theHunt2.0
Member
- Joined
- Sep 2, 2025
- Messages
- 15
At this point, my fly box is less of a tackle box and more of a scrapbook. There are flies that worked once and earned a permanent spot because I'm convinced they're lucky. There are flies from little shops in places I'll probably never visit again but I can't bring myself to throw them out. Every now and then I'll find one and instantly remember the river, the weather, and whether I caught anything worth bragging about.
One of my favorites was tied by a guide who handed it to me and said, "Cast it under that willow on the far bank."
I did.
The fish ate it almost immediately...that fly has never touched the water since. As far as I'm concerned, it retired undefeated. Most people would probably look at my fly box and see a pile of old flies. I look at it and see years of trips, good days, bad days and stories I forgot I remembered. The flies are great but it's the memories attached to them that keep them around.
One of my favorites was tied by a guide who handed it to me and said, "Cast it under that willow on the far bank."
I did.
The fish ate it almost immediately...that fly has never touched the water since. As far as I'm concerned, it retired undefeated. Most people would probably look at my fly box and see a pile of old flies. I look at it and see years of trips, good days, bad days and stories I forgot I remembered. The flies are great but it's the memories attached to them that keep them around.