
Something happened to me last weekend that I am still not over, I lost one of my really good flies. In the weed or on a sunken log I would not be as heartbroken, but this was different. It was on my hat. My place of honor as you may. A plethora of well loved flies that have seen many hours of battle and have done their tours in the rivers and streams of the west. They now rest upon my hat to proudly display their devotion to...