens. I learned a lot, but never did learn how to fly fish effectively.
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Then fast forward to 1979 when Marge and I and our boys moved to Bartlesville, Oklahoma, to go to college. It was a bigger town with lots of people, but there were hundreds of small ponds scattered all around. It was there that I bought an old fiberglass canoe that had been stolen and wrecked. It came in two pieces, the front half and the back half. So after fiberglassing it back together, we had a way to fly fish the small ponds.
Then one day I was reading the newspaper when I came across a news item about a fly-tying class being put on by Green Country Fly Fishers. I simply had to take the class. So little by little the members of the fly club taught a bunch of us how to tie flies the right way. It was like a light bulb went off in my head. I loved it. We tied simple wooly worms and dry flies and wet ones as well. I learned how to add weight to cause them to sink. At the end of the class, we met at a local pond and were shown how to correctly cast a fly. Then the members of the club took each of us, one-on-one, fly fishing. Man, what a blast! Then we moved to Kentucky, but we did take the canoe with us.
It was in Kentucky that Marge and the boys and I fly fished the ponds around Wilmore as well as the golf course. We drove down to Cumberland Lake and fished below the dam. It was a wonderful experience. It was while we were in Kentucky that I ordered the pieces to build an 8-foot number 7 IMG fly rod. Little by little, I tied on the guides and built the rod. I kept tying flies of all colors and sizes and shapes.
After we moved to Scott City, I did a bunch of fly fishing for bluegill at Twappity and Lake Girardeau. Somewhere I heard there was a store in Cape Girardeau called Chrisman Outfitters that was supposed to have fly-fishing and fly-tying material. They had all kinds of goodies. So every chance I could I’d stop and check out their goodies. I met some really neat fly fisher men and women at the store. It seems like one was a Chapman.
It all started at a little lake 30 miles or so north of Hyannis, Nebraska, by watching a guy I barely knew fly fish. But the seed was sown, and it matured into a lifelong hobby with a number of people helping me on my fly tying and fly fishing journey. I’m sure glad they took the time to help me as I learned the ins and outs of fly fishing. I will forever be thankful to those who volunteered their time and their knowledge.
So who are you mentoring?
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