Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I lost a fly box. Not an old crappy fly box with a handful of flies, but the fly box, the only trout box I carry when fishing. A Richard Wheatly stuffed to the gills with wet flies, terrestrials, streamers, spinners, midges, emergers, scuds, shrimp, bead heads, etc…. You name it, I probably had a couple wedged in my box. I’m thinking I lost anywhere from 300 to 500 flies. One stupid slip in the river cost me a lot more money then I care to admit. You can do the math.
If there’s one thing I’ve dreaded losing, it’s a box. A broken rod, there’s a lifetime warranty. Broken reel, get a replacement piece. Rip your waders, and you can glue them back together. But a well-seasoned fly box takes months or years of tweaking to get in order, one section at a time as you fish and learn what works.
I did not have my name or number on my box. Going forward I always will.