A posting I made on another site to a thread about the "Tellico Nymph".
A great story to go along with this great fly!
I was fishing the famous White River in Central Arkansas, one fall day. This is a “tail water” type river, below an electric generating dam. As they release water, there are times that us wade fishermen will need to get on out for awhile until the water level stabilizes. On this day, I took that time to walk over to a local bate / tackle shop, striking up a conversation with the shop keeper. After a few minutes, an older gentleman, struggling some in his walking, comes into the shop. He describes how he had fished this river some 30 years prior and had his best trout fishing ever, fishing with a “Tellico Nymph”. The gent went on to tell how he was recently, now 83 years old, was diagnosed with heart failure and how his son, remembering the great fishing story, told often over the years, had talked him into a “fishing trip”. The two had traveled three days to get to this spot….
this river. As the man ended his story, he asked the shop keeper if he had any “Tellico Nymphs”. To say that the gent’s spirit shifted to sadness was an understatement, as the shop keeper explained that he had never heard of the fly. The old guy, expressed thanks, stating “I was just hoping…..”. He turned and slowly walked across the park towards where a younger man was setting camp.
As I always have my tying tools when I travel to fish, and recalled having seen that fly in a recently purchased reference book of historical flies that I had on hand, I set about, there on the bank of
his river and tied up a half dozen of those Tellico Nymph. Putting the tools away, I walked to the travel home and knocked on the door. The older gent came to answer as I announced that the river was once again stable to fish. Holding out my hand to his, I said, “you’ll needs these……”. Tears came to his eyes, as well as to mine, and I have never seen a person his age, gather gear so quickly.
May I say, that the best fishing trip I have ever had, was not one of catching fish…. but in sharing those flies and then watching from distance as that gentleman wadded the edges of
his waters for what may no doubt, have been his last trip. His casting stroke was that of a much younger, energized man, that evening. I’ll never forget his call: “fish on!...” as he raised that fly rod into a sweet bend.
Read more:
http://ukflydressing.proboards.com/inde ... z1U7Y0sLBR
