big, two hearted river

fly fisherman are made, not born.
my adventures in flingin flies was created by steve westphal in years of stories, details, tips,
laughter, tying materials, rod blanks, and shared serendipity.
i resisted at first. i owned a multitude of 5 1/2 ft. medium heavy bass rods with shimano matching reels gleaming down from the rod rack. i had 45 lbs. of assorted plastic worms n jigs.
my tackle box could not be lifted eventually. just would not budge. gravity took over. too many cone head worm sinkers, too many crankbaits n jigs n spinnerbaits n such.
i was a bass fisherman. bred for a pedestal seat, a foot controlled trolling motor and vast southern impoundments to be conquered from the console of a ranger bass boat.
i did not go fishing unless i had 5, count em five rods, fresh spooled, and loaded with treble hooks freshly sharpened.
3 baitcast rods and 2 spinning.
it took a wheelbarrow, hey i ain't kidding, to get my gear from my shed to the lake a few hundred feet away.
i was at the "go pro or quit" stage of bass fever.
in those days, steve was right there bassin with me, but he always was more the gentleman fisherman than i was. i was lbs. and more lbs. and records and personal bests and expectations.
steve was more genteel. and he gently talked of fly fishing the snake river near valentine, nebraska. just fishing stories then, but they had their cumulative wave effect on me.
he backed up his stories with old copies of flyfisherman magazine that was at it's zenith then.
the finest writers with stories, lore, knowledge, and a tradition of art and fly fishing intertwined.
those thumbed copies reside in a special wood box in our deaddrift archives and library complex now. they are still used for research and a nostalgic remembrances and searches for lost fly patterns.
eventually on a fateful day, steve dumped a couple boxes of feathers n bits of shiney stuff, and furs, and goofy things, and tools and a ten buck vise at my feet. "i can't see enough to tie flies anymore. you could do it. i'll show ya how."
well, i was hip deep in electric blue fire tail plastic worms and trying to get more.
bruce and i were trying to figure a plan to buy the company. it was up for sale at the time, and we figured that if we owned the place we would have enough for awhile and could worry about buying 12 lb. mono in boxcar loads.
but, steve was patient. and he needed some flies. so i began my lessons.
steve would come over every day for weeks and weeks and weeks and he would show me a fly.
show me how to tie it. talked symmetry and proportion. of "bugginess" and tactics and stream flow. i would then tie a dozen flies that day. the next day session steve would critique the effort.
show me new moves, discussed techniques, and suggested improvements.
then i would cut off the fly from the hooks and start over. we had limited hooks.
i tied flies for a year or more before i tossed them into moving water, learning on the lakes around me. i still threw the hardware, but my consciousness was changing.
i wore out 3 ten buck vises. i am on my second 25 buck vise.

couple decades went by and now i carry a lil fanny pack and a fly rod.
fishing for me now is only really "fishing" when steve is 10 ft. from me while i cast, calmingly narrating the action, when to mend to the left, wait till the fly drifts over the hole,
and laughing large when the fish fools me again.

steve is my big, two hearted river.

steve westphal's blog is at http://hoggertheblogger.blogspot.com/