Category Archives: Fly Pattern

Your flies didn’t participate in all that holiday food, but they can stand a bit of reducing just the same

With a bit of sun poking through the weather, I’m reminded that fish exist and I’ve got holes aplenty in my fly box from last season. This time it’s the flymphs that took a beating – and it being the self pronounced Second Coming of the Attractors, I’m restocking not the dull and drab – but all the colorful patterns I hid from prying eyes while telling the crowd it was something I’d made from ocher sock yarn …

… which reminded me further of the hellish time I had learning how to reduce a dressing down to just enough to be ate consistently, but not smothering the pattern with too much material.

Starling & Green

The lower left fly is tied with an intact Starling hackle, while the rest of the flies are tied with one side of the feather removed. Four or five strands of starling will give plenty of motion, more just dampens the wiggle as a neighboring strand blocks movement.

prepped_starling_feather

Starling feathers being under two inches long and quite fragile, you’ll need to prepare the feather by removing all the gray fibers off both sides of the stem, before carefully removing all of the right side fibers (if wrapping clockwise, left side if counter-clock) and tying in the feather where the hackle is to be wound.

 

winding_starling

As we only have one side fibered, two turns is just enough to apply a single turn of hackle, perhaps five to seven strands.

The reduced dressings look simple, but often have subtleties that reveal themselves when you’ve got a handful of gossamer and are only partway through a mighty oath.

Both body and head use a bit more fancy threadwork than meets the eye. The bobbin is spun so the thread ties flat like a floss rather than round like thread. Us old guys set store by this quality in the Nymo days of the 70’s, and it still works with 6/0 and 8/0 threads that are not unifilament style. Simply let the bobbin dangle and it will spin flat to remove all twist you’ve added via previous turns. Once it stops spinning the thread will lay flat like floss, until you add more torque by wrapping. Flat thread has less bulk than round thread, so it spreads itself onto the hook like a film versus a tightly wound single strand of material.

It’s a nice effect, the body is uncommon smooth and the head is small and dainty.

Starling & Green

This is a Redditch scale #12 heavy wire hook. That would be a #14 in today’s longer shank hooks. The heavy wire adds enough weight to drag the reduced dressing down to fish in mid column – great for emerging bugs and pre-hatch feeding.

We’ll name it properly once we’ve been introduced

I’ve always fought shy of naming fish, mostly because it can mark the angler as a bully, some small indication that camping on known water might be preferred to something new or unknown.

That’s not the same thing as a pool within feet of some cabin, where the fish are known so well simply due to proximity. Driving a couple of hours to catch “Charles” or “Bob” however, is a bit disquieting  …

… and why are they always masculine names?

It must go back to our playground days, where you kicked Bob’s ass when he reached for your cupcake, or owned Charlie in four square or kick ball. The retelling sounds pretty good, only Bob is about half your size and Charlie was the kid with braces, who was nearly 60 pounds when soaking wet.

Naming a big fish, especially one that’s been hooked and lost is another matter, as both honor and Jihad may be involved …

While pounding gravel last weekend, I noticed a big root ball near the bank, and taking a breather, I got out some oddball experimentals to test their sink rate in the deep pool made by that mass of tree trunk.

There were a couple of six inch largemouth bass that were mildly interested, and while jigging the fly in front of them hoping for a strike, a big piece of tree trunk detached itself and came over to investigate …

It was the Great White Whale hisself, Moby Dick, the biggest smallmouth Bass I’d ever seen on the creek, and while he sat there inspecting what I was twitching, I attempted to remain immobile so I could eyeball the beast without spooking him.

Looking at the size of the fish and his surroundings, I realized that like Ahab, this was going to be a story of lost flies, fruitless courtship, and obsession, and could end badly for both of us.

“Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee. Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool! and since neither can be mine, let me then tow to pieces, while still chasing thee, though tied to thee, thou damned whale! Thus, I give up the spear!”

Moby Dick, Herman Melville

While working this weekend on chores and raiding the local crop of Pomegranates, Walnuts, and Persimmons, I’m thinking about that big bass and what it’s going to take to seduce him.

… or her, a fish that big might even have a zip code. In either case we’ll name it properly once hooked – which by all indications won’t be soon.

A deep root ball with the limbs facing upstream, nearly guaranteeing the fly will snag, an eight foot pool of water with him at the bottom, requiring a cast that’ll have to sink quickly and avoid all the smaller fish on its way to the base of the tree, and the poor angle I have on his position; water too deep to wade, opposite bank impenetrable, and I’ll have to cast the line where the fly lands on my side of the root ball, and the belly will have to land midcurrent.

The physics suggests that root ball will soon become a Christmas tree of my best efforts, with weighted and gaudy visible on every branch.

LSO Frog Style

Knowing this fish has been sent to haunt me, and we may have even met a couple seasons ago with the Little Stinking Olive doing the introductions, I’ll start with what has worked and update it in light of the fish’s size and surroundings.

LSO_Frogstyle

While the original pattern is a known killer, it needs additional weight, a bigger size, and a larger hook. Originally a Crayfish design, I added some frog-like features so it’ll serve double purpose. The above is a weighted #2 hook tied to ride upside down.

With weather in his favor I won’t get too many opportunities before the winter floods, which will likely remove his precious barricade and deposit it many miles downstream. His Whale-ness I’m not worried about, a fish this size is a survivor.

It’s a fly tying makeover, where we cross fingers and hope we’re not watering down genius to the point of ineffectual

At times I think an entirely separate blog is required to cover concepts of fly design, material handling, and methods of attachment.  We’re often focused on visual imitation of the natural that we lose sight of the practical issues of swimming behavior and attitude in the water.

The only thing close to fiddling with someone else’s great idea and making it yours is cooking. You add additional tasty things hoping the sum of all parts is even better … and that’s not always the case.

To mitigate the fervor of inspiration and the wild frenzy it induces, I use three separate processes to adapt someone else’s idea to my fly box and style of fishing.

Combinations and Permutations:  Fiddle with the idea alone, just to see what else it can do, and what else it would be good at …

Optimization: examine the rest of the fly to ensure other materials are matched with the new functionality, or assist its unique quality.

Swim Test: use the fly in a stream, lake, or bathtub, in the same manner it will be fished in the real world.

One or more of the phases will show a bad or impractical modification, a weakness in the materials chosen, or an attitude shift (caused by a material choice or attachment style) that cause the swimming fly to appear different than the natural or phase of the real insect you’re imitating.

In this case I’m still enamored of the bead-chained body from last week. and the feature being the massive weight of the body after attaching 4 – 6 brass beads.

Full Dubbed variant

Here’s an example of the Combination & Permutation phase, the full dubbed variant. I’ve merely topped the mess with a waxed nylon fiber wingcase as a placeholder for whatever I finally decide upon.

It certainly looks good if thrown with an eight weight. I’ve inserted dubbing between every joint in the chain, which extends all the way to the eye (7 full beads). The body remains flexible but is no longer droopy, and the nylon fibers are indestructible so the wingcase choice is actually an Optimization decision.

Seven brass beads mounted on the top of the fly will cause the fly to ride upside down, so the wingcase is mounted underneath the hook as a Swim decision. All that weight means it’ll be hitting every rock, every sunken tree limb and incur a great deal of damage. The nylon wingcase is impervious to impact, so it’s mounted for Swim, with material chosen per an Optimize quality.

Were you to mount the traditional slip of oak turkey as a wingcase, it would probably last about four casts before being broken to pieces. Which might be just fine – as you’ll probably leave this in a sunken tree limb every second cast …

Czech Nymph Style

Here’s the same fly tied in the Czech Nymph style. Beads follow the curvature of the hook and are secured at each joint. I’ve used the same black nylon fiber for the wingcase – but this time it’s distributed all the way around the fly – and the fly’s attitude in the water is now moot.

All Czech nymphs ride upside down, their attitude being a combination of shape of the hook and placement of the lead wire underbody. Its a mystery to me why they aren’t tied upside down,  that waxy and grub-like shellback points at the river bottom and not where the fish can spy it.

In extending the “wingcase” material completely around the hook means I’ve eliminated the top and bottom of the fly, and the fly looks identical from every angle.

All the same rationale explained above applies here. Material choices made for banging on rocks and surviving, fly tied to swim as the real bug might – if it were curled to protect its nuts while tumbling downstream.

I suspect that the steelhead version will retain the brass bead chain, but the trout flavor will be moved to aluminum anodized beads. The properties of bead chain are identical, only the weight will differ – and the aluminum will allow the bug to be cast versus lobbed – and fished only on the short line.

Heavy Metal fly tying, we’ll let the EPA stew on a brass ban

It goes without saying that fishing in Minnesota has been denied me. Roughfisher and I split the entire world of fly tying between us, he gets all the Tungsten in North America, and I can have an occasional dry fly hackle …

… maybe, and only if he gets to pick which one.

In the face of true Genius, I had to risk it all …

Hatches Magazine sent an email featuring some of their latest patterns, and the above Chain Gang Stonefly (by Dean Myers) is to die for …

The fact that it weighs a quarter-pound will only be off-putting to the dry fly contingent, who’ll wish they had a dozen or two when they meet that shadowy plunge pool with the rock overhang. The self-same pool that defies a good drift – because of the speed and direction of current.

I recognize it’s one of those must have flies that offers access to the dark depths where that enormous and cagey 13” lunker calls home, denying the lie to all the 10” pretenders.

I would think the steelhead crowd just went into salivate as well.

Chain_Gang_Espresso_Claret

As I saw it first I’m allowed a bit of artistic license – somber and its steelhead cousin, tied in Espresso-Claret spectral. I simplified the pattern as this is a fly you’ll snag in quantity.

I just want to see Roughfisher eat his cork grip when he sees the gravitational pull of Brass as it blows past his Tungsten enroute to an impact crater in the creek bed.

Some flies you lay eyes on and rush to the vice, this being just the ticket to send the most jaded tier scrambling for colored bead chain. Significant out-of-the-box thinking on the part of Mr. Myers.

Each fly could be a big fish or a new friend

I’ve tried to hold the worst of the excess until you knew me better. Only then could I count on an outpouring of sympathy, versus the clamor of naked greed …

An earlier post referencing a subtle quirk, a brace of delicates for you to view, and exiting on a high note, leaving little trace of the sordid frenzy to follow.

There’s no such thing as a retired commercial tier, there’s only those that still do it – and those that still do it but don’t get paid.

I emptied out my “done during lunch” box to add to those already tied last weekend, and staring at all them Claret & Olive Clods it dawned on me that while I hadn’t detected noticeable change in the before commercial versus the after, I think setting them fingers on automatic might have changed the definition of “enough.”

Considering they’re all a single size and I’ve got three other sizes to replace, I should make plenty of new friends next season.

It’s the same scene with experimentals, unless there’s a fistful available something’s wrong. Which may shed light on why I talk so much of skeins, grosses, pallets and thousands, we both do the same thing, only I consume a bit more.

Something to think about when you mull the idea of defraying the cost of that new rod with a few dozen for the local shop. The next step might be everlasting.

Where we dabble in Dirt and Mud, and rediscover our youthful passions for same

Despite all of the maturity and sophistication of my later years I retain a child’s fascination for dirt. It exists at two levels really, the notion of washing a fishing vest or well seasoned hat being completely repugnant, and a lot of my fly tying revolves around “dirt” and its many colors.

Harken back to those heady watercolor and finger painting episodes of grade school and you’ll remember it as the puddle of all colors; a brownish tinge to whatever else you’d slapped on the paper and the budding Picasso next to you.

Faced with a plethora of hides, yarns, and synthetics, in both drab and riotous colors, the fly tying artist makes “dirt” about every third attempt. It’s a natural tendency when exploring a new medium, and often the “less is more” idiom is learned before something other than dirt colors are the end product.

If chocolate and peanut butter taste good together, let’s add strawberry preserves and yogurt, then some sauerkraut …”

Like all crafts, clean colors lies in the edit rather than the inspiration.

The Secret Dirt Recipe, almost

You nodded vigorously when “Momma” told you to document everything, then ignored this all important chore completely. As that bulging baggy slimmed down and the bodycount of duped fish increased, you found yourself asking, “was it Orange Hare’s Ear I added, or was it Yellow?”

Above is a sample page of my color book, showing the detail needed to make an awesome color a second time, any damn fool can make a great color once …

Samples of each of the materials used are taped to the page, as well as a generous dollop of the final dubbing at top left. I’ve coded the component description in my own unique system, designed to obfuscate and confuse – while the wife may get half the pages, they won’t be worth much without an interpreter.

Snippets of the original materials are included because they won’t always be available. At some point the yarn or one of the furs will be rare or no longer made, and a small snip of the original allows you to search for a replacement with a sample in hand.

It’s a lesson every fly tier learns painfully, some not at all.

As many of the above components are dyed from the original color, the color book allows you to compare with the contents of the dye pot, so you can reproduce a needed shade without guesswork.

Mix more than four colors together in roughly equal amounts, and you’re playing with mud. But “mud” isn’t as bad as those first grade self portraits might’ve seemed …

A Claret and Olive Dirt

The proof being when you get in close. Paint molecules being so much smaller than hair follicles, color loses integrity, while fur still retains the sum of its parts.

Gold Ribbed Olive&Claret Dirt Clod

I can’t shake the feeling there’s something special about a touch of claret or burgundy in any fly. While on paper adding bits of this and that yields a muddy and largely indescribable brown, the finished Gold Ribbed Dirt Clod (Olive & Claret) shows its true self as plenty alluring.

This is one of many tidbits that Andy Puyans and some of his ilk adored. The debut of the AP nymph in Angler magazine had nearly 10 variants of the now standard AP Nymph, two of those featured claret highlights as shown above.

Strain them old eyes further with midges and tiny dries

This winter I’ll be busy restocking tiny and gossamer, as each trip has required both small and unique dry flies. With failing vision it’s not realism that’ll motivate the sizes and patterns needed, it’ll be small yet visible as the requirement.

Both trips North featured few organized hatches, and the evening grab was comprised of a smorgasbord of terrestrial and aquatic insects, some struggling in the surface film, and the rest emerging per schedule.

Ants and midges are my top priority, using Redditch Scale hooks they would be #18 or #20, as I can’t see smaller at distance (Mustad & Tiemco aren’t using the Redditch Scale, so they would be #20 and #22).

Early in the year it was a Mustard-Orange midge that was needed, and this weekend featured a newer variant in Key Lime Pie – which will play havoc with the traditional somber bug colors, but will be fun to tie – and even more fun explaining to the curious …

Mustard Orang Midge

The Mustard-Orange Midge above (Redditch #18) was consistent with the emerging midges, it accounted for all surface casualties.Tied in traditional mayfly-parachute style so it doesn’t disappear in the surface film like more traditional down-wing midge patterns. Dun gray deer hair wing, grizzly hackle and tail, and Singlebarbed’s Yellow Orange dry fly dubbing

… I threw that in just so you’d clutch chest and exclaim, “Crap, I ain’t got none …”

Any dubbing the color of natural orange juice will work fine. Picture the above with a Key Lime body and you’d have the latest variant covered nicely.

I tied half with white wings and half with dun deer hair. The white wing shows better when contrasted against the darker water of evening, and the dun deer hair shows better contrast against light colored water backlit by the sun. Tiny flies and diminishing eyesight means any trick is fair game.

Early in the season the ants were enormous, this weekend they were just as plentiful, only small – in sizes #18 and #20. I struggle with how I’m going to make the smallish-black visible to my old eyes, but it will likely feature a mayfly upwing just so I can pick it out from among the naturals. Ants aren’t graceful in death, nor are wings precisely folded. I should be able to poke something skyward that I can see, without compromising realism.

The Blue Fuzzy Caddis

The top fish getter for Hat Creek was something I’d tied for the brown water. A simple bead headed caddis worm tied in a frosty blue/green, compliments of Berrocco’s Crystal FX yarn, in an odd color called National Velvet.

It’s a multicolor yarn, predominantly blue, that fades into a blue green, then back to light blue.

I’d read that trout lack the cones for blue, so I’d dismissed it as a trout fly, and intended to use it for Carp and Pikeminnow.

When wet the yarn color trends to blue green, which proved irresistible to wild trout.

If the ability to resolve blue is an issue, I would guess the fly was a neutral hue that retained the green elements, coupled with a light halo of transparent mylar fuzz that gives the yarn its signature look.

Berrocco National Velvet yarn That was as much science as I contemplated, as the fish were eating it fast and furiously, and Kelvin was fingering my box for spares.

Berrocco discontinued the yarn in 2007, but you can still purchase it on eBay, there’s five skeins of National Velvet available.

There’s little question this has been a strange year. Intense and prolonged rain upset everything from the tomato harvest to hatch timetables. A lot of the odd insects encountered recently may be hatching early or late compared to last year, which explains why I’ve not seen them before.

With that in mind I’ll not go overboard in stocking up, perhaps a dozen of each color tossed into a single compartment should next year be more of the same.

It’s the wing they’ll eat – all them other parts are inconsequential

The last piece of my stillwater arsenal has to be the dry flies. All are custom patterns I keep tinkering with as shortcomings and frailties become pronounced. The Calibaetis mayfly doesn’t help much as it’s seems to be a different color on every lake it inhabits.

I like to position myself on the side of the lake the wind blows towards – as the emergent adults are content to ride the breeze for great distances – instead of popping off the water immediately like a stream borne insect. The breeze will deliver all that food right to me and in the right bay or shallows the fishing can be spectacular.

For most lake mayflies I’ll toss the classic proportions and make special flies tailored for an extended float. A traditional size 16 will get the wing and hackle of a 15 (sometimes even larger if the lake is known gusty) – as the tall wing is what fish see when cruising for prey.

… and it allows me to pick my fly out from the pack, allowing me the courtesy of setting the hook when it’s eaten – rather than yanking when it’s the natural next to mine … On breezy lakes, the tall wing allows me to maintain visual contact despite the fly dipping into a wave trough – increasing my chances of seeing the strike.

I cast about two thirds less than the average fellow, as once positioned on the windward side I’ll usually find the fish cruising at my feet. As that ever-present breeze blows my “sailboat” back towards me I’ll slowly take up the slack and recast only when the fly is within a rod’s length.

It’s flirting with bait fishing, but that extra breadth of hackle and light dressing allows a greased fly to float forever.

I’ve settled on both brown and a grey bodied flies for the same hatch. One will have a distinct brownish appearance, the other will be tied mostly gray – and as the emergence is midday – there’s ample light to discern color. I’ve given up theorizing or second guessing and just make sure I have a couple dozen of each.

Hair Wing Brown Calibaetis

The nymph is the easiest part; somewhere between a Pheasant Tail, a Gold Ribbed Hare’s Ear, and a Zug Bug is the proper flavor, and like the dry fly it varies a bit each year.

Hen Saddle tip Calibaetis

I like the speckled hen saddle wings as they present the perfect opaque silhouette, and when riding among naturals are nearly indistinguishable. Note the oversized wing and hackle mentioned earlier. Once damp those wings can overpower a traditional hackle and flop the fly on its side. The broad footprint of the oversized hackle stabilizes the fly and ensures it’ll ride upright with wings prominent.

All these unknown experimental made-it-yourself flies comes with a hideous burden, after the fellow next to you inquires and you tell him to “try an Adams” – you’re obliged to hand over a double-fistful, it’s the law.

Tags: Adams, stillwater dry flies, oversized wing, speckled hen saddle, Calibaetis mayfly, parachute flies, hairwing, dyed elk, grizzly hackle, fly tying

When silhouette is no longer enough

It was a bit of an imposition, watching the steady upward march of a horde of damselfly nymphs – and realizing I’d never considered my camouflaged legs part of any textbook underwater migration. Science held me in it’s grip until the first slimy little sucker made it past the neckline of my shirt and insisted on molting somewhere near my navel.

… and they swim like true fish, not awkward or ungainly like other aquatic insects. That elongated body with the three-bladed gill tail is put to good use. And it makes perfect sense that a stillwater insect that swims as gracefully as a minnow would have his gills where the tail should be – as the swimming motion would allow those appendages to slurp all the oxygen needed – even more when flight was necessary.

I liken them to Stoneflies of the Lake, larger than most of the Caddis and Mayflies, yet slender and elongated – giving a fly tyer the opportunity to practice his craft with larger hooks and plenty of shank – versus the minutiae that comprises the balance of a fish’s diet.

I don’t favor the traditional “wooden” long-shank mayfly imitation, as a small tuft of marabou just cannot substitute for the graceful swimming motion so characteristic to this species.

Wiggle Damsel

Instead I’ll opt for the tail and body as a single unit, coupled with a short shank hook to provide just enough room for lead wire and a wingcase. Three or four strands of medium olive with a like amount of brown over the top gives me a couple of colors that are proven tasty.

Most of the damsel nymphs I’ve fished over are dark Olive – but occasionally I’ll find them in brown. I take my cue from the lake bottom and its weeds – as the naturals are tailored to match. Putting both colors in the wing allows you to remove one later by simply tearing the fibers off – a modification you can do on the water.

Motion is the key, especially when faced with the color dampening effects of deep water, where warm starts to dull and the fish measured in pounds cluster.

Tags: Damselfly nymphs, fly fishing in stillwater, lake flies, fly fishing for trout, marabou, baitfish, graceful swimmer, sink tip, short shank hook

Nothing like a inflated backrest to bring happiness to a deflated angler

I’ve flung them, swung them, and twitched them back. I’ve labored over exotic materials, rare colors, and exacting detail – and for all that labor I’ve got squat.

Now I’ve abandoned any pretense of tradition – any thoughts of skill or science, instead I’ll fin myself around the Pristine on a soft inflatable recliner and tow flies into the waiting maw of Them as Would be Fed.

… and if that don’t work, there’s always the California nouveau cuisine luncheon – featuring the caviar Velveeta sand. I’ll let the wind blow me out of visual range and add an obligatory marshmallow indicator.

Friday I’ll be headed North to try some of my favorite lake venues. Streams are shot, rivers are worse, and I’m tired of fishless fishing trips. Maybe a month of dry weather will restore some of the local water to a semblance of their former selves.

I’ve got the traditional lake fare covered. The Calibaetis mayflies – dry and wet, and the generalist flies that resemble most of the other fare. Float tubes and breeze means you’re going to hook as many fish with the fly being towed as being cast – and those searching patterns are lake fishing staples.

Modeled on the J.Fair Wiggle nymph, a proven lake pattern of long standing, featuring a wisp of marabou for a tail and some sparkle chenille with a hackle rib, it’s the fly of choice for twitching over weeds, or simply finning from one side of the impoundment to the other.

Olive Wiggle Tail

These are dressed very lightly compared to a traditional Wooly Bugger or Leech, using just 5-6 strands of marabou and a pencil thin body. I’ve always assumed it was a combination of damselfly and small baitfish – in between asking pals if they could spare another handful.

Brown Wiggle Tail

I tie them in Olive, Black, Peacock, Brown, and the tail is left intentionally long – so you’ll get the occasional short strike. Shortening the tails makes them less effective, so endure.

I use the bead version so I can merely lengthen the leader and fish them with a floating line. In between the morning, midday, evening, mayfly activity I’ll use the lull following to tow these over weedbeds.

The darker colors are perfect for deeper water and sinktip fishing. A slow retrieve to seduce those reticent fish that are busy digesting an early insect snack and don’t expect to see a steak this close to home.

Tags: J Fair Wiggle Nymph, fly fishing stillwater, Wooly Bugger, leech, Calibaetis, lake fishing, trout