We’re starting a new project here on Chi Wulff tomorrow that we think most fly fisher folk will find damned interesting.
We’re not quite sure what to call it as of this morning, but we’re sure what it will be about.
A bit of background is in order.
I’ve personally been fly fishing since 1984; I came to the sport lifestyle late though fell in with total abandon. Fly tying and rod building followed within 18 months of my first cast; a drift boat was under construction in the old shop out back the next spring.
It was in fact during the drive from SLC out to Vida, Oregon to visit Greg Tatman’s wooden boat shop on the McKenzie (now West Coast Wooden Boats by the way) that an epiphany of sorts happened.
To make the logistics work I had left SLC in the wee hours to reach Greg’s shop in time to load up all the supplies and lumber for two boats – my first and another for a friend. I hit the shop about 330 that afternoon to find Greg and his team placidly rummaging about his somewhat eclectic shop rounding up the last materials for the boats.
I had wanted to put mahogany gunnels (rails) on my boat and Greg had ordered in some gorgeous mahogany stock, ripped it to width and they were in fact just running it through their ancient planer when I arrived.
The planer shredded it; there was something about the orientation of the grain in the stock that he’d ordered in, probably coupled with a set of planer of blades due sharpening, that made it impossible to work.
Greg felt terrible, refunded my upcharge in cash out of his pocket and insisted that he buy me dinner in a little eatery just up the road.
Before we left the shop, he ducked into his tiny office and I peeked in to see a pile of books (include the complete works of William Shakespeare) and a watercolor in progress.
We snugged the load down on the trailer and drove up for a quick burger, GT in his well worn jean overalls. As we chatted about fishing I couldn’t help but ask about the books and the watercolor.
To make a long story short, turns out Greg had earned in years past a masters in either English or American literature (I can’t remember now), had written quite a bit and was in fact an accomplished water colorist.
We parted fairly quickly thereafter and as I pondered the afternoon’s events driving across the great emptiness that can be eastern Oregon, the aforementioned epiphany struck me.
The fly fishing people that I had been meeting over the past months were damned interesting; most (not all, but most) were different than my professional colleagues and non fishers in my circle of friends.
While there are fly fishers who are misanthropic, antisocial-personalitied asshats out there, the world of fly fishing seems to have drawn an astounding array of gifted and interesting folks into the fold.
Clearly we’re biased from where we sit, but none of us can think of any other sport or recreational sector that generates the volume of good prose, photography, videography and art that fly fishers create. We’re also impressed as hell to note that fly fishers are beginning to wake up and smell the coffee when it comes to preservation of fish and fisheries.
Finally back to the point of this post – starting tomorrow we’ll begin posting a new series of interviews focusing on the people of fly fishing. What makes them tick, what are they working on, why do they do what they do. And more.
First up tomorrow – Sam Snyder from Alaska, author of the Headwaters of History blog, musician, father and perhaps emerging as one of fly fishing’s preeminent historians.
