PART TWO

My first visit with Tom came in early May. I pulled in behind him, just before noon, on a sunny typical Spring day. He was standing at the back of his car returning his gear after a morning of fishing. Asking how he had done, he turned, smiled and asked if I had ten dollars. I did and that ten dollars might have been the best ten dollars I ever spent.

Up to that point I had been fly fishing for four years. It was a slow learning curve, there weren’t many videos yet, no internet. Most of what I knew came from reading and hands-on experience. I only fished on the surface, it was all visible so more easily understood. I took fish, usually, but knew that beneath the surface there must be so much more.

As we spoke about his morning Tom told me of his success fishing a new pattern. A fly proving to be very successful. For that ten dollars we would sit in his Pinto, he would show me how to tie it and then he would show me some of the ways he fished it. It would be my opportunity to break through the surface and open a new chapter in my fishing exploits.

We sat in his car that morning, cigarette smoke drifting out of the open windows. With thread, lead and a Hares Ears mask Tom showed me how he created his new pattern, the Hares Ear Scud. He tied two, placed them in my hand and then we walked upstream to continue my education.

We stood in the tail of a small pool, created by a small riffle to the left and a larger one to the right. Tom had been there earlier in the morning and had taken a couple, he had little doubt that he could do it again. He placed a small pinch-on indicator on his leader and spread his cast throughout the pool, both of us watching that small piece of foam for any indication that his Scud had been taken.

It didn’t take long before Tom caught his first trout, or his second and a third. Eventually, we worked our way upstream, it was my turn. He handed me a strike indicator, told me where to place it on my leader and pointed to where I was to place my fly. Almost like magic, just a few casts later, the indicator paused and I set the hook on my first Scud caught trout. We proceeded upstream, Tom, always talking. Me, soaking it all in.

The lessons continued that afternoon, eventually ending when we decided we had caught enough. I had a new fly, a new technique. One that I would use the next afternoon, in different water, without Tom. His fly, his techniques, worked that day too and then the rest of the season and for decades to follow. It became my first choice on new waters and proceeded to catch fish wherever I traveled in the driftless.