ABOUT US

A little about Jonathan Busse

Fishing has always been a part of my life. Both sides of my family were big fishing enthusiasts. Not fly fishermen… just simple bait fishers from Indiana searching out whatever would bite (usually the “cottage deluxe,” a 4- inch bluegill.) I was brought up fishing with my father and grandfathers, as fishing was the recreation of choice.

When I was six, my father decided he had enough of fishing at our neighbor’s farm pond and the state park lake up the road. He had the valley below our house cleared and earthwork started to make a lake, which was to be called Lake Whitney, after my younger sister. The spring fed pond further down the valley had already been named “Jon’s Pond,” but I wasn’t upset, for I was to have a lake.

After one year, work was complete and the almost 5 acre lake was filling up. It was stocked with hybrid bluegills, red-ear, crappie, largemouth and catfish. This lake was where I spent every free moment until I left home at the age of 20.

I started making my own lures at about 7 years of age. My first lure was made from Dad’s discarded beer tabs… yes, I was around when beer had pull off tabs! My father received these rather crude fishing lures for his birthday, Father’s Day and Christmas. After he lost the first beer tab spinner I gave him on a big blue gill, I don't think he fished with any of the lures I gave him (I think he mostly saved them.) I received a fly fishing outfit from my Grandfather at around 10 years old. That level line was a great way to start (sarcasm intended here). I lost all the flies that came with the set in trees around the lake and had to figure something else out.

My dad had bought a beginners fly tying kit from the local fly shop, intending to make flies for himself. But he was too ingrained in the bobber to really need many flies. And 90 acres of woodland, horses, a big house heated with wood, and his “real” job left little time for learning to tie flies, anyway. I know he made one fly; it was the first one demonstrated in the book that he bought with the tools and material. I have saved that fly all these years. I look upon it, and never had known my father to be an artist. He couldn’t draw, or paint, though he worked fair in wood. But I look upon that fly and see much there. It is all in proportion. The materials are even and bound smooth. My first flies for months were not even remotely as balanced. Maybe I need to send him back his vise I have had all these years… and encourage him to give it another go.

Determined to tie all my own flies, I took over the little card table in the basement. I trapped and hunted and walked the woods, adding every feather and scrap of material I could find. I was selling flies in school to pay for more materials by the time I was 12. When I was 13 I finally bought my own Fly rod, a Cortland GRF1000 7’ 3/4wt. This rod and I stalked every inch of that lake for years. I caught thousands and thousands of fish…

From that valley in Southern Indiana, I learned more than to fish, I learned the value of a little time on the water. Summer nights at a small campfire on the edge of the lake... the last fall feeding frenzy… ice fishing and skating in the dead of winter... and the joy when the ice receded in the spring and I saw the fish near the shore. My grandfather, father, and I- three generations in a john boat filling 5 gallon buckets full of pan sized bluegills and crappie- contrasting with lots of cold rainy days just me alone, doing more thinking than fishing…

Ten years have passed since I rolled down the gravel driveway with all my possessions in the back of a car, my father in his coveralls, waving goodbye. I now live nearly in the shadows of the Smoky Mountains. I have fallen in love with trout and their environ, and over the past few years I have been inspired in new ways and new directions from the crafting I started over 20 years ago. My flies are much improved and I have made many rods for myself and family. I know the waters and the trout fairly well, good enough to make it a rare day that I get skunked (and well enough to know there is so much more to learn.) I spend most of my time wandering mountain streams in search of wild brookies, rainbows and browns. I have a few favorite streams… but I enjoy the challenge and wonder of exploring new waters.

Silk lines were a natural evolution from the first crude bits of tackle I fashioned from beer tabs 20 years ago. I was amazed that the furled leaders I began making several years ago lasted longer than my fly line. That just didn't seem right! I began to research silk lines and their history. I started attempting to lengthen the leader to 25 feet. Much silk and many attempts later I had a tapered cord that wouldn’t cast; it needed a coating and additional mass. So, much more silk and many attempts later we had a proto-type line. It was stiff, and it was winter. So outside it was really stiff. It cracked. It wouldn’t cast. But I was getting somewhere.

After thousands of yards of silk and countless nights in the basement, I have cast, played and caught many fish on these silk lines. They are completely made by hand. I am still improving production, as lead times are longer than expected due to the difficult nature of hand making these lines. But each one that makes it into a kit and ships out is a supple wonder to behold- it feels alive on your rod. The tether between you and the trout feels less like a line and much more like a mere extension of your hand.

J Busse Fly Fishing Co. was started 25 years ago, when my father first stood in that valley and envisioned a lake that would forge a boy’s life. That vision continues on as I try to capture all these years that nature has provided me with peace, wonder and thrills. Each line for a customer is my attempt to harness and deliver that experience, all those moments- neatly coiled in a small silk bag.

Best wishes, and may we meet on the river…