For fly-fishing anglers, fly rods are part of the equipment we use for a day of fishing. In general, fly rods are inorganic objects, with the most recent versions made from graphite, boron and most recently a return to fiberglass. There is a noted exception in that fly rods made from bamboo, when compared with man-made fibers, are alive in the hand and beautifully made.

Once I was old enough, it became time to purchase a serious, high-quality fly rod. Up to that point, it had been inexpensive bamboo and fiberglass rods from mass-market producers. At the time, thanks to my dad, I was fortunate enough to meet Robert (Bob) Sigsby. Bob was doing some work at the estate where my dad worked. When Dad learned that Bob was into fly fishing, he arranged for us to meet. 

A short time later, we visited Bob at his home in White Plains. During our visit, Bob gave me several boxes of English fly-tying hooks and a beautiful Jungle Cock neck that I still have, not a feather removed. 

I soon learned that Bob was a member of the Southern New York Sportsman Association. Southern New York sponsored a fly-tying program each week on Thursday nights at the county center in White Plains. I was able to attend those sessions, thanks to a friend that was a member and lived nearby. 

During one of the fly-tying sessions, I spoke with Bob about purchasing a bamboo fly rod kit from the Orvis Company in Manchester, VT. The kits came with an impregnated rod blank, ferules installed, plus guides, grip and reel seat. They cost a mere $50 at the time! I told Bob what length and line weight I wanted and he said he would order for me, explaining that he knew Wes Jordan, the rod maker at Orvis.  

A few weeks later, at one of the fly-tying sessions, Bob presented me with an aluminum rod tube with an Orvis logo at the top. When I opened the tube, instead of a rod blank, there was a complete, Orvis Madison fly rod! It was a 7 1/2-inch 5 weight, with a down-locking reel set and red wrappings at the guides. To say I was surprised and grateful to Bob for what he did, would be an understatement. I thanked him profusely.

Beginning with the 1959 trout season, my new Orvis—complete with a Plueger Medalist reel—became my constant companion. Over the years, it accompanied me on fishing trips everywhere, from New York to Montana. In New York, we fished the Beaverkill, the Willowemoc, Esopus, Amawalk Outlet, the West Branch of the Croton, both branches of the Upper Delaware and the Delaware River proper. We caught a lot of trout with that Orvis, including the nice brown shown in the accompanying photo.

In early September of 1961, I packed the Orvis in my duffel and headed to Missoula, MT, to begin four years at the university. During the first week there, I met John Peterson, who introduced me to his aunt Kate and uncle John. They lived within a short walk to the Bitterroot river. There was a bridge there, and that’s where I fished. Since it was fall, the fly hatches over, I rigged the Orvis to fish with bait. By that I mean: I attached a split shot and a number 10 light wire hook to my tippet. I turned over a few rocks and found a large salmon fly nymph, which was attached to my hook. I let the nymph drift in a side channel that flowed under the bridge and hooked my first Montana trout.

In the spring of 1962, we found a stonefly hatch on the Clark Fork River just outside of Missoula. I saw a trout rising, tied on a stone fly imitation and landed a nice brown. 

In the fall of the following year after returning to school, I went up to Rock Creek. It was October in the Rockies; fly hatches over. So I rigged two size-12 Isonychia nymphs to my tippet, attached a large split shot, and let those bounce the bottom in a very deep pool. 

During that trip, I landed a very large brown, along with several small smaller rainbows and a number of Rocky Mountain whitefish. I went back the following day, to the same spot with the same flies and did not move a fish.

I stayed in Montana the last summer to complete my degree and fish the Bitterroot River exclusively. On one trip, in mid-July, I hooked and landed a beautiful, large West Slope cutthroat trout. We returned to New York and back to the Catskill rivers after that.

In 1969, I met Ed Van Put while working at the DEC. That’s when we began to fish the Delaware River together. Ed had a canoe at Bouchoux Brook. One fall day while fishing from Ed’s canoe, he hooked a nice rainbow, so I placed the Orvis across the gunnels and reached for my camera. After I took the picture and looked for my Orvis, it was gone. It had slipped over the side and into the depths of the Delaware River—complete carelessness on my part. So that misadventure on the Delaware River that afternoon ended 12 years with my Orvis Madison fly rod. A sad and tragic ending to a wonderful relationship.