"I Tie Because I Need To" How Tony Inda Found Therapy at the Vise
- The Fly Box LLC
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
This feature was written by The Fly Box and published in Casts That Care, our charity-driven fly fishing newsletter.
Casts That Care delivers real stories, deep dives, and the heart of the fly fishing world while donating 50 percent of all subscription fees to a different fishing-related nonprofit each month. Subscribe today and use promo code: Tony15 at checkout for 15% off your first month, and we’ll donate 25% more to our charity of the month For February, those funds will support Her Waters, Inc.
An Accident, A Reset, and a River
For Tony Inda, fly tying did not begin as a creative experiment or a business opportunity.
It began as a lifeline.
Growing up in southeast Wisconsin, Tony spent his younger years snowboarding and skateboarding. Then, as a pedestrian, he was hit by a car. The impact shattered both of his lower legs, fractured his right shoulder, and completely tore his rotator cuff. He spent nearly a month in the hospital, including time in intensive care, followed by a long recovery that set him back physically, mentally, and financially.
Eventually, after rebuilding himself enough to move forward, Tony moved west to Durango, Colorado, something he had wanted to do since he was a kid. Snowboarding was no longer possible. But rivers were.
Tony Inda Fishing
Around 2004 or 2005, he began fly fishing for trout with two mentors who introduced him to the fundamentals: nymphing, streamers, dry flies, and time on excellent local water. Not long after, they sat him down at the vise and taught him to tie Prince nymphs, pheasant tails, and midge patterns. The simple, reliable flies that just work.
Fly fishing entered his life at exactly the right time.
After another setback and additional surgeries, friends Ty Churchwell, Brad Miller, and Guthrie Farr took Tony fishing while he was still in a wheelchair. Those days on the water shifted something permanently.
"I tie because I need to," Tony says. "It’s my therapy."
From Trout Fundamentals to Predator Profiles
Tony’s tying foundation was built on classic trout flies. But it did not stay there.
Before long, he began experimenting with larger streamers for local fisheries that held pike and smallmouth. He studied what established tyers had already figured out, then pushed those techniques in his own direction. Many early attempts failed. He calls them "real Frankenflies." But failure became instruction.
Tony's Flies
Today, after nearly twenty years in Durango, Tony and his wife have returned to northwest Wisconsin to raise their family among the forests and lakes of his childhood. He now lives on a small lake, which gives him something invaluable: immediate feedback.
Whenever the lake is not frozen, he test swims his flies.
If a fly does not move the way he envisioned or fails to track correctly, it goes back to the vise.
Designing for Movement and Simplicity
When Tony sits down to tie now, he is rarely chasing novelty.
"These days, I’m almost always thinking about silhouette, proportions, durability, and movement in the water and where in the water column I want the fly to be most," he explains. "And whenever possible, simplicity."
Tony's Flies
He is not trying to reinvent fly design. He is trying to make something swim better, hold up longer, or perform one specific job more convincingly.
His thinking has shifted away from entomology and toward predator behavior. Instead of asking what is hatching, he asks what triggers a reaction. What forces a fish to commit.
Some of that thinking traces back to his childhood with conventional gear. He often reflects on what he threw as a kid and asks how that action, flash, or presence can be translated into a fly.
He now gravitates heavily toward larger streamers and topwater flies. Pike, bass, and musky demand profile, movement, and confidence. They expose flaws quickly.
The Honesty of Fishing Your Own Flies
Tony fishes almost exclusively his own flies.
There are still purchased or gifted patterns in his boxes, but they rarely get tied on. Fishing what he creates forces honesty.
There is no one else to blame.
Tony Inda Fishing
When asked how he knows a fly is finished, he jokes, "When I get to the eye of the hook."
But the real answer is performance.
If it swims correctly, tracks straight, and feels durable enough to fish hard, it is done. If it does not, that is information. Sometimes that means cutting the fly off shortly after tying it on because the keel is off or the movement is wrong. Sometimes it means salvaging the hook and starting over.
The final test is always the water.
The Humbling Lesson of Deer Hair
Every tyer has a material that demands patience.
For Tony, it is deer hair.
Stacking and spinning hair for poppers and divers has been a humbling process. Packing it tightly. Preventing it from spinning on the shank. Shaping a clean head. The trimming stage remains particularly challenging.
Tony Inda Fishing
And yet, deer hair flies represent something he keeps chasing. They sit at the intersection of art and function. When tied correctly, they push water, create noise, and "absolutely crush fish."
That combination keeps him returning to the stacker and razor.
Refinement Over Quantity
Tony ties mostly for himself and for friends. He rarely ties the same fly twice unless it proves itself or he is running low.
That freedom has kept tying engaging, but it has also clarified his goals.
Looking ahead, he wants refinement.
Tony Inda Fishing
Cleaner builds. Better consistency. Larger profiles that remain as light as possible. Musky fishing, in particular, has humbled him and reminded him how much there is left to learn.
He wants fewer one-off experiments and more proven recipes tied in multiple sizes and weights.
Less freestyle.
More confidence.
A Craft That Came at the Right Time
Tony now lives back in Wisconsin, chasing the fish of his childhood with a fly rod. He hopes to teach his three-month-old son the craft as soon as he can.
Fly tying entered his life during a period of rebuilding. It offered focus when his world felt unstable. It provided measurable progress in thread wraps and trimmed heads. It created quiet when everything else was loud.
For Tony Inda, the vise is not just a bench tool.
It is structure.
It is therapy.
And it is proof that even after the hardest setbacks, you can still build something that moves exactly the way you imagined.
This feature was written by The Fly Box and published in Casts That Care, our charity-driven fly fishing newsletter.
Casts That Care delivers real stories, deep dives, and the heart of the fly fishing world while donating 50 percent of all subscription fees to a different fishing-related nonprofit each month. Subscribe today and use promo code: Tony15 at checkout for 15% off your first month, and we’ll donate 25% more to our charity of the month For February, those funds will support Her Waters, Inc.
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