I began tying flies about 9 years ago to feed a fly fishing habit that required more in flies than a 20 year 
old could afford. Soon after, I took a trip to Alaska.  It was on that trip I saw my first Salmon Fly - in a 
book on Steelhead patterns from British Columbia written by Charles Lundgren.  From the first glimpse,
I knew I had to tie them.  From the brilliant colors to the shape and grace, I was addicted immediately.
Now, some 5 years after my first contact with that fly, I realize I stepped in a little deep.  I will never tie 
them all, nor will I ever know all there is to know about them.  There are literally thousands of flies to 
choose from each time I sit down at my vice.  Books are hard to find, and I am not creative enough to 
design my own, preferring to tie what others have created.  There are probably 400 true classics at the 
head of the list I can choose from.  I have tied perhaps 25 from that list.  Only when I have mastered 
them, will I move onto my own flies. That end - while not attainable - does justify the means.  
The flies have pretty names indicating the location of their inception such as the Balmoral named for the 
Scottish Balmoral Castle.  
Others are named for famous gillies, such as the Jock Scott, or even, for water conditions and the
Floodtide. Either way, all have a certain air of upperclassmanship as the salmon they were intended to 
be used upon demanded.
My flies are tied on hooks I make as most hooks you buy are not nearly as pretty.  The eyes on the 
hooks are made from silkworm gut relating to tradition more than anything else - they couldn't put eyes 
on hooks until the early 1900's.   The flies all originate from the British Isles, most coming from the rivers 
of Scotland such as the river Dee, or the river Spey.  All date to at least the late 1800's, some dating well 
before that. These flies represent an era that is all but gone.  I tie them to as their recipes are given, 
using substitute materials when needed as some of the original feathers are now either illegal, 
unobtainable, or priced beyond my means. If nothing else, it takes me to a time and place that will never
again exist as it once did.
My trout flies represent a more practical side of my tying.  They are practical because they need to be.  
They are there to represent what a fish might like to eat.  Some replicate an exact food form, and some 
replicate an idea of what I think the trout might want to eat.  They are beautiful in their own right, some 
being very simple, and some more complex.  None of them approach the league of complexity a
salmon fly does. Alas, they are not supposed to.  They need to be fast - and cheap enough that I can 
afford to throw them in trees as I oftentimes do.  
I hope you enjoy my work
Spring 2003 - Lanesboro, MN