The Perfect Fly
By Kurt Shaffer
As fishermen, we strive for perfection. The perfect cast, perfect drift, the list can go on forever. As a fly tyer, I've been on the quest to develop the perfect fly for years.
I'll quickly introduce myself. My name is Kurt Shaffer, and in 2023, I started PGH Fly Co. 10 years earlier, I started playing around with fly tying; it really appealed to my inner nerd. I've been tying my patterns since 2017, and a few months after starting PGH Fly Co, I made it my business model. I've studied insects extensively over the years. Reading books, collecting bugs, and watching hours of videos, all in the search for the perfect fly.
The quest for the perfect fly started in Erie, Pennsylvania. This had taken place over a few trips with varying conditions. I was fishing the tributaries for Great Lakes Steelhead. I was fishing the standard crystal meth with a single yarn egg underneath. I started noticing all of these little black bugs all over the place. I snapped some pictures and when I got home, i hit the vise. I dug through materials and tested them over and over again. I stared at the pictures I took, ensuring the body taper and proportions were perfect. On my next trip I tested them and had one of the best fishing days of my life. I did it, that was it. Time to write my book. It was that easy! I'd been on a high all day from the phenomenal fishing and my achievement of tying the perfect fly that even the rain that started pouring down wasn't bothering me. The following day, I woke up ready to go. The water was cloudy, but it didn't matter because I had already achieved my goal. I did 15 drifts without a single bump. The perfect fly I tied wasn't perfect today. When I got home I went into a frenzy rethinking my designs, double and triple checking proportions and taper. I devised a variation using a black holographic tinsel with stainless steel wire. I did a few more lead wraps and even went to a Tungsten bead. I thought the light coming through the cloudy and deeper water would reflect off the tinsel and catch the fish's eye. On the next trip, the water was high and muddy. I nervously drifted the flash variation, and the fish went for it. I did it again! I designed the perfect fly again. I left on another high! My job was done again. The next trip I took, I was confident. It hadn't rained in weeks, and the water was low and crystal clear. Stoneflies were abundant, and I had two secret weapons. It ended being an OK day, but nowhere near perfect. I left on a low. I again hit the books and hit the vise. I eventually concluded that normal conditions required a more defined fly, the high conditions required a flashy fly, and the low conditions would need a less defined dull version of the other two. I ended up settling on a synthetic gray quill wrap. The gray wrap has bold black in-lines that look like body segments without the definition and texture the first variant had. I'll tell you what, it worked perfectly. I did it again!
During this adventure of developing the perfect fly, I learned a lot. I learned a lot about fish behavior and the anatomy of insects, and I learned a lot about myself. But mainly, I learned the meaning of perfection. The perfect fly does exist. I've come up with many of them. The moments of perfection that exist aren't forever, which makes the search for perfection never-ending. Now, I seek out the small moments of perfection, as short as they can be. Those moments have defined my entire life. What's perfect one day, often has imperfections the next. I've carried this lesson with me in many aspects of my life. As important as this lesson was, it hasn't stopped me from searching for the next perfect fly.
