On fly selection . . .

The comments to my last post got me thinking about my evolution as a fly fisherman and tier.

When I started fly fishing I was a broke high-schooler who owned, maybe, twelve flies: an adams here, a hares ear or two there, a few box-store-bought woolly buggers (you know, the sort that come in a plastic and cardboard-backed container hanging on a hook at wally world), and perhaps a fewer high-quality flies stolen from my dad.

Once I figured out how to cast and where the fish were, I caught fish despite my poorly apportioned fly box.

Over time, I realized just how many different flies were out there, learned to tie, and had to carry a dozen of every type in various sizes every time I went fishing.

I caught fish, but not because I carried a thousand flies.  To this day, I'm still trying to lose the flies I tied during this period.

As time wore on, I began to realize that presentation was infinitely more important than fly selection, and I caught the vast majority of my fish on a small handful of flies.  The adams, hares ear and woolly bugger still had their spot in my box, but a well-placed parachute adams could do anything a Hi-Vis Knock-Down Dun could do and a sparsly-tied elk hair caddis could do anything a sedgehammer could do.  And the parachute adams and elk hair caddis are infinitely easier to tie.

Now that I find myself in Alaska, my box basically is down to two flies:

So, while there will always be a spot on fly shop shelves and in the new guy's vest for flies that catch fisherman, here's to the flies that catch the fish.