Dad started me fishing when I was about 11. Portland area to start, Eagle Creek in the Gorge, Sandy tribs, then on to Steel in the Trask, Nestucca and finally graduate school on the Deschutes. Bait and hardware, he made rods and spinners; the first "noodle" rods I saw he made from fly rod blanks. I got interested in flyfishing from his stories of a boy in England where his grandfather had a beat on the Nadder, a tributary of the Avon, I believe. I bought a Wright-McGill fly/spin rod then a Fenwick FF857 and never looked back. Took my 1st steelhead on the Nestucca with it and later the Deschutes, SW Washington streams and others. Moved to Alaska and spent 10 years on the Kenai, 1/2 way 'tween the Kenai and Kasilof rivers. Fished the lakes and streams before, after and sometimes during work. Moving to Central California in 1986, I quit fishing and focused on work for several years, Alaska had spoiled me thoroughly. When "The Movie" came out my oldest daughter was about 12 and said to me "I remember when you used to do that and you'd take me out in the canoe on the lake and I want to learn to flyfish". I set the girls up in the pool and made a vague promise about taking them fishing when they could hit the chlorine floater at the other end, about 38'. Well, they both stuck to it and in about 6 weeks I realized I owed these 2 little girls a trip, but had no clue as to where/when. Luckily, I live about 60 miles from Kings Canyon and Sequioa Nat'l Parks and a call to a local FF store was very generous in detail once I'd explained my predicament. The trip was succesful and to this day both girls flyfish when they can and I am eternally grateful. I reignited steelhead fever after a trip north to the Trinity and have been a hopeless addict since. My grandsons are taking it up and last spring I had the pleasure of watching the oldest (11) hook a chrome "B" run Trinity spring steel that kicked his @$$, but he gets it and is insatiable. Hope to put him and his brother on some in the future and expose them to what has been my addiction and my zen. There are too many I owe in this sport, my Dad, kind old farts who passed tips along to a boy, Don McLain of Foster's Tackle in PDX who confirmed steel will rise to awaked fly, don't believe the naysayers and too many others that I can't remember names but will never forget their kindness and patience. But most of all my daughters, who reminded me of the pure fun of a beautiful,wild trout and resurrected the joy of fishing in lovely places.