Saddletramp Bait Co. began as an idea in the winter of 2022 after my father was suddenly diagnosed with lung cancer and put on at-home hospice care.
Born in 1944, he was a trucker for most of his life from an early age until retirement. He trucked before he even had a driver's license (rules weren’t as strict back then). As a teenager, he went away to the service to drive trucks and haul equipment, and then came home after a number of years to, you guessed it, keep driving trucks. He eventually got two Honda Goldwing motorcycles that he rode until unable to do so. Despite being a road cowboy his whole life, my dad was always fascinated by the “real” cowboy lifestyle. He even had his own horse while growing up, named King, that would freely roam his neighborhood and get fed by the town.
In our time talking while he was on hospice, I found out that his old CB radio callsign as a trucker was "Saddle Tramp". This basically means a cowboy who lives a nomadic lifestyle- a rough rider who never stays in one place for too long before hitting the road.
I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I wished he had told me sooner. After hearing this story (and the odd, yet catchy name) I knew that I wanted to honor it and honor him as a person.
I was able to show him the logo and some very early protypes of the molds and baits before his passing on 2/16/23, one day after his 79th birthday.
My father was a selfless soul…the Mr. Fixit of the neighborhood, a carpenter, a gardener, a tinkerer, an amateur farmer, animal lover, genius in his own right, and of course, a fisherman. He lost both parents at an early age, endured a war, two heart surgeries, and lead an unbelievably hard life with nothing but a big smile on his face and love in his heart. I hope that when you're putting one on, whatever it may be, for whatever species, that you think of him, and know he's with you. He'd be smiling ear to ear if he knew you were tying one of these on in his name.
I’m Tom, and I make the goods. My whole shtick is to sell stuff I truly use…baits that are productive for ME and the way I fish, the spots I fish, and what I fish for. Until they earn a place in my boat, they don’t earn a place on this website.
My main goal with this little venture is to keep things more affordable than traditional American musky and pike gear, while hopefully being a little bit more versatile, fun, and outside of the box of the current bait selection.
This essentially all started with an investment of a hundred bucks that I found in the grass at a launch ramp one morning. True story. That kicked ass. Probably the most lucky day of my life. I wanted to do something cool with that hundred bucks instead of just dumping it into my gas tank, so really long story short, here we are. For the not-so-short story, let’s hit rewind.
Like I said, it’s a really long story. I don’t expect everyone to read it. If you do, though, you need to know first and foremost that I didn’t get here on my own. I had the help of many people along the way. Friends, family, strangers, two guys named George…we’ll get there. I’ve since gone back and added people who’ve come along throughout the ride so far. It’s a work in progress.
Before we get into anything, this is Brad, below. Brad is an important guy in this story. He’s a 3D printing beast, unbelievable multispecies fisherman, selfless human being, and… kind of a super genius when it comes to fishing and fishy thinking. We’re lucky to have him around. The fish in his town… maybe they’d have other opinions. Click Brad’s photo (left) to go to his website and see some of the crazy things he does, there and on his social media.
To Brad’s right is a very kind-hearted bearded fella named Dennis Perko from the hills of Virginia. Dennis…well he came along at a later point and he’s one of the absolutely vital characters that I’ve had to come back and add. Dennis is similar to Brad in that he’s a creative genius with all things fishing and fishing lures. He knows a few things, about a few things. Dennis makes a lot of high-end resin swimbaits for his rising brand Perko Lures, and his background is in CNC machining. We became friends somehow through the internet, and eventually, Dennis helped machine the molds that make anything lead-related as you see it today. Click his picture (right) to go to his Instagram, where you can keep up to date with what he’s doing.
Let’s hit rewind again and take it all the way back.
I was born in 1992 in a little town called Jeanette, PA, just outside of Pittsburgh. I grew up right down the road in a little town called Irwin. Think of my area as the dollar-brand Pittsburgh. Kinda like the “real” city…just a little cheaper and a little (a lot) less cool.
Remember the Georges from earlier? Well, from an early age, I was wired to fish; and most thanks here go to the first George. George 1, AKA George Wagoner, was a neighbor I had growing up who I always looked at as a grandfather figure. George is pictured below on the left, a very young me in the middle, and his son, Scott, on the right. Scott also played an integral role in getting me into the outdoors and deserves a ton of credit here. But, George, man…George was my guy.
George was a hunter and a fly fisherman- a precursor to the modern “trout bum”. He was a cigar lover, Bill Dance superfan, dog lover, and had an obsession with all things country western. The first squirrel I ate was at George’s. He bought me my first BB gun (a Red Ryder). He was the one who took my family to the local gun club and the reason my dad signed us up. He was just an absolutely admirable human and a model outdoorsman. While my parents TOOK me and supported my obsession with the outdoors, I blame George for lighting that fire. George had me in the yard fly casting into a hula hoop before I knew how to write my name in cursive. I liked where his head was at.
The funny part is that I never actually got to fish with George, though. Just sitting with him on the couch, talking, watching old fishing tapes, and hearing his stories was more than enough to light the fire in me. He always had this monstrosity of a rainbow trout mounted above his mantle that I’d stare at. I wanted one like that. He kind of created this monster, so it depends on who you ask as to whether we’ll thank George #1/George W. for that.
As time went on and as I grew up a little bit out of bobber and worm phase, I was always fascinated with soft plastics. I grew up when the Senko was just catching on bigtime. I even ate one once just to see what the bass were tasting (true story, sadly).
We would go to the Monroeville Expo Mart for a large fishing and hunting expo in the dead of every PA winter. For size reference, one of its modern-day purposes is to host Comicon. So, imagine Comicon, but ALL things fishing and hunting. All species, all tactics, fish tanks, trout pond, boats, seminars from the heaviest hitters of the late 90’s and early 2000’s. And oh yeah … being a wide-eyed child in the outdoors with no concept of money or financial responsibilities (and having two very loving, very supportive, very patient parents who helped fund those years).
I got James Lindner’s autograph there. Other kids wanted Sammy Sosa’s at the ballpark. I got Lindner at the Expo Mart. Those poor other kids…
It was probably the highlight of my youth. I still vividly remember rifling through the huge bins of rubber baits. I’d be elbow-deep in grubs, worms, craws, and tubes, stuffing mix and match “pay by the pound” bags and wishing the day would never end.
As I aged into my preteens and teens, that’s when the idea of MAKING my own stuff started brewing in the back of my mind. This was still before Youtube, so it was a weird time. I didn’t really know where to start or have anyone to ask. Plus, I lacked the space, resources (aka, a job), patience, time, etc. Insert every excuse here. I didn’t even know what I wanted to make. Something. There’s a time and place for everything, though. It wasn’t the time, or the place. That was obvious.
I just kept on fishing and dreaming of what it would be like to own a “fishing company”. Man, I loved fishing. Still love it. It has always been my escape from the frustrations of the real world, whether that world was school, work, health, or a combination of all.
They say if you love it, let it go, and something about it coming back, yada yada yada. I let it go once in college mainly just to do “college stuff” (study, obviously). Now that college chapter is over, and I’m back to tripping over fishing crap everywhere. I guess that means it did come back to me. Did I mention I love fishing?
I started doing a musky fishing podcast alongside four friends right around COVID, called “The Muskie Hunks”. During this time, we had the privilege of speaking with many talented (and some truly legendary) fisherman and makers. Joe Cermele, Joe Bucher, Mike Nabulsi, Brad…the list goes on and on and on. Every guest told such good stories and seemed so proud of what they made. I don’t want to say I felt left out, but yeah, I kind of felt left out. Everyone made something cool. I didn’t make anything. Toast sometimes. Messes. Wrong turns.
Not to get dark again all of the sudden, but this was right around the same time that my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. Times were tough, mentally and physically. I didn’t really have the time or the mental state to go out for long fishing days. I figured why not…something to keep the hands busy and ease the mind while at home would be good. Something to do at night or when I just wanted to escape without running miles into the river in the middle of the night in search of a fish. Could just go flick on the shop light and make some fishing stuff. I had already cleaned his workshop out for him while he was sick, hoping that would ease some of his stress since the place was an absolute mess. It was now essentially an open area, and with his approval, I told him I’d need to “rent” some space.
With the help of my friends and girlfriend graciously donating pieces of the puzzle (microwaves, cookie sheets, racking, PLASTIC, literally…EVERYTHING), I took the leap. Shoutout to Owen, Ryan, other Chef Ryan, west coast Ryan, Nate, Kayla, everyone who donated pieces of the puzzle or helped to get the operation going during a really hard time for me. You all know who you are.
I started roughly in January of 2023 with one generic mold and one (junk) mini injector. George #2 comes in right about…now.
George #2 (we’ll call him George McMusky, until I can ask if he’s cool with using his real name) sold a small starter kit for soft plastic to one of the other podcast guys, Owen. Plastisol, dyes, colorants, softeners, hardeners, glitters, mold making supplies, the works. Owen thought he’d get into soft plastics. That didn’t happen. The kit he bought from George McMusky eventually ended up in my hands, being used by me, probably a decade after it was bought (and probably also a decade past expiration). So, shout out to George #2, too.
That was enough to get me hooked. Fast forward two months from soft plastics takeoff, and it’s an understatement to say I was down the rabbit hole. Again, similarly to George #1, it kind of depends on who you ask as to whether or not George #2 is a hero or if he created a monster in this tale.
My father did indeed pass in February of 2023 after a short but valiant battle with lung cancer. It was the hardest thing I ever went through. The once woodshop, then modest bait lab began to undergo a complete transformation into a new creative outlet for me where I really began smashing out soft plastics and experimenting with new techniques and ideas. Plus, as I mentioned previously, the shop was my dad’s, so it’s where I definitely feel closest to him.
I spent many late nights in “the lab” as it was dubbed by my friends, just trying to make as many baits as possible, make as many mistakes possible, and learn as many lessons as possible. I felt as though I caught on pretty quickly, but soon got rather bored of making shapes from generic molds available to anyone with a credit card online. I wanted something of my own.
Now, insert Brad Kutmas. Remember Brad from way earlier? Yeah, he rocks. And he’s really good at computers and all things tech. On top of it all, there’s a good chance he can outfish you.
I met Brad online pre-covid, and after becoming long-distance buddies, he was one of our first podcast guests. I figured who better to enlist now than Brad. I can’t sculpt, and I’m the first to admit any areas where I could use help. I needed help. Brad…help.
Don’t get me wrong, I MAKE the baits. My hands are scarred and burnt, and there may or may not be blood/skin/both on your plastics if you look closely enough. But, without Brad, my own shapes and my ideas are not possible. They’re merely ideas, like they always were as a kid. Brad worked tirelessly with me to bring my weird idea(s) to life, by drafting concepts with me via 3D modeling software from hundreds of miles apart. He has added his own artistic touch, fielded dozens of hours of ridiculous messages from me, made revision after revision, put forth his own creative skills and ideas, abused his printers, wasted his filament, and, all he has gotten out of it…are some fishing lures (he insists, really).
So, if you see Brad, buy Brad a beer or ten. And, tell him you appreciate his hard work.
I hope you like your baits, like the story and the mission, catch some fish, and understand this is an ongoing idea and ongoing process. This isn’t something refined and polished over a decade and released once perfect. This is a trial-by-error journey that I dove into head-first, and you’re all invited for the ride. If the plastic is falling apart, if there’s any area for improvement, if everything is perfect, if they’re kicking butt, if they’re doing ANYTHING at all…don’t hesitate to reach out. I want to hear, and I want to make you all some of the coolest, fishiest, cost-friendliest baits of my generation, in honor of my bad ass Dad.