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- Written by: Rich
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Well, as you can tell the blog section of the webpage was rather light in 2023. Although writing is something I do enjoy, keeping a steady stream of valuable reading material for those of you who appreciate what I do is often a noble idea, but one that frequently takes a backseat to life in general, and well to be quite frank chasing my passion. Add in the fact that I tie flies for a living for others and well, there you have it. I have contributed some material and time to others articles, podcasts and organizations looking for donations in the past year, one thing you probably have noticed isn’t happening is presenting at the flyfishing trade shows.
To be honest, I miss the days of hanging out after hours with all the great folks who comprised the fabric that made those shows what they were. It was by far the highlight of an otherwise grinder of a weekend away from home, family and the vise where I could be doing what I do; tie flies for my customers. I like many have come to terms with the reality that the show scene dynamic has changed, and the need to be there isn’t all that important at this stage in my life. As I always say, you gotta take care of what’s in front of you.
There very well may come a time once my daughters are off to college where I revisit the notion of attending/presenting at the shows again, but I cannot guarantee that. My fear that the writing is on the wall for large shows as attendance has shown, and like many things that were the norm they will start to drop off the map like our striped bass stocks but in this case, never return. Things have changed, information flows freely and differently in todays world with the advent of the smart phone, and that old “Amazon” click and deliver effect has made it too easy to swipe for what we need without having to go somewhere. For many, it is just too easy to sit behind their tiny screens and search up a video and be content with what they find rather than get in the car and go see somebody in person who actually might have a lot more to offer than that 60 second clip they watched.
Comparatively, it is so glaringly obvious to me after various interactions in the past couple of years that the desire to carry on traditions, remember and highlight the history, or better yet have the desire to even recognize it is just simply nothing today’s generation of anglers and fly tiers is remotely even interested in. It falls right into the the 3E acronym a close brother of mine made me aware of which seems to be the mantra of todays flyfishing industry. Those 3E’s are: Explore, Exploit, Extinct.
So a bit late on my part, but never too late in my opinion, I have finally begun adding in some classic streamers into the store. I have always had an interest in these wonderful patterns that I fished in my youth that were the tinder in what sparked a lifelong pursuit into the depths of streamer fishing and fly design. The roots of these patterns run deep and in todays world seem to be getting lost in the mix. My hope is to keep those older flies relevant in todays world by honoring those who created them decades if not centuries ago by providing them for you. Some might be slightly different from the original recipe due to the inability to find a specific material, or better yet, a material that is much better than what was available at their inception is now present and incorporated in their construction. As I have said before, substitutions in materials are not an issue in my eyes, as long as they are relatively close in nature to that which they are substituting.
Often in fly tying, an individual tiers style is infused into that original design to provide something slightly different but in all essence a rendition of a pattern that has become a household design. Some tiers have a knack for eloquently infusing their style into a time tested fly design, and it shows in a tasteful manner. Some simply infuse their style and think that they have invented something new. The truth lies somewhere in the middle I am afraid, but I am not here to be the judge of who’s right or wrong, all of us who have gone down this rabbit hole have been inspired by those before us, just remember that and your ok in my book. A tiers style is what sets them apart from others, but in doing so they owe it to the originator of that particular pattern to give credit where credit is due.
As you will see, a classics section in the streamers tab has been added to the store. This will be a section of streamers that will grow in the coming year on a rather regular basis. I may even do a few tying videos on some of these in the future despite the internet being deep in these types of flies at present. If that happens, you will most likely garner some valuable tips in these flies construction as there are some finer nuances that repetitive construction of these provides that the average tier might overlook. These tips may speed up the tying sequence from a commercial tiers perspective, but the value is there for every tier, so why not share.
I have started with some bucktails, but featherwings and a few other odd balls will be added to the mix in the not so distant future. Heck, I may even offer up some presentation quality versions for those who collect them as well as there has been some interest there too, stay tuned for that. For now enjoy the offerings, and know this, these are tied with pride in mind and offered at a fair price for those of you looking to purchase. Thanks again for everything in 2023, and may you and your family have a safe and happy holidays and a great new year.
Best,
-RS-
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- Written by: Rich
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I am often amazed at the timliness of acts and instances in life that seem to appear out of thin air coinciding with memories that pop into your mind by chance. Although I had been asked similar questions in the past several years, one in particular came in an email a few weeks ago which really triggered some very relatable memories.
One of my customers had mentioned that he and his wife recently welcomed their first child into this world, and he was overcome by this overwhelming feeling that he simply couldn’t get his flyboxes filled or find the time to get out on the water as often due to his new set of obligations. Being an admirer of my work and recognizing that I am a dad that flyfishes he felt compelled asking for some guidance on how to find the time to get out on the river or at the vise. This email hit my inbox shortly after a rather lenghty array of mishaps, challenges and curveballs had recently presented themselves to my family, many of which were involving parenting, so although honored for considering my input on the subject, the question seemed to come at a time in my life where I can supply a decent response.
I for one do not claim to be an expert on parenting, if any of you reading this happen to know one, by all means forward their contact information as I have a laundry list of questions. Being a dad is a very rewarding experience, but with the rewards are an equal or greater number of challenges. Many become milestones in the growth of your kids, but you quickly realize that once one apparent conquered obstacle is only replaced by yet another waiting in the shadows. This is very synonomous with life in general; albeit just another piece of the puzzle of the giant puzzle we so seemingly take an entire lifetime putting together.
For some the idea of raising a family is just not something they are interested in, and on some of your most trying days you can understand why. But like anything in life, things change and shortly after that rather dark idea comes into your mind, it is swiftly replaced by not knowing if you could live your life without those kids as you simply couldn’t love something so much. And not even flyfishing is a close second, the gap between that feeling between your children and everything else when you stop to compare is far greater than the Grand Canyon; words cannot describe it.
It seems like just a few days ago we welcomed our two daughters into this world; now both teenagers, staring my wife in the eyes, it is hard to imagine just how quickly that time has passed as we watch them both grow up. We are far from perfect in the Strolis household, and although perfection is a noble idea, it truly isn’t realistic as life trips us all up now and then even in ourfinest hours, but I wholeheartedly believe that when it does there is some hidden message there if you are willing and able to make yourself aware.
So, for those of you out there who have embraced the flyfishing journey, and are struggling with coming to terms with not being numero uno on the priority list of life now that things have changed, here are a few things from the last fifteen years that kept my head in the game while taking care of the most important of things; that which is in front of me.
First and foremost, congratulations on the latest addition to your family. It goes without saying, that your lives are forever changed. Becoming a dad is, as I am sure you are so obviously now aware; a trial by fire that requires a great deal of your time, effort and devotion. Life changes; priorities, responsibilities are front and center, and many things like going fishing will now take a back seat. One thing that holds true, is flyfishing will always be part of your life if it means something to you, and now is the time when you will recognize just how much.
Honestly, as our family grew my fishing time was greatly reduced, and at first it was an extreme culture shock. In the beginning, I managed to maintain a regular connection to the water, guiding on a weekly basis until it simply became too much to juggle with another career. Kids need you a great deal in their early years, and if you want them to grow up and be self sufficient, intelligent, hard working, productive, kind human beings, then you need to make them your greatest investment.
In the midst of all this, at first it will feel odd, as you shift your priorities away from yourself, and put your family first. But in time it will become instinctual, and by then you just might have figured out that fishing less isn’t really all that bad, it is actually ok; flyfishing will always be there but your kids being young will unfortunately not. I have a Sophomore and an Eighth grader at home now, and my wife and I still cannot wrap our heads around that statement as it seems like just yesterday we were walking out of the hospital with them. A wise person once told me, “Enjoy it now while they’re young as time flies and before you know it they’ll be out of the house”. And looking back now that statement is so true as I recognize in a few short years mine will both be off to College or wherever life takes them as they embark on their own journey of life.
If you need that water fix, then change your mindset from placing the emphasis on catching, and focus more on the overall experience. The sport as a whole could take this advice; our fast paced world has made many of us blind to this notion as it often feels as though we’ve become too preoccupied by the need to produce content, instead of just being part of the experience. A bunch of likes online from people that really do not know you may feel good to your psyche, it truly has very little if any meaning in the reality of life. Always remember, it is your time, and now it that your time is limited do your best job making the most of it by doing exactly what you want, how you want, with whomover you want.
Once I became a dad, I soon took the emphasis off of always fishing, always succeeding and doing well, and focused on those things. The scenery, the people(few) I share it with, the location and the sense of adventure, which also maintained in some sense, but also revitalized my passion for the sport as a whole exponentially. In my twenties and early thirties I was on the water so much that it became blatantly obvious just how much I overlooked and took it all for granted.
If simplification is the recipe for maximizing the very little time you have or will have now that you’re a dad, figure out what you enjoy the most about the sport. That one thing could be just about anything; a specific style or technique, a species, a river or location and use that to build the flies you tie around that and be fine with whatever the outcome may be, good bad or indifferent. But always remember, you were afforded the opportunity to get out there, decompress in nature and have some time to yourself or with whomever you enjoy it with. You make time whatever you want it to be, same goes for the fishing and flies. I tie flies for a living, but am a firm believer that fish can be fooled on just about anything so don’t put all your eggs in the “fly basket” so to speak. And don’t put so much emphasis and pressure on what you “gotta have” in that fly box, tie a few whenever you can, even if it is for ten minutes after you put that little one to bed. Before you know it, you will have an entire box filled and ready for that day you can get on the water.
What’s in my bag all the time truly depends on what my mood is on any given day. If I am just going to fish streamers, the Alter Ego, Dumpster dinner, and the “Banger” are there but that like the seasons change. When I go out to spotlight a hatch, I tie up 6-18 flies that will cover the prevailing hatch(es), that could be 1-4 patterns. Some days I do well, others maybe its a struggle but I still got out there, and part of the allure for me is the cerebral part of deducing what the fish will eat.
No matter what experience or level of skill set you may possess, you aren’t always “on”, even the best will get stumped from time to time. I am totally fine with that, as I said earlier, its part of the allure. Embrace it, don’t feel overwhelmed by filling boxes, constantly having to be catching; its just fishing. At the end of the day, you probably have more than what you need now to go fishing anyway. Being a parent forces the notion that it’s now time to put ourselves second even third and not to sound harsh, grow up a little. Trust me, it was a tough pill to swallow at first, but what I have learned over time is that the time you put into the growth of that child you will get back ten fold later. Heck you might even have one hell of a fishing partner too.
I like to look at things in life with the glass half full mindset, and although I have come off a bit harsh to some with some “rants”, in all actuality I am a forever optimist. If I wasn’t, I would’ve given up on flyfishing a very long time ago. Do yourself and your family a favor, cut out the unecessary distractions, and make the real world experience, human interaction, and nature a part of every day and you will indeed be rewarded.
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Once or twice a year I make it a point to grab the glass rod, a small pack of dry flies and head back home and bushwack to a few of the blue lines that I frequented as a young boy. I honestly don’t know exactly what my reasoning is; could be that I want to feel like a kid again, maybe I wanna be sure that those wily natives I tangled with growing up are still thriving, or maybe because these are truly the lonly places that I can honestly say are the surest bet of seeking out peace and quiet with a fly rod these days.
Life comes at us all fast with varying degrees of peaks and valleys, and as I’ve gotten older with the help of a twenty year career as a public servant, my empathy towards others, understanding the concept that you truly do not know what another person might be dealing with is a profound idea that would seriously benefit a great deal of the self absorbed folks we seem to bump into on a much more regular basis. Even though just hours prior I’m cursing at some stranger while behind the steering wheel becomes a daily occurrance as some preoccuppied so and so is too busy focusing on swiping their smartphone instead of devoting their time to the road their navigating in a 2 ton gas powered projectile.
I typically go to these places alone, but as I grow older and my inner circle of what I consider brothers (others would call close friends) grows even smaller, I try to share these experiences with those who actually understand their value and truly appreciate them. These are but one of the few places other than the pain cave (what I call my gym) where I can truly slow down. Recently I had the pleasure of doing just that with one of these brothers and it had a profound impact on him.
Muddog as he is more readily known, Mike to me, although he feels like a lifelong brother has really become a part of that circle in recent years. I guess you could say we are both doing what we can to make up for lost time together. When we catch up, we both recognize the hard truth that we are on the other half of the ruler in relation to our short time left on this earth, so we have made it a point to capitalize on those things that we hope never change.
A true disciple of the salt, Mike is a man of few words but when he speaks the messages are profound and so clear and concise like the days he had to articulate that last collar while working the streets of Burlington. I guess we connect on levels that few would understand from our backgrounds, but we understand eachother like some of our other aquaintances might not. As we meandered our way into the valley of this one rather memorable blue line the conversation stopped as he absorbed what this particular venue can do to your soul.
To be clear, these places are and aren’t about the fish. They are about stepping back in time and wrapping your head around the notion of what the concept of wild really means. They don’t necessarily have to be thousands of miles from home in some hard to reach corner of the planet. Granted, those from experience are always worth the price of admission, but after four decades of travel around the planet, I can honestly say you can find these places close to home if you are willing to seek them out; in otherwords, its all relative.
From the rugged landscape, rock formations made by water, to the original strain of eastern Brook Trout that once inhabited a vast majority of our waterways, these unique specimens are now confined to these higher elevation streams protected by natures green canopy. It all quickly becomes a total sensory overload as you find your eyes struggling to stay focused on one singular thing; your ears are tickled with natures stereo by the song of various birds and other things making music around you while your nose continues to inhale that earthy aroma you can’t quite describe, but those who have spent time there can relate when brought up in conversation.
After being fortunate to have fooled a 10 inch brook trout in one of those crystal clear waterfall pools, by all means a trophy in these waters, I could see the gears turning in Muddog’s head. Part of me knew exactly what he was soon to ask on our hike out of this valley hidden under the canopy of pine, oak and maple, after we marched uphill from our last dramatic twenty plus foot waterfall.
“Hey, I was wondering, how the hell did those fish get above these falls into some of those pools”, he blurted out as we crested the final hill next to a stone wall that at one time delineated what was once a barrier for livestock several hundred years prior. “I was wondering when you were going to ask that question” I responded. A long conversation ensued with a great deal of speculation but no clear answers, and that’s ok as that is part of what makes this place magical.
To be honest, I couldn’t tell you definitevely as I have often contemplated that very question since the very first time I set foot here almost forty years ago. Ice age? Birds? Who really knows but they’re here and there is no real way to know which is the beauty of the mystery. What I do know is these places will forever spark my interest just knowing that not too far from the fray they still exist, if you’re willing and able to search them out. The day we destroy these places is the day all hope is lost; hopefully the human race will recognize that before it happens. I am hopeful but skeptical to say the least, but I do know that I am going to keep on trying to pretend I am that little kid for as long as my body will allow, and I will do my damnedest to make sure they stay that way.
