Category Archives: Fly Pattern

Part 1 – Singlebarbed teaches the fundamentals of fly beauty, and insists you’re catching fishermen mostly

Fly tying is six weeks thinking of nothing but the fish, tying small stuff to smaller stuff, the shock and awe that all insects don’t suck blood or whine in your ear, the majesty of the first fish caught on your own fly, and the amazing riot of colors and animal parts coveted and purchased …

… and then it’s forty years of attempting to make your flies resemble someone else’s – validation not so much duped fish as successful copy of a book photo, or an appreciative comment from a fellow angler.

You start tying flies for fish – and wind up tying flies for fishermen.

It’s not a conscious decision, but aesthetics and beauty are as insidious in fly tying as they are in life.

The industry has always embraced beginners with great fervor, as they’re the source of a great deal of revenue. They need everything and a canny shop owner loves to host a class as it guarantees commerce. Fly fishing clubs love them as well. It’s a great way to be “hale fellows well met”, attract “lurkers” that don’t show for banquets and Beef au Jus’, and co-sponsor them with local shops happy to provide a small discount for students.

… and six weeks later you’re mounting that gleaming new vise to a table wishing you had someone to ask the hundred-thousand questions that occurred since your final lesson …

Magazines, books, and Youtube provide inspiration but spawn more questions than answers, and despite the fellow at the fly shop claiming “Cree” is nearly as good as Grizzly, your unimpugnable sources are gone and you’re left to figure it out … alone.

Intermediate and Advanced classes are few and far between, as there’s no agreement on what techniques or flies belong to either, there’s little retail traffic, and finding a master-instructor that has all the answers and is sober is more difficult in a club setting.

When offered they’re usually a three-part chain; beginner, intermediate, and advanced – and often filled with recent graduates of the beginner class, who’d be better served if they tied 5 or 6 thousand flies before stepping up the complexity.

If you’ve made it past the beginner class and resolved to master fly tying, knowing full well that further precision is largely vanity as the “well chewed fly” and its effectiveness has debunked taut, tight, and pretty…

… I’ve got nine steps for you to master if you want to catch fishermen.

The “Why” of it all

Refining your tying for the critical gaze of other fishermen will make your flies sturdier. All the painful lessons you’re about to learn are lost on fish, fish are stupid, lack artistic sense, and eat cigarette butts.

If you smoked you’d know this.

“Refinement” is a fancy word for discipline. Holding instincts in check and enduring someone else’s artificial sense of style, proportions, and method.

Beginning tiers lament the movement of materials on completed flies, loose tinsels, flopped over tails, and precarious hackle – and are heavy-handed with thread on all subsequent attempts. Reaching inside that glossy plate to give the author’s fly a twist will yield movement too, but it won’t unravel or fall apart – and yours might.

The difference between 30 years of fly tying and a recent initiate is about 8-9 fish. Even the best flies disintegrate and replacement is required.

In its day the flat tinsel body humbled most tiers. It’s not used as much presently but the lesson learned holds true for all wound body materials, doubly so if they’re shiny.

Dubbing bodies allows a tyer to add a little more or take a little off, but yarns and chenille don’t share that quality. They’re a constant diameter that shows every lump and foible of the materials underneath, and completely unforgiving.

Mastery of these materials is simple if you get to watch someone else do it. For chenille, downsize it one size and tie it in at the front and double wrap the body.

A double wrapped body of small chenille is the same size as a single wrap of medium, yet you can add taper, wrap it tighter, and tie it off with less thread than the larger size.

Flat tinsel and floss are identical. Wrap from the front of the fly backwards to the tail then wrap back up the body to the start. You’ll have a gleaming body absent gaps in the tinsel or “bubbles” – where overlapped tinsel pops out of the turn next to it leaving a small area of underbody and thread showing.

A large area to work with doesn’t make the task easier. Large trout streamers with their 6X long hook actually magnifies the floss or tinsel’s effect on the overall fly – as it’s much more visible. Working with floss requires you to cover your fingers as the sweat of your grip will immediately remove the shine or stain light colors.

Lead wire on nymphs and larger flies dictate the look of rest of the fly. A poor choice in placement or the inability to address the obvious lumps of where it starts and stops, cannot be corrected.

On trout nymphs the lead wire is the thorax – giving you a pronounced lump that ends the body and defines the wingcase. It should be positioned on the fly exactly where the thorax will occur – and the number of turns used should be the exact width of your planned thorax area.

…that’s right, planned. Flies don’t wind up with proper proportions by accident, and tail, body, thorax, and head are all mapped in your mind before thread touches the hook.

On larger flies lead wire may cover most of the shank, or it may be larger diameter, and no amount of thread or glue will keep it from rotating. Bind it as best you can and use the tail and body materials to plug the gap between shank and the rearmost end of the lead.

The mistake most make is not leaving enough room for the forward transition at the eye of the hook. All your materials will be spiraling off the lead coils and secured on the much thinner hook shank. Dubbing can be used to hide many sins, but wound materials like ribbing and chenille will always have trouble on that transition.

Positioning the thorax too close to the eye of the hook will yield a crowded eye – and worse – if a couple of turns of hackle need to be wound in that area to complete the fly. If the tie off area is still abrupt in definition hackle will flair outward away from the body due to the bulge – rather than close as it’s intended.

Lead placement dictates everything – including the hackle shape.

If it’s not dry fly hackle then it’s tied in by the tip and folded, then wound.

… and there’s some very good reasons for that unshakable rule …

Hackle is the most fragile component of any fly, dry or wet. The thin tip gripped by your pliers limits the amount of pressure you can use when hackle is wound around the hook shank. Tying in the tip means the stem gets thicker with every turn and you can apply more force when it’s wound palmer up the body – or used as a collar on nymphs and steelhead flies.

… and at the eye – where it’s tied off, the stem is thickest yet, perhaps enough to withstand being barked on a rock on a low backcast or torn off a tree limb on a misguided forward stroke.

The real value is the effect. Hackle fibers get longer as you move towards the butt of the feather. When winding collars with a folded hackle each turn is longer than the last. Longer fibers obscure the shorter fibers of earlier turns – giving the appearance that all the hackle is a perfect cone of exactly the same length.

It’s beauty were after, remember. Sound science is merely an accidental nicety in our quest to catch fishermen.

“Folding” a hackle is the act of tying it in my the tip and running a right angled object (like your scissors) up the stem to break the fiber’s back and make them slant backwards towards the rear of the fly. This process is shown in all the best fly tying books and is instantly recognizable on the fly itself.

Tying in your hackle by the butts and winding a nymph or steelhead fly’s collar will require you to wrap thread backward onto the hackle to get it to lay down, resulting in a ungainly head that’s got hackle color peeking through – and is prone to damage.

Putting it all together

We started with the least important beautification tips, working our way to the most important. Putting items 9, 8, and 7, together – let’s see how we can use them on a standard #6 Silver Hilton.

Silver Hilton 1: Lead Placement and Downsize

Silver Hilton

Do I use 10 turns of 2 amp lead wire or 20 turns of 1 amp?

Downsize: I opted for the smaller size as I could cover the body completely – guaranteeing the lead is uniform over the entire fly. No lumps or transitions to worry about and I squeezed in 5 extra turns of the smaller wire, making it heavier.

Silver Hilton 2: Gap fill

Silver Hilton 2

Lead is secured with three runs of 6/0 Olive thread (chosen so you can see it). It’s not going to prevent a vigorous twist between thumb and forefinger – but neither will 50 runs of thread. Thread is always your enemy, use what’s needed and nothing more.

Gap Fill: The teal tail is tied onto the hook shank leaving a transition I’ll address with subsequent materials. The balance of the tail material is trimmed at the rear of the lead, about a 1/4” of tie down/transition remains.

Silver Hilton 3: Gap Fill

Silver Hilton 3

Gap Fill: The oval silver tinsel follows the tail, tied in exactly the same spot and trimmed identically. The “gap” is slowly closing so the transition will be imperceptible on the body material.

Silver Hilton 4: Downsize and Double wrap

Silver Hilton 4

Downsize & Double Wrap: Rather than medium chenille I’m using fine velvet chenille. Regular chenille is just as good but I prefer the finer grained Vernille (velvet chenille) to regular rayon. It’s tied in front so I can make a double pass of the fly body; the first offers bulk, and the second will be drawn tightly over the first to give a smooth gap-free look.

Silver Hilton 5: Double wrap

Silver Hilton 5

Double Wrap: A nice plush body with a hint of taper, the result of gap fill and the second “finish” wrap of chenille. The second allows me to fill gaps and address contour, resulting in a “fisherman catching” look – and structural integrity.

Silver Hilton 6: Double wrap

Silver Hilton 6

Because of the fly body being a double wrap of chenille, note how the oval tinsel stays on top of the body versus digging into the material and being lost from view. The extra density of two layers means all subsequent materials will not vanish into the “grain” of the wound chenille.

Likely both fish and fishermen can appreciate that …

Silver Hilton 7: Tied in at the tip and folded

Silver Hilton 7

The hackle has been tied in at the tip and folded. I’ve drawn the right angle of my scissors towards me breaking the spine of each fiber and in so doing they’ll point back toward the tail of the fly naturally.

Silver Hilton 8: Folded hackle

Silver Hilton 8

Folded Hackle: The hackling is complete. Note how the hackle lays back over the fly naturally without being coaxed by 65 wraps of thread. In fact, where’d all that thread go?

Because I can “crank down” on the hackle after the first couple of turns, I’ve laid it exactly where I wanted it – covering the thread tie in area we saw in the previous picture. I’m about to start my whip finish and only two turns of thread are visible.

Silver Hilton 9: The final “fisherman catching Sumbitch”

Silver Hilton Final

The completed fly.

Tiny head. No gaps or foibles noticeable – and the eye is clean of cement and feather dander. It is a fisherman catching SOB, and your buddies will compliment you with great sincerity while palming all of them off your bench.

Small things that seem trivial, yet added together can make a huge difference in the way your flies look, last – and how they’re perceived by others. It’s of little consequence when running the fly through a riffle as only fish are a true test of what looks tasty and what doesn’t.

In the meantime, if you’ve just finished your six lessons of beginner class and are feeling your oats, you may want to commit these simple steps to memory.

Next Week: Three more pearls of wisdom as defined by hisself and his questionable wit…

Tags: Silver Hilton, lead wire, tapered fly body, folded hackle, Vernille, velvet chenille, Mustad 36890, teal flank, oval silver tinsel, beginner fly tying class, intermediate fly tying, advanced fly tying, flies that catch fishermen

Book Review – Tying Catskill Style Dry Flies

I’ve always likened the traditional dry fly as the fly fishing equivalent of the Japanese Tea ceremony. You can tie a million of them and the number of times you’re pleased with the result you can count on one hand.

Double-divided quill wings spin our gossamer tippet into a snarl, Woodduck flank is expensive as hell, and we roar past the traditional Catskill dry enroute to something more contemporary and scientific.

The Catskill Cabal; George Labranche, Theodore Gordon, Preston Jennings, Walt & Winnie Dette, Rube Cross, Art Flick, Harry & Elsie Darbee, and Roy Steenrod, were instrumental in the migration of English dry fly theory and adapting chalkstream tactics to moving water. Despite the passage of nearly one hundred years, their influence on the sport continues unabated.

Red Quill, one of many Catskill standards

Mike Valla has written an engaging book on the entire Catskill experience – from his vantage as an “adoptee” of the Dette’s. It’s an interesting and fast read that introduces the rivers – their unique personalities and patrons, the fishermen, and the fly tying brain trust that gave us the traditional patterns we know today.

The book focuses on the development and variations of the traditional Catskill flies, how each was modified, the individual variants popularized by each tier, and how the modern Catskill patterns we tie today evolved from their inception.

“This was the Rube cross who told Walt Dette, in the late 1920’s, to get lost when Dette asked Cross to show him how to tie flies. Walt promised that he would tie only for himself, but Cross would have no part of it.”

“When (Rube) Cross turned down Walt Dette’s request to teach him his tying techniques, Dette purchased $50 worth of flies from Cross, and he, Winnie, and Harry Darbee dismantled them in a rented room above a Roscoe movie theater to learn the Cross technique ..”

“Legends” can be as ornery and cantankerous as the rest of us. Books and autobiographies usually omit personality and character – facets that add a great deal to any legend. In describing Rube Cross’s 1950 work, “The Complete Fly Tier” – where his fly tying style was photographed, its author may have tried to hide his technique from us as well:

“One late summer evening many years ago, while I was at Walt’s side at his vise, he explained what they discovered about the Cross technique: ‘That is not what the unwrapping revealed. When we untied Cross’s flies, he set those wings first, then the tails, then the body, the common sequence that is used today.’ Walt used to give Cross some benefit of the doubt, and stated that maybe Cross changed his technique, but it does seem odd. Winnie, on the other hand, thought the change described in the book deliberate, to hold secret his true technique.”

This “forty-thousand foot view” of the area and its personalities adds a great deal of information not encountered in specific literature, like the interactions of all this talent and their individual foibles.

Considering the materials and techniques of the day, no bobbins, 3/0 silk thread held with clothes pins, the lack of genetic hackle, the paucity of blue dun – a color that permeates Catskill flies, few synthetics, and no domestic supply of fly tying items – most ordered from England, their skill, especially the Dette’s and Rube Cross, is astounding.

The chapter on hackle brought back unwelcome memories from my own youth, as Dun necks were squirreled away in back rooms – reserved for that special customer. Each Catskill tyer eventually developed his own stable of chickens to ensure adequate dun hackle. “Live plucking” the hackle was the norm – the chickens being much too valuable to kill.

We’ve never had to run around in the dark trying to corral wise old roosters who’ve experienced a couple years of scalp pulling…

“Modern fly tiers have access to every possible shade of hackle required for any fly pattern, and the stiff hackle is superior to what we all had to live with years ago. Jack Atherton once traded one of his original paintings, worth thousands of dollars, for a hackle cape that the stiffness and color required for Neversink Skaters; tiers today don’t realize how coveted a good neck was in the early years. One can walk into any good shop and choose from a wide variety of dun shade and be assured that even the lowest grade necks are better than hackle available ten years ago.”

Indian and Chinese capes were the only thing available pre-1980’s. They were serviceable enough for flies #12 and above, but tying #16’s – with hackle less than an inch long, still brings me nightmares.

That attention to detail has propagated itself into the current hackle business, as Harry Darbee’s line of genetic chickens may have served as the initial brood stock for both amateur and commercial alike:

“The Darbee line, as it is called , has also found its way into the flock of numerous backyard breeders like Doc Alan Fried in Livingston Manor. Fried , in turn, continued Darbee’s generosity in sharing eggs, and it was through Doc Fried that Darbee DNA found its way into the Collins and Whiting hackle.” 

For the fly tyer interested in plates, dressings, and authentic patterns, you’ll not be disappointed. Step by step illustrations demonstrate the Dette-trained Valla’s Catskill mastery, and the many variants practiced by each of the above tiers. Many samples of original work are depicted from the author’s collection – and the Catskill Fly Fishing Center and Museum.

Despite the cross-continent geographic gulf, the dissimilarity in watersheds that I fish, and all the advances in synthetics and angling technology, “Catskill” style traditional dries still comprise a dominant role in the fly box. We no longer need to leave the gap behind the eye as the Turle knot has been replaced by the Clinch, but the design and simplicity of this style of dressing will likely survive another hundred years, despite the many who insist it’s outdated.

Great book, with content for both angler and fly tier alike.

(Full Disclosure: The reviewer paid full retail for the book, it’s available from Amazon.com for $32.95)

Tags: Mike Valla, Catskill Fly Fishing Center and Museum, Art Flick, Walt Dette, Rube Cross, Theodore Gordon, Harry Darbee, George LaBranche, Roy Steenrod, Preston Jennings, Tying Catskill Style Dry Flies, Turle knot, the Complete Fly Tier, Catskill angling lore

The Czech Republic lends some sparkle to the mix

In Spring a young man’s thoughts turn to love – and in Fall, us mature types think of love too, how much we’d love it to be cooler…

I’m tired of dusty creeks and the rattle of discarded water bottles blowing in the hot breeze. We’ve endured enough fires, sweltering mornings, and fleeing to the safety of air conditioning before noon.

October usually offers the first real respite from Summer’s heat. After three years of drought and yet another fortnight of blazing days I’m ready for mornings chill and the tinkle of something other than broken glass.

I’m going to will a change in the weather, if only by the flies tied.

Jan Siman's Peacock Dubbing

Jan Siman’s Peacock dubbing showed Friday, which had me scratching my chin. It’s a different cut of Angelina fiber that I’ve not seen before – akin to the the soft crimp but with straight fibers rather than crinkled.

The straight fiber offers a much rougher dubbing than traditional soft crimp Angelina fiber, consistent with the dubbing-brush-rough-combed look of most Czech nymphs. I’ll investigate this style with the vendor to see if there isn’t something new in the offing.

Comparatively speaking, the Peacock dubbing package is about a quarter the size of a traditional pack of dubbed fur – and the declining dollar versus the Euro adds to the $4.25 price burden. Beautiful colors useful for much more than Czech nymphs – but I was caught up in a new yarn, a yen for cooler temperatures, and the Fall Big Bug, the October Caddis.

October Caddis, Czech style

It’s a mixture of new materials; using the lace component of a new trilobal yarn I unearthed, mixed with a gold and brownish-burgundy blended fur and topped with some of the Peacock dubbing.

Tied upside down so the the lace is on top once the fly flips over. The Orange lace extends over the bead and is tied on the opposite side. This gives the gold 4mm bead an orange effect, and dulls the shine quite effectively. You can see the raw gold versus the yarn-draped color in the picture shown below.

A gaggle of Czech

Comb out the underside a bit to offer a hint of leg, and start praying for colder weather and fish with an appetite.

Tags: Jan Siman’s Peacock dubbing, Angelina soft crimp, Angelina fiber, fly tying materials, October Caddis, Czech nymphs, fly tying

Fresh from a town hall debacle, Obama may have been a bit sensitive

The press made short work of our president’s trip to the piney woods. While the political pundits battle each other over details and implications on the national stage –  the question foremost on our lips is, “whose rod, and what fly did he use?”

A relative in the NSA isn’t always a bad thing, especially when I get to SCOOP the entire angling world and reveal the flies the President used – and the current location of the guide that recommended them …

As the papers relayed, President Obama was merely introduced to fly fishing and not a practiced angler. The outfitter supplied most of the flies and included a couple eye catching local variants along with the usual drab Montana lot.

Goldman_Sachs_Fly1

Everything was fine until the President lined a really large fish and while waiting for the water to “cool,” inquired about entomology and how flies represented the various aquatic insects flitting about…

Apparently the Secret Service screened for outright hostiles and Republicans – but missed humorists in their profiling.  The brief dissertation on fly names and entomology earned His Saltiness a double escort to Marine One – with only the President emerging when it touched down near Old Faithful.

The guide is still unaccounted for – but sources tell me that Guantanamo received a shackled prisoner, whose face was shielded by an iron mask. An uncanny resemblance to dumbass, er .. Dumas …

The “Golden Sachs” was sketched on a rumpled napkin, and thrust under my doorway in a plain envelope. A hasty inscription mentioned the President stung two smallish fish before connecting the name with recent events.

201K

Fishing the reduced dressing of the “401K” likely went over with  a thud. I would’ve mentioned its rare hooking capabilities and drawn attention to a local flavor of Lepidoptera with long spindly legs…

… anything to avoid the steely grasp of unsmiling brutes.

What does the most powerful man in the Western Hemisphere wave in anger? Only the most popular rod ever invented, a Shakespeare UglyStik, 8’6” for a #6 line.

But you guessed that one already.

(Full Disclosure: I am a life long Democrat – and completely unapologetic.)

Tags: Obama fishing, President fishes in Montana, Golden Sachs, reduced 401K, Man in the Iron Mask, Alexandre Dumas, Montana outfitter, Shakespeare UglyStik, Secret Service, Marine One, Old Faithful

The National Park designation isn’t going to save them

I’d like to think that the only options were Good, Bad, & Ugly – but past experience suggests there’s the occasional Divine, and a lot of Ridiculous.

I’m headed up North again next week – this time to assault some overly content Rainbow and Brown trout that assume the National Park designation means safety…

I’m facing the traditional lake fare, Calibaetis and Damselflies predominate with all the usual suspects thrown in to confuse the issue. A lot of nymphs cover the traditional mayfly activity, but I’ve got an opportunity to address damsels and test some “no hackle” dry flies – with lake fishing offering a great opportunity to see how they set and how long they’ll float.

Prototypes, scads of them – but I’ll toss out only a teaser just to whet your appetite; it’s Friday and a little mirth sets well with your exodus from work and pursuits that don’t involve ties or bagels.

Brass Gull side view

Lead free for National Park use – Brass balls ensure the fly flops over – while I ignore the hoots and giggles of the unbelievers – kirbed Scud hook to give extra hooking, topped with fur combed through Fritz to dampen the sparkle just enough …

A flock of Gulls

Tail bead is lined with silver to glow, and when I give a yank both head and tail flop – offering just enough movement to motivate that fat Federal hanging off the sunken log …

I used some of Roughfisher’s Peacock cactus chenille for the bottom variant – we’ll lump both under “ridiculous” until their field trial – the Really Good Stuff I can’t photograph – my hand shakes too much from laughing …

The similarities end short of the bailout

Shad flies share similarities with the automobile industry, like cars they have a few features swapped out and a yearly naming convention. Trout fishermen refine flies to catch more fish – and Shad anglers refine their patterns just to tie something different…

Look what they've done to my car… must be something to do with catching 50 or more fish on the same fly in a single day, you’re no longer concerned with selection as much as incorporating new colors or materials to fix weaknesses.

My continual quest for materials has me “cheek to jowl” with something that’s bound to turn 50 into 100 fish, or so I think – and it’s all trundled onto the tying bench to patch together the 2009 variant of whatever was successful last year.

The last couple of decades were ruled by fluorescence, this decade pearlescent is the go-to material.

I’ve banked quite a bit of pearlescent oddities for just this purpose; addressing shortcomings and frailties found on the 2008 version, so the 2009 flavor is sleeker, shinier, and twice as confounding to tie.

Pink has been pure death for the last two years, so I’m sticking with the tried and true –  updating the hackle to bulletproof compliments of Bernat Boa and its indestructible nylon fibers, ribbing the body with ultrafine pearlescent braid – which’ll keep the soft crimp Angelina from being torn to shreds, and upgrading the tail to the heavier crimped Angelina so it’s not missing after the fifth fish.

Shooting heads and heavily weighted flies translate into a truly abusive environment, slippery running lines and cold fingers relax at the wrong moment and it’s a watery bullwhip that highlights all shortcomings in construction – and you’re left reaching for a replacement much sooner than you should.

2009 Peppermint Kestrel 

Last season I went through about 10 dozen flies all told; snags, knots that I should’ve checked but didn’t, broken off fish, and shredded patterns retired just before the bare hook showed.

Figuring friends, friends of friends, and older brothers – I’m thinking 15 dozen ought to get me through this weekend, and partly into next. Those rare days where you’re doing all the catching warrants packing a couple dozen at a time so you can share with the fellows on either side.

Funny how manly Pink can be when the fellow downstream is landing his seventh fish ..

The K-2 of fly tying, a solo ascent on dry fly hackle

It was a comment made by Alex at 40 Rivers to Fish that had me pondering fly tying as a whole. Like all artisans you wake one morning and realize you’ve explored most continents – and wonder is this the pinnacle of the craft, and after years of toil – are there no dragons left to slay?

Two or three hundred years of small hooks and smaller feathers doesn’t leave many Everest’s to climb, and with the few surviving manuscripts of “them as came before”, you never know whether it’s really invention or modification you’re working on.

Most real innovation in fly tying has come from new synthetic materials, rather than technique. Simple items we’ve taken for granted hold a great deal more promise than their older counterparts – and poring over countless synthetic fashion yarns has introduced new worlds for me to conquer.

The Granddaddy of all fly tying mountains has been hackle, and most tiers will admit that the big dollars is invested in their collection of genetic chickens, and the unending desire to accumulate more colors and rarer strains to assist in either floating flies or imitating the terrestrial bug.

So long as that continent remains untamed, there’s plenty of uncharted territory for the tinker tyer.

Despite all the synthetics we’ve grown from test tube, and despite the efforts of thousands of fly tiers attempting to find a substitute, only the Haystack/Comparadun series of Caucci-Natasi has yielded an adequate substitute for hackle. Some may argue that the Swisher-Richards No Hackle was viable – but mallard wings don’t stand up to abuse and once tattered, may be eaten as a caddis emerger versus the fully terrestrial mayfly dun.

Cul Du Canard (CDC) has its legion of followers, but most flies are hybrids – a mixture of CDC and chicken hackle – not the truly hackle-free dry that would free us forever of the genetic chicken.

In response to the larger question, I’d suggest there’s a great deal more real estate for the journeyman fly tyer – but it’s rarified turf, a combination of physical properties and technique, where you’ll have to know the first and invent the other.

I’ve attempted Everest many times, and this year I’ve got working prototypes. Chicken farmers are safe, it’ll take a couple more seasons to figure out the tool I need to tie these blazing fast, but the physical qualities are sound, the materials tough as nails, and all I really need are some hungry and desperate fish to make me feel the effort was warranted.

There’s still plenty of refinement needed in both form and execution, and my Brownline activities don’t offer the ability to test dry fly theory – most hatches are Trico or Caenis and I’m reluctant to fish things I can’t see – hackled or otherwise.

I’ve never seen their likeness anywhere – but that doesn’t mean some canny Victorian fly tyer didn’t get tired of his stringy old roosters and use Red Deer in a similar fashion – the only advantage I have is his work was lost to Time.

Flies float because of combination of surface tension and square footage. Meaning, materials heavier than water can float so long as they occupy enough surface to prevent the fly from sinking. Chicken hackle itself is not lighter than water, neither is the hook, tail, or dubbing.

The hackle above the water provides no flotation, neither does the hackle underwater, so it’s the cross section that occupies enough real estate to resist sinking.

Drop a needle into the water point first and it sinks instantly, lay it on the water lengthwise, carefully, and it’ll float.

The answer to our Everest is to find a substitute material that’ll provide the same cross section as chicken – and if it’s durable and cheap, we’ve got something.

Like the Caucci-Natasi Haystack/Comparadun, I’m exploiting deer hair.

The profile is a parachute dry, which after a couple decades of intensive personal use, I fish more frequently than the traditional Catskill dries popularized over the last century.

The Brownline NoHack, slow water edition 

This is the lightly dressed variant, a Blue Wing Olive in size 16. Dun gray elk hair is tied in as the wing, then bent 180 degrees and flared around the post. Wing length and “hackle” retain traditional proportions. The whip finish is spun around the wing rather than the hook shank, as the wing is the final component of the fly.

I had an idea that I could cut the wing loops and pull down more hackle if the fly was fished in broken water. If it works you’ll be able to adjust the amount of hackle with your nippers.

That and you could sever the wing to make the spinner, leaving a little nub so you can pick it out from all the other naturals in the surface film.

The heavier hackled variant is tied completely differently and is still in the beta phase. I’m hoping to finish a couple dozen for the season Opener, which’ll give me and SMJ something to giggle over while fishing.

 Brownline NoHack PMD freestone flavor

Above is #16 Pale Morning Dun using the “heavier hackle” construction method. I didn’t put too much more hackle on this version, but this style allows me to reduce the wing mass despite the use of more elk hair. Hackle and wing are a single bunch of elk/deer that’s trimmed to produce the final wing shape.

I guess I’d answer 40 River’s comment with something different; you spend a couple decades painfully mastering the craft, and when you look around and see nothing that stimulates you, it’s time to stimulate others, taking the craft one small step past your comfort zone.

For me, the tinkering component is an endless amount of hideous barriers to overcome; chicken hackle a physical obstacle, and angler perception an emotional barrier, both await some fellow not satisfied with a McGinty – and wonders can he make a better bug’s arse with a popsicle stick.

Philoplumes and the shaft after

Lead gray skies offered little hope so I swung by the Little Stinking to see what a week’s changes had wrought. The water was clear enough to fish but still much too high to wade – many tons of gravel have changed the entire streambed and scoured every vestige of weed and bank foliage.

With the vegetation gone the creek looks like a construction site. Barring another downpour it’ll be fishable next week.

I took advantage and banged out all my lingering chores; removing lock plates swollen by the wet and removing enough metal so the bolts once again lined up with door jambs.

The water table is being replenished, which makes the entire Central Valley rise nearly four feet. Naturally you hope your slab foundation rises with it, and every year some small thing winds up needing coaxing.

philoplume With all the pressing chores finished I started working on the Caddis flies. I’d been sidetracked by an “old school” reference to Polly Rosborough – whose fur collared flies reminded me of Jack Gartside’s Sparrow nymph, which suggested Cal Bird’s woven bodies, and the drone of Clint Eastwood Spaghetti Westerns hummed in the background while I rediscovered my attraction to Philoplumes.

Philoplumes (aftershaft feathers) are the little marabou feather attached to each pheasant body feather. They’re largely overlooked but Jack Gartside made great use of them on a lot of his flies, and were popular on the Gimp Nymph back in the 80’s.

 Jack Gartside's Sparrow Nymph (minus the tail)

The Gartside Sparrow uses the philoplume as the collar at the fly’s head. It’s quite delicate but offers considerable movement, and the fly is a tremendous caddis imitation. Tied in a variety of colors, using a similar shade of pheasant body as the hackle.

The original Sparrow has a tail of grizzly marabou which I omit on all but the largest sizes.

I thought I’d finished with the stoneflies, but the “Philo-urge” had me fiddling with a combination of Cal Bird’s techniques. Cal used a copper wire tail support on his steelhead flies which also added breadth to the body for woven materials.

I grabbed a hair collar from Polly, a philoplume from Gartside, and Cal’s tail and woven body to come up with flies destined for my box; it’s “tier’s prerogative” – untested intricate flies that only the creator gets to fish.

 Should we call it a Cal Poly?

It’s not that they’ll catch more fish than anything else – they’re twice as much work as the rest of the box, so in-laws and relatives can just keep their grabby mitts off…

That was when I realized I hadn’t tied any of the patented-death stonefly nymphs that actually work. The orange and black variegated chenille monsters, complete with black rubberlegs. It’s the pattern you pass over enroute to the sexy woven body flies – thinking “if I was a fish, I’d eat those multi-colored sumbitches first.”

Huge mistake.

 The Orange and Black Death

In the fly shop they look like Bluegill flies – when wet the orange turns brown and you’ve got mottled death on your hands.

I sure hope there’s a lot of stonefly activity this Spring, I’ve got an entire box full of shapes and colors and would be sorely put out if the fish wanted to eat the itty-bitty stuff instead.

I’m sure Carp would eat them too, so I’ll find something other than a tree branch to hang these on.

It whispers to me, telling me to do bad things

I stopped fighting it long ago. You’re standing there holding your gal’s purse while she’s swearing in the changing room attempting to make the size she wore in High School make it over the convex of midlife …

Guys have it so easy, “I need a bigger pants size … must be I’m hung better.” Whatever the inner voice whispers, it’s lying to them and dissembling to us.

Good trade.

I get the same voice whispering at me when I’m fondling some gawd-awful material last worn by the Bee-Gee’s, and even then it was questionable.

Roughfisher calls it “Clownshoes” – and I do my best to defend an “artistic challenge” – figuring that was the reaction all them other fly tiers had – and how my pending discovery of an unknown fish weakness for Pink Lame’ is about to change fly fishing forever.

That same voice claims Van Gogh sold nothing early in his career ..

A break in the weather afforded an opportunity to stomp gravel, and I was quick to take advantage – in spite of a month of zero luck. By now the lower river had consumed the piles of goat guts, allowing me to use the bridge access without fainting.

I stuffed the latest 10 “Clownshoe” candidates in an upper pocket and figured I had enough time to roundtrip four miles before them big gray thunderheads drew close.

 The latest clownshoe candidates with skein of yarn in background

I had a couple new yarns from Turkey – and the little voice yammered overtime – I took one look at the rainbow color and polyamide braided mayfly nymphs leapt out of the vice. The above samples are size 14.

Polyamide (a form of nylon) has a sheen that becomes translucent in water. The double eyelash streamers had shown me just how remarkable it looks – so I figured a smaller gauge would lend itself to mayflies and damsel nymphs.

Four miles later I was still wondering – the lower river was lifeless.

The Rusty Orange clownshoe, figure it darkens and is transluscent 

The physics trials went really well, but the fish are nowhere to be found. Tied on the small scud hooks with a 2mm gunmetal bead, the fly flops over nicely and rides hook point up – a requirement for Brownline fishing.

The damp Olive Clownshoe, the material shows its opaque and transparent areas 

The translucent effect is still present, the braided area is opaque and the filaments turn ghost-like when wet. It’s a promising look that we’ll try later, when the fish have decided to eat again.

One ball of yarn and all the colors in the rainbow makes a daunting artistic challenge.

The disco yarn even looked good – but this will have to wait until the next steelhead trip – or Spring, when the good citizens of the Little Stinking abandon all semblance of refinement and eat broken glass …

 The Bee Gee's probably wore this before being stoned by the crowd

It’s another Turkish export, 65% Polyamide and 35% Mylar – and it’s bright enough to make you cringe, just what’s needed to make a big Steelhead hear the little voice that tells him, “Shazam!..”

Just be glad Ma didn’t gift you this sweater for Christmas …

I was thinking durable – how I might singe the end with a lighter just to make sure it didn’t unravel, when a big Sacramento Sucker came upstream at me with “Durable” written on his back..

 He's awful lucky, Osprey's don't normally get just one fistfull

Despite his appearance he was mighty lucky, Osprey don’t usually lose their grip. In his case, his weight tore the talons out taking with it a walnut sized chunk of his back. This fish is about 24″ long – he’ll live.

Finer than human hair, shiny as baby seal, and colors like the peacock

Mother Nature just doesn’t color critters that way. Natural feathers and fibers might have a range of three or four shades from tip to arse, some strident color down the center as in furnace or badger, but the complete color wheel within a six inch length – is an exclusive property of synthetics.

As in the past, I lock into new materials like a pit bull on a postman’s leg, boring you fellows to tears mostly…

 Baby Sunfish

I figure sculptors have the same vision, something in that block of marble says, “Whack away until everyone else sees it.”

This weekend was mostly rain and for unknown reasons maturity got a foothold and I stayed indoors to shake a persistent cough. With nothing better to do I fiddled with the “Fishing Jones” yarn until I had a fast method of removing the center stitched area.

A combination of trimming with scissors and flame to cauterize the edges, makes for fast conversion of the thick band of yarn into two identically colored hackles.

Given the Baby Sunfish above, I think it was worth it.

I’m thinking Steelhead and Shad flies when I see this yarn, Matuka streamers are just a side benefit. All the wild and vibrant hackle colors in an indestructible nylon versus weak chicken feathers is too good to be true.

In direct contrast to the Boa yarn – the center stem of this material is about the same size as a chicken saddle stem, allowing you to pile on the turns of hackle (and colors) with as much gusto as your imagination permits.

The above fly was modeled after the Sunfish I’ve got in the Little Stinking – bright little aggressive SOB’s – with me assuming their eagerness to eat means they’re prey as well as predator.

I’m hoping for a break in the weather Sunday, I just might get to fling this in anger.

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