Most of us anglers are oblivious to what goes on in all those streambed nooks and crannies. We’re content so long as it emerges at dusk and exists in enough numbers to keep fish fat and healthy.

Like the dinosaur – scientists assumed that the biggest were at the top of the food chain and everything smaller ran in fear … until they found a Tyrannosaurus Rex and figured a mid-sized predator with a mean streak may be worse than all those enormous herbivores.

So it is with invertebrates, the Giant Stoneflies of our fast water are benevolent – and the mid-size Golden Stone is the T-Rex of the substrate, driving mayflies to flee in terror as it snacks its way through the elderly and infirm …

… and the Pale Morning Dun is either slow as molasses – or tastier than the rest, as more of them were eaten than any other invertebrate.

Which is oddly consistent with my past haunts. All the rivers famous for PMD hatches like Fall River and Hat Creek were absent significant fast water – and where it existed we’d walk past in favor of a slower stretch downstream.

Naturally I’m using the most rudimentary sampling, the widely recognized “fast water = heavily oxygenated = stoneflies” theory of angling. Which gives us something to ponder. Do we mash stoneflies knowing were saving countless smaller bugs – or do we stay out of the fight?

I’d characterize myself as an indiscriminate masher, as once your wading shoes break the Size 12 or 13 barrier – even the Stoneflies flee screaming.

Interesting to note the document suggests that mayflies can distinguish between the Acroneuria (T-Rex) and Pteronarcys (benevolent Giant Fatty Stonefly), and flee from one yet not from the other.

… and the real question becomes, “ was it the current that caused your feet to slip, or was it a million Infrequens with ropes and pullies – getting you to mash invading stoneflies?”

… the little bastards could well be sentient …

Tags: Ephemerella Infrequens, Acroneuria, Pteronarcys, stonefly, mayfly, cobble warfare, tyrannosaurus rex, dinosaurs, fly fishing humor, Hat Creek, Fall River, wading shoes