Image provided by: Friends of the Sandy Public Library; Sandy, OR
About Sandy post. (Sandy, Oregon) 1938-current | View Entire Issue (April 20, 1978)
(ext and photographs by DOUGLAS GANTENBEIN Tying oifß oi? SOME OF' Roy Davis’ hook, feather and yarn creations. ROY DAVIS: A master craftsman when it comes to making attractive lures for steelhead. Rhododendron's Roy Davis ties the flies that area steelhead love to bite The fan-tailed, multi-colored and sometimes goggle-eyed devices scarcely resemble the insects they are supposedly derived from. But to a steelhead, they’re just as irresistible. ‘‘They’re for attraction," says Rhododendron fly-tyer Roy Davis of his miniature bugs. "You get the right color in front of a damn steelhead and they’ll grab at it." According to Davis, fish spend most of their time looking up, and any bright or dark color that gives a good silhouette will attract their attention. And he should know. After tying trout and steelhead flies for himself for almost 20 years, Davis turned pro three years ago and now makes up to 250 flies per week for a Gresham sporting goods store " I started doing it just for something to do.” says the crusty 70 year-old. "Now I ’m in it deeper than I care to be." Davis became a serious student of fishing flies after a pair of serious logging accidents during the 60s put him out of the woods for keeps after 35 years as a logger Self taught, he tied flies for his own use both to keep his hands busy and save money "Flies are expensive, and if you haven’t got at least 50 of them there isn’t any use in going fishing." Davis says, pausing to drop a dab of tobacco juice in a large pail next to his bench Most days Davis is at his bench at five in the morning, to get some work in before breakfast “That’s when the missus goes off to work," he explains of his early hours "And after you’ve spent your life in the woods you can’t go back to sleep " Davis’ wife, Corene, works at the Gresham Fred Meyer store. On an average day, Davis will turn out three to three and-a-ha If dozen flies. ( "Four dozen if I don’t get lazy.") He is an acknowledged master at his craft, with a regular repertoire of over 40 Hies. While some he designs himself, in cluding one glaring red monster dubbed the "Red Lion,” many of his models come from fishing magazines and may include any one of over 600 individually named flies Davis is a craftsman, and like any artisan he gives each type of fly his own personal touch, changing the color or type of tail to suit his taste or what he hopes is the taste of local fish. Almost any variation he chooses to make will find a market, he says. "Sportsmen are the craziest group in the world. They never have just exactly what they want, they’re always trying something new." Beginning with a bare hook. Davis forms his flies with yam , feathers, chenille and thread with a deftness that belies his gnarled woodsman's hands, passing on bits of advice as he works "You’ve got to be sure and use enough glue," he says, daubir« on a glistening drop of cement “That’s where a lot of people make a mistake " In about four or five minutes the finished fly is ready, often bearing a name as colorful as the bright feathers streaming out from it. "Deschutes Dragon." "White Winged Skunk’’ and the “Max Canyon" are just a few of the many types Davis makes. Davis confines himself largely to steelhead flies, although he still makes a few of the delicate trout flies for his own use " I don’t like to fool with the little fellers," he says of trout flies. "They’re too hard to see." While Davis has all the demand he can handle, he has a problem getting quality supplies. Take feathers, for exam ple. "G am ecocks have the best fly feathers," he says. "But they're getting hard to find. Now they’re butchering old roosters and sending us the feathers." He contemptuously picks up a lump of bright orange-dyed feathers. "You w can hardly get a good shaft from this crap,’’ he grumbles. And wool. Wool yam has to be used so it won't "lump up" but Davis can only find it at one store in the entire greater Portland area. "Sometimes I spend the whole day just trying to find the things I need," Davis says. But he doesn’t mind putting in the extra effort to get the best, sometimes ordering materials from as far away as India or New York. "You got to have top m aterial," Davis says adamantly Davis doesn’t readily recommend fly- tying as a hobby and says it's time consuming and "pretty damned ex pensive." "M y advice to people who want to start doing this is that they take a ¿lass N IM B LE FIN G ERS assemble a pop alar White Winged Sknnk. J on it and find out what they need,' he says. An enthusiastic outdoorsman, Davis keeps his hand in at both fishing and hunting, and last year purchased a four-wheel drive truck to get him further back in the woods. He’s also an accomplished lapidarist, making paper weights and pen sets for friends and relatives But generally he's at his work bench, magnifying goggles pulled over his eyes, gluing, tying and feathering his flies "There’s no big money in it, but it’s something to do" he says as another H hite Wing Skunk comes off his vise
