Tying Craven's Lucky B Fly

I have always had a romanticized notion about outdoor writers. As a kid, I faithfully read and re-read every word of every fishing magazine I could lay my hands on. The men that wrote for those magazines were larger than life and were seemingly on a constant string of exotic adventures which they then relayed to their readers with delicate and detailed words and pictures. I imagined days and weeks at a time spent fishing with a few short hours intermixed to type the inevitably fantastical stories out in the evening, usually with a glass of brown liquid at the writer’s elbow.

And so, years ago, when Ross Purnell asked me if I wanted to become the Fly Tyer’s Bench...

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