Greetings neighbors and fellow line slappers
My home is the wonderful Willamette Valley of Western Oregon. The mountains and the coast and the desert are all within easy driving distance. We are blessed with rivers here, truly blessed.
I began to fly fish back in 2003 so I started late in life. My wife had been horribly injured in a horse riding accident and I was working and taking care of her. Did not get much sleep for a very long time. I was going crazy; had no recreation, really no time for it, but I needed time for me. I was losing it. One day out of nowhere I thought about fly fishing. I do not know where the thought came from but there it was. I bought a basic outfit and went out the back door, crossed the yard into the pasture and started throwing the line around. Thank goodness for online resources. Eventually I gave the rod and reel to a fellow's foster son. I can still see his smile. Anyway, I bought more rods and reels and found time for myself. I fished for bluegills down the road a ways and for cutties and rainbows in the little river that runs through town. Fish were caught including a lovely coastal cutthroat on a fly I tied. It was my first trout. To this day I could show you exactly where I caught it even though it has been more than ten years. Since then I have accumulated a richness of rods and a cornucopia of fly reels. I became a better fly fisher and my wife slowly healed to the point where that was that for her. She is my hero because she was supposed to be a cripple and you should see her walk. My fly fishing and her body got better together. Probably both are as good as they will ever be and both are likely better than either of us thought they could be. So, this dear sport saved my sanity. I owe it something and try to give to new fly fishers whatever I can whenever I can. THere are a few things that are truly dear to me: my wife, my dog, my children and my fly fishing gear. Good fishing to all of you stewards of the water.