A Look Inside America's Favorite Flies

A LOOK INSIDE AMERICA'S FAVORITE FLIES

John Bryan and Rob Carter’s forthcoming book showcases the favorite flies of 224 notable anglers, including Joan Wulff, Lefty Kreh, and Yvon Chouinard. Naturally, they’ve called it America’s Favorite Flies. Is there an angler out there who hasn’t played this game? How else do you pass the time? Can you really know a fishing partner if you haven’t? Better still, each fly is accompanied by a story. Some are technical, others are funny, more than a few are sad, but each reveals something about the angler who contributed. Put together, they make up a book that transcends fly fishing. ~ Brett Tallman, Editor, Strong Runs

CONTRIBUTOR: Pat English | FAVORITE FLY: Girdle Bug

Forty-five years ago on my honeymoon I fished with my wife in Idaho and Montana. We were introduced to a local while fishing the Beaver Head River near Dillon, MT. He gave us a fly that was black with grey hackle and white legs made from the elastic in a ladies girdle. It works.

I’ve got lots of good memories of fishing. I never was really good at fly fishing. I liked any kind of fishing. Over the years I’ve caught with my hands, a net, hit ‘em with rocks, worms on the bottom, worms floating on a marshmallow, worms injected with air from a syringe, spinners, spoons, fly and bubble, dry flies, wet flies, Velveeta, floating cheese bait and in my dreams.

One cold November day when the deer hunt overlapped with fishing season I went with my two friends Robert (Bird) and Howard to Strawberry Reservoir ready to hunt or fish. We were just teenagers. When we got there, hunters were already on every ridge so we launched an old aluminum boat and went out fishing. We got out about fifty yards from shore and our little motor conked out. The wind blew us out away from shore a ways further as we tried to get the motor running.We noticed, soon enough, that we had no oars and threw out the anchors. We could have drifted all night. We worked on that motor hoping for the best when we heard gunshots way up the hill. A few minutes later more gun shots closer. We figured some poor deer was running for his life. Then we saw a nice buck run down the hill and out to the edge of the reservoir. It only paused for a second and then jumped in and began swimming across the bay to another point of land.

Luckily we were right in his line. We pulled up one anchor and tied a loop in the end. We laid down in the boat until he got close. On the second try we lassoed his antler. He pulled us safely to shore. Along the way we trolled our double Renegades and caught three fish. I swear by the spirit of “Mr. Kit Fish” and an old dead black cow it’s the truth.