(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