From - How often do you get out:
Outside of work, family and church, all I do is fish, but I don't do much of it. Not that I don't have other interests, but fishing is the only thing that I haven't given up trying to make time for. Luckily, as Sparse Grey Hackle said: "some of the best fishing is print" and with my books, I go out every night around 10:00. I'm happily married with 3 younger kids and w/their sports (coaching 2 of them) and the homework and the music and the horses and keeping up with the property… just doesn't leave me much time to get out. I'm not complaining but I do like to think that my best fishing days are ahead of me but for now, I'm happy to be an armchair angler for quite a few more years

From - How'd ya get started:
Ironically, my father got me started fishing. He grew up on a Wisconsin dairy farm in the years following the depression. After a tour of duty he became an Engineer. This combination (Farmer, Army Vet. & Engineer) makes for a painfully practical man and an unlikely teacher of fishing. His idea of fishing was spearing bull-heads in the crick on the "back forty". Anything more elaborate was nonsense - a waste of time and money. Somehow though, he felt he should teach his 8 yr old boy to fish properly. He knew animals - how to hunt & how to skin, but catching trout he just didn't get. We spent the first few outings on a narrow stream staring into clear water at little stocked trout that were huddled up and staring back at us - not moving a fin, let alone eating our worms. This must have been nothin but torchure for my Dad, but he never let on and he stuck with me.

One afternoon, on a lake, we met another father and son team, only the son was older then my Pop and the father would have been in his late 70's or early 80's. The son used several spin rods with various baits and caught a lot of trout. His father used a cane fly rod on the feeder stream and didn't seem to care much about catching anything. I'll call him the old timer but that's with deepest respect - I don't know if I ever knew his name. Anyway, he figured out pretty quick that we were clueless and came over to help. The son didn't bother with us. He was on a mission. But the old guy took a genuine interest. We would meet every so often at the lake and in time, he and my father were trading stories and we were catching fish. He told us a few secrets that proved to be a great foundation! I wonder if I would have stuck with it if he hadn't stepped in.

It was bait fishing for me until I was 21. In 1990, shortly after starting my 1st job out of college, I told my boss (Jim) that I was leaving early to go fishing. Instead of being upset, he asked if I wanted some company. After a few outings, he introduced me to fly fishing. Apparently I was being tested. (Jimmy's the type that figures your an ass... until proven otherwise.) He told me all about hatches and leaders and drag free drifts and he loaned me a rod & reel. I jumped all over this new way of fishing - couldn't get enough information. By then he had already been going to the Catskills with his buddy Tommy for 10 or 15 yrs. 1992 would be my first trip. They showed me Lee & Joan Wulff's fishing school, the shops of the Darbee's and the Dette's and the Antrim Lodge (which was closed - but still wonderful) and all those legendary pools. It was there too that they showed me how to tie flies. I was amazed at that little whip finishing tool that Tommy used to finish off the head of a rusty spinner. I can't tell you how much I look forward to those trips now! The times we've had! It's been a few years now since we've been to Roscoe, but Donna's cabin, along the Willoweemoc, will always feel like a home away from home. I owe these two guys an aweful lot!!

That first yr I was in a little fly shop to buy my first fly rod and reel and hanging on a hook was this beautiful bamboo fly rod. The guy in the shop told me, with a sparkle in his eye, a little history & how they are made but I didn't know what made a good rod or anything about the maker, but I bought it. It just seemed appropriate - I think because I'm a sentimental fool. Plus it was cheaper then the new graphite rods. A few days later however, I caved to the pressures of the magizines and, wanting to be hip, I returned it and bought an expensive graphite outfit. Never did tell Jimmy or Tommy about that other rod.

Sometime in the mid 90's, I got into collecting books and many of these books were refering to bamboo rods much the way the guy in shop talked about that first rod that I returned. By this time, mountains, rivers and trout had become very important to me - to the point that it seriously skewed my view of the world. Something special was in order to reflect this passion. The rods of the "Golden Age" were clearly more special than cold, black, mass produced graphite and I was now convinced that they were not inferior, just prettier with a whole lot more character - the perfect compliment to fly fishing. So I set out to buy someone's "hand-me-down" - something with some history. When my first born came along the Nick Lyons story "The Legacy" took on a new meaning and my sentimental foolishness took to new levels. A few years later, in 1999, I ordered my own Legacy from a fine craftsman who, incidently was unbelievably gracious in dealing with all of my ridiculous questions and notions. I have no intensions of becoming a collector, but I boiught a few more rods for odd reasons.

Jimmy and Tom don't understand my fascination with cane but they don't hold it against me - at least not in my company. My father, on the other hand, still thinks its all nonsense, especially fly fishing. He did however, like that old timer. Its been over 25 yrs since the mans death but I still remember the day that we got the bad news and my Dad saying - "men like that should never die".