Grandfather’s Flies – Hand Tied in PA some 50 years ago and ready for action on the MO – photo by Jim Murray
Guest Blog from WCA Guide Jim Murray
It’s not always big brown trout. Or days spent catching fish after fish. While those moments and memories are great, sometimes it’s the little things that grab us the most, and remind us how lucky we are that we get to spend our days and lives on the water. I had the chance to fish with Andrew and Aaron this week, and it was a day that I won’t soon forget. Andrew was in Montana for the first time, visiting his son Aaron, who is in the Air Force and stationed in Great Falls. Being from Florida, he had never seen Montana, wild rivers, grizzly bears, elk, or caught a fish on a fly rod. Being in Montana for the first time, he decided to check a few items off his bucket list and “Experience the Montana Experience”.
I met Andrew and Aaron at the shop in the morning and as we planned our day, he mentioned, that while he had never held a fly rod, his grandfather used to be an accomplished fly fisher and fly tyer back in Pennsylvania after World War II. In fact, his father had just given him a box of flies that his grandfather had tied back in either the 1950’s or early 1960’s. He showed me the box of flies and asked if there was any way that the flies would work on the river that day, and if he could fish with them. As I looked through the box, I was impressed at the well tied flies. Catskill type dry flies. Classic wet flies. It was like looking at a fly fishing time capsule. I said that I would be happy to tie on one of his grandfather’s flies, but first, let’s learn how to cast a fly rod. And maybe catch a fish or two with some of our more modern techniques.
We had a fun day, floating the Missouri on a beautiful day and getting both Andrew and Aaron into numerous nice rainbows and one really nice brown.
Aaron with a fine Missouri River brown
The day and the “Montana Experience” was complete. Except for one thing. The box of 60 year old flies in Andrew’s backpack. As we approached the Untouchables Bridge, I knew our float was nearing the end, and I asked Andrew if he still wanted to throw one of his grandfather’s flies. He replied that even if it meant not catching another trout, he wanted to throw one of his flies for the rest of trip. Done deal. I rigged up a dry fly rod, picked out a likely looking fly that might fool a fish for the many pseudos that were hatching, and had Andrew cast the fly along a nice flat, that had a few rising fish.
Andrew couldn’t believe he was fishing one of his grandfather’s flies, and He, Aaron and I watched as the fly drifted drag free through the flat. Boom. Fish on. A small rainbow attacked the fly, and I’m pretty sure you could have heard the three of us screaming with excitement throughout the Canyon. We landed the rainbow and the moment was complete. While the rainbow would be hard pressed to pass 6 inches, it was the biggest, most special fish of the day. By Far.
A very special fish for Andrew – photo by Jim Murray
Andrew had shown up at the shop that morning, having never held a fly rod, and ended the day catching a trout in Montana on flies his grandfather had tied in Pennsylvania 50 or 60 years ago. It was a special moment and a special day. I felt lucky to be a part of it. As soon as we got off the river, Andrew texted his father, relaying the story. His father replied that he had goose bumps. Me too, Andrew.
Thanks for a great day. I was proud to be a part of it!
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