Having heard horror stories of the addiction of tying flies for fishing, I decided I could only step in with one foot. Fly fishing has become everything I expected, with a lot of amazing memories thrown in.

I really hadn't given much thought to adding tying to the other demands of the sport and somehow escaped for those 20-some-odd years without ever sitting behind a vise. Store-bought and family- and friend-provided patterns have provided enough satisfaction.

Tiers are fond of saying the reward of fishing is greatly enhanced when those special memories are made with flies you tied with your own hands. But it would, and did, take a special kind of fish to get me to play with feathers, goat hair and thread.

If ever there were a fish worthy, even demanding of tying your own flies, it is the steelhead. You could say the same thing about salmon, but there is something magical about steelhead, a sea-run rainbow trout.

So there I was at the cabin with some good friends and fishing buddy father-in-law during our annual steelheading trip to Idaho last week when they decided it was time for me to tie one on.

I didn't hesitate. Larry, my-father-in-law who introduced me to the tradition, set up his vise. All eyes were on me as they debated what my first fly would be. I heard bugger and freight train patterns mentioned, and some wise guy - I'm sure it was Russ - suggested I tie an egg pattern to start with. What a joker.

I settled on a sexy polar shrimp pattern. With Larry, Chris, Russ and Peter all casting experienced and expectant eyes on my work, I set about the project. It was easier than I thought and, here's the scary part, kind of fun. It didn't take long to realize why it was so addicting. I'd had luck with a polar shrimp pattern while fishing for smallmouth bass with Chris back in Virginia last summer, but the steelies would have none of it this day.

As I sat on the bank watching Larry blindcast through a deep slot, I realized that all of the steelhead I've landed, which I can count with my two hands, were caught on flies tied by people I know. I thought that was pretty cool and I decided it was something I would strive for throughout my life: to only catch steelhead on flies tied by myself or friends.

Maybe it is time to take up an offer from a good friend, one of the best (if not the best) tiers in Utah, and take lessons on fly tying. I'll be calling soon, Mickey. If I can figure out a place to set up a vise, that is.

brettp@sltrib.com