SOLD -- ONE OF A KIND

[Outdoor Writer]

This will likely be one of the more unique items I'l be listing here as I go about paring down my accumulated possessions of the last 60 years or so.

This clock was handcrafted and signed by the late Al Ellis, who was a very well known and sought after custom rod maker from the 50s well into the 80s. The flies were hand tied by the late Lon Ellington, who was also noted for that expertise. Each of them was instrumental in the early beginnings of the Arizona Flycasters Club which came into being in 1962. Ellis served as president of the AFC in 1964 and Ellington filled that post in 1977.  I was privileged to call both of these gentlemen a friend over the three decades that I knew them. In replies to this listing, I'll post some interesting tidbits about each of them.

The first AFC banquet was held in a hotel on Central Ave. in downtown Phx in 1970, and that is where I came into possession of this one-of-a-kind item. I attended the gala with my wife and Jim Tallon and his wife. Tallon was the one that had introduced me to Ellis two years earlier, and through him I met Ellington.

The emcee that night was none other than the late Bob Hirsch. The clock was on the agenda to be a raffle item, and when my wife saw it, she immediately said "I want that." Sure enough, when Hirsch drew the ticket for the clock, it matched one of Ellen's. Knowing we're both on a limited lease on life, she has now consented to part with it. Thus, someone here can be the new and proud owner. And yes, it still works just fine. It can stand on its own as shown or can also be hanged on the wall. 

SOLD

I will consider reasonable offers but no trades. Payment via PayPal (buyer doesn't need an acct; just a CC or checking acct.) or cash only. Must be picked up near 67th Ave. & Camelback in Glendale, AZ or shipped at buyer's expense. 

 

[Outdoor Writer]

Lon Ellington is a practical kind of guy. In fact, that's how he got into the fishing-fly-tying business. "I got tired of losing all of these expensive flies," Ellington says. "So, my younger brother and I started tying our own." Ellington parlayed his hobby into a paid gig, hand-tying commercial flies for Phoenix area shops and, eventually, creating custom flies for clients around the globe. In the fly-fishing universe, Ellington is a big deal — a legend, really. The late outdoors writer Bob Hirsch called him "the grandfather of fly-fishing," and illustrator Larry Toschik drew his flies — they carry monikers such as "Grinch," "Arizona Peacock Lady" (Ellington's most popular fly, invented in 1974) and "Lees Ferry Scud" — for the book Outdoors in Arizona. But if you walk into Phoenix Fishing Supply, where Ellington makes his popular flies, you'd likely never know he's someone. "You don't have to look like you stepped out of an Orvis catalog, you know, with all that gear," he says. "I've been fishing for 70 years, and I've never dressed that way. You can't go walking through the middle of the stream like you're killing snakes. You have to stay in the shadows and keep a low profile when you're sneaking up on trout." — Kathy Ritchie

[Outdoor Writer]

This is how Ray Scott of BASS decided to go with Catch-&-Release tournaments. 

Origin of Catch & Release from Sporting Classics:

“I believe it was 1969 when I got a call from a man named Al Ellis who asked if I would speak at a meeting of the Federation of Fly Fishermen in Colorado. He said they’d get me a room, food and take me fishing.

“They called it a river, but you could throw a rock across it. Six or seven of us were lined up with our fly rods and nothing happened for about an hour. All of a sudden on the far end down there, this fella made a sound I’d never heard. A ‘fly fisherman’ sound I suppose. (Chuckle) ‘Yeehah! ‘ or something like that.

“Everybody dropped their poles to go watch him fight this fish. After a minute he pulled his net off the back of his waders and scooped this fish up. I promise you, that fish might have been ten, eleven inches long. Looked like a big cigar. I’d never seen such a ceremony in all my life. He took some little pliers from his vest and removed the fly. And all these guys are standing around watching him.

“Then he took the trout and put it back in the water, and it swam out of his hand like a flash. I saw six grown men having absolute fits when he released that fish. High fives the whole deal. I’m thinking to myself, ‘Lord God, if they have such a thrill out of that tiny little trout, I wonder what they’d do with a five- or ten-pound bass. That was the moment I had the idea to go back home and find a way to start saving all these fish we’d been killing.”

Later that year, at a tournament at Table Rock Lake in Arkansas, Scott addressed 130 or so members of the bass fishing tournament trail.

“Boys, I want y’all to listen to me. During these tournaments we are killing too many fish. At our next tournament this coming March, I want y’all to make an effort to keep these fish alive.”

There were no built-in “live wells,” so a fisherman had to use his imagination – usually a big cooler and a coffee can to continually refresh it with oxygenated water.

“After the tournament, I wrote them all a letter thanking them for their efforts,” Scott recalls. “I told them that at the next tournament, for every fish that lives and can swim off, I would give them a one-ounce credit on their score. Well, you’d think I’d given them a hundred-dollar bill. It really caught on and the whole catch-and-release tournament really was born. Heck, we have people fishing in tournaments now who’ve never killed a bass.”

Shortly after catch-and-release took hold, Scott got together with the Ranger Boat Company to create the first built-in live wells. Today, Scott estimates that the tournaments are releasing well over 95 percent of the bass caught.

[Outdoor Writer]

Another version of the C&R story from Ray Scott:

In the summer of 1971 I was invited to speak to the Outdoor Writers Association of America at a function in Pensacola, Fla. In the group was a fly-tier named Al Ellis from Phoenix, Ariz. who listened to my remarks on the conservation efforts by B.A.S.S. to "Peg Polluters" and clean up our waters.

Ellis, as a member of the Federation of Fly Fishermen, invited me to the FFF's Colorado conclave to serve as master of ceremonies. Truthfully, I didn't know a tippet from third base, but I agreed to attend. Not being a fly-fishing expert, I made like a Don Rickles of bassin' and poked fun at the fly-fishing crowd. Their fancy clothes. The little fluffs of sheep skin on their many-pocketed vests. The full-length rubber booties.

These were serious fly fishermen. Names like Lefty Kreh, Jack Hemingway, Gardner Grant, Leon Chandler and other legends of the long-rod sport. The sum of my experience with a fly rod was throwing poppin' bugs for a few largemouth bass and stump-knockin' bluegill. So it was with curious interest that I watched the six fly casters work along a small stream on a field trip outing.

Everybody was dressed in their funny garb and casting about 20 yards apart along the tiny stream. Then downstream a report sounded -- "Fish on!" -- and everyone stopped casting to watch the action.

The trout was no more than 12-inches long, but you wouldn't believe the excitement. From somewhere the guy produced a net. He dipped the fish, pulled a little tool from the vest, carefully unhooked the trout, and very, very gently released it.

Let me tell you: All those fly fishermen went into orbit. They were cheering and high-fiving each other, all over the release of a puny little trout.

The next day on the flight home, I let my brain whirl. If those fly guys can get so turned on by releasing a piddlin' little trout, how would a bunch of hairy-legged bass fishermen act over letting go a 5-pound largemouth? But making it happen was another question.
 

[trophymountman]

Pm sent 

[DUG]

Brings back memories seeing Lon Ellington. He was the brother of my wife's Grandma Peggy. I was lucky enough to meet him at a couple family gatherings. My wife still has the antelope hair mouse he tied just for her. We called him Uncle Bud.

[Tres]

That is pretty cool. 

[biglakejake]

I knew Lon as a kid before I had my drivers license.  He had a fly box at my first job in Jim's bait on apache trail in east mesa.  over the decades i bumped into him many times at Big Lake, Greer and Hon-dah-even once at rim resort in forest lakes.  if you saw a flybox on the counter it was most always Lon's.

I had Lon re-wrap my favorite jig rod-a 1984 Fenwick Pacificstick- in 2005-the last rod I have had wrapped.  Lon even had my wrap colors in stock.

lee

[Outdoor Writer]

14 hours ago, trophymountman said:

Pm sent 

Got it, and you bought it. Thanks.

[Outdoor Writer]

SOLD

[Outdoor Writer]

10 hours ago, biglakejake said:

I knew Lon as a kid before I had my drivers license.  He had a fly box at my first job in Jim's bait on apache trail in east mesa.  over the decades i bumped into him many times at Big Lake, Greer and Hon-dah-even once at rim resort in forest lakes.  if you saw a flybox on the counter it was most always Lon's.

I had Lon re-wrap my favorite jig rod-a 1984 Fenwick Pacificstick- in 2005-the last rod I have had wrapped.  Lon even had my wrap colors in stock.

lee

I don't think I ever bought another fly after I met him. Somewhere in my closet with the oodles of other fishing gear and lures is a box of trout flies, most of which were tied by Lon. In a another smaller box is an assortment of tarpon and bonefish flies that he tied for me when I made my first trek to the Fl Keys in the 1980s.