Saratoga, Wyoming has two thousand souls, eight churches to care for them, four bars, four fly shops, one general store (Shively's Hardware - "If we don't have it, you don't need it"), sixty-four inches of snow per year - and the largest collection of framed salmon flies in the world - The Grainger Collection.

Currently (as of May 1996), the Grainger Collection has 227 flies on display, all hanging in one home. In one hallway alone there are 185 frames hanging - it is a long hallway! Each fly is a classic pattern; each one is different and each one is individually framed. All kinds are included - married wing, mixed wing, Dee, Spey, strip wing, herl wing, topping wing, whole feather wing and grubs. When completed the collection will contain 350 flies.

In the summer of 1992 a gentleman whom I had never met purchased one of my framed salmon flies at a fly shop in Saratoga. A few weeks later he was at a gallery in Livingston, Montana. As he started to leave a fly plate caught his eye (all my flies are in identical frames). Figuring this Nolte must be famous (at the time I had flies hanging in two places - he went to both) he wrote me a letter inquiring as to how many flies I could tie. I replied that, though I had a short list of favorites, I could tie most salmon flies if I had the materials. Days later he called and repeated the question, "how many salmon flies can you tie?" Figuring he was a bit dense I started to repeat what I had written. He interrupted, "No, no, you don't understand. I want one of each." After recovering my composure (and recalling Hardy's list) I blurted, "there are over 350 patterns of salmon flies!" His response: "OK, 350 lobe is fine. I'll take one of each."

Thus, I began tying the Grainger Collection in 1993, delivering the first shipment in April of that year. At six flies per month, completing the collection will take five years. Tying the collection has led to some adventures.

The first challenge was also the first step in fly tying: pick up the hook. Mr. Grainger wanted the flies to be as authentic as materials would allow. This meant using blind-eye hooks. Three hundred and fifty flies precluded obtaining custom hooks. I am not particularly fond of the Partridge CS 6 (Adlington & Hutchinson) - too short in the shank, too heavy in the wire. I am fond of the Partridge CS 10/1 (Bartleet) - but they are eyed. In July of 1992 I wrote Alan Bramley at Partridge in England to ask if he could produce the CS 10/1 with a blind, tapered shank. Any of you who have requested special orders of any hook maker know that the process can take a long time. This time, though, it was different. The prototypes arrived in August, the first working batch in February of 1993. The result was the Partridge CS 10/3, Blind Bartleet.

The next material to go on the hook is thread (no problems there), then, attach the gut loop. Now, I have some gut, but 350 loops worth? And keep in mind throughout this article that the Grainger Collection constitutes less that half of the number of salmon flies I tie each year. So where am I going to get that much gut? If I could find that much gut (BIG if), the expense would be exorbitant. The solution which eventually came was - grow my own. Silkworm eggs and instructions for growing them came from my old friend (and supplier of some great fly tying tools) Carolina Biological Supply. Silkworms (Bombyx mori) are native to tropical climates - warm and moist. Wyoming is, well, cold and dry. The solution was an incubator.

The eggs arrived. The incubator was at 86 degrees and humid. The food was ready - ah, the food. Silkworms eat one thing - Mulberry leaves. Wyoming has (you guessed it) no Mulberry trees. I planted one in the back yard. It met winter in Wyoming, screamed, and died. The answer was synthetic food. A dried, dog biscuit-looking cake (Carolina Biological again). Just add water and silkworm larvae.

The eggs hatch. Transfer the (very small) larvae to the moist food with a paintbrush. Come home from work (back in the days before I was tying salmon flies full time). Look in the incubator. They look cold, I am too. Turn up the heat a bit. Next day, same routine until, of course, I cooked them with kindness!

I tried again. This time with a modicum of success, which means I got a few puny strands of gut. The process was labor intensive and expensive. The cost of the synthetic food meant that each meager strand should have come out platinum plated. With the help of friends and fellow silkworm ranchers who live in warmer climes (Judy Lehmberg, Mark Kirchner and Willie Tamura) I now had some additional gut. It wasn't long before I discovered just how many Golden pheasant crests it was going to take to tie this order. I get five tails and toppings, seven if it's an exceptional head, per crest. Not every crest you order is of the quality naecessary for classic flies. I feel fortunate if half of them are. You do the math. That is 140 Golden pheasant crests. And remember, that is half of want I will need to fill all my orders.

If the Collection is to be uniform the mats and frames must be identical. The manufacturers of mat board and frame molding have the irritating habit of discontinuing just the product you like. So I ordered sufficient mat board and molding to complete the project. Two thousand feet of molding alone! Those who do your own framing can do the math on that one.

I don't do my own framing, by the way. A friend (whom I am doing my best to keep alive until the Collection is complete) cuts the mats and glass, chops and builds the frames. I mount the fly and assemble the components.

There have been other adventures obtaining sufficient materials to complete the Collection, problems you all have. If you have trouble finding enough white turkey tail, peacock secondary, not to mention Florican and Speckled Bustard, to tie the flies you want, consider finding enough for 350 flies. Then double it.

The up side to all this? No, I am not just giving the flies to Mr. Grainger. The adventures obtaining materials were just that - adventures, and fun. Tying so many different patterns has led me to tie flies I never would have otherwise, and with no danger of burnout. I still cannot tie a decent Dee or Spey, but I'm getting better. Which is the real benefit - I'm getting lots of practice.