Category Archives: Fly Tying

Possession, tunnel vision, and cheapskate, all the trappings of greatness

Most of you swore next season would see you with fly boxes bulging – and absolutely nothing has been accomplished despite the mighty oaths to the contrary.

I’ve always used the Exorcist model of offseason restock – wherein book or article induced “possessions” fight over my immortal soul, and the result is one less agonizing chore.

The last two were induced by Reed Curry and the Czech Nymphing tome. Reed’s stimulus I’ve not yet shown as I’m in no mood to be laughed at – and while some of Czech patterns have been revealed, it’s some of the materials that caused my jaw to grow stern …

Scud Back or Magic Shrimp Skin is a material that costs ungodly coin, and simply needs to have its source identified before I can sleep nights. Small packs costing $5 or $10 are the bane of fly tying – and while I substitute vinyl sandwich bags freely – I’m still tormented by the search.

The material is a 2 mil vinyl tape (or sheet) that is quite stretchy, semi transparent, and possesses a gloss finish on one side and dull on the other.

Permanent felt pens and a Glad sandwich bag are my favorite substitute – just sneak into the mail room and use their paper cutter to make all the strips you need for less than penny…

Sandwich bags are about 2 mil thick, and the larger Zip Loc flavors are about 3 mil, either works wonderfully.

Teflon tape (for wrapping plumbing pipe threads) works elegantly, but it’s a might slippery and comes only in white.

Construction flagging tape is 2 mil and has all the florescent colors. It’s the tape tied to the surveyor stakes – and depending on roll size and width it’s about $2 for a couple hundred feet. It also has no adhesive backing – which is a plus…

2 mil flagging tape for surveyors

Vinyl tape is mostly solid colors (link is to 6 mil to show colors) – but transparent solids are available. Sold in many thicknesses it’s available in 2 mil and used to mark electrical wires, adorn hula hoops, and a wide variety of other uses. The adhesive can be removed with toluene or alcohol (depends on the type of adhesive used) and yields shiny on one side and dull on the reverse.

Available in sizes from 1/16” to 3” wide. It may be best suited as the strips only need to be about two inches long for a completed fly. A wide tape would allow you to cut each strip across the tape rather than lengthwise and

Electrician’s tape comes in a dozen colors besides black, and while mostly sold in 7 mil, other sizes are available. It works admirably as a Czech nymph carapace, as will the transparent Kapton tape – used to insulate circuit boards from solder.

Shad_Hydropsyche

Most of these tapes are made for outdoor use and are UV treated to resist the effects of sunlight. Magic Shrimp Foil and their ilk strike me as having the same issue as latex, a one season fly. Open your box the following winter to find the material cracked and in little pieces.

Above is florescent pink surveyor’s tape tied as a large caddis pupa. You’ll be giggling no doubt – but once Shad season starts in earnest it may dawn on you that the Czech style may be used for something other than trout …

… it’s all part of the Exorcist method, get possessed then tie everything that way including dry flies …

I may run this through the American to see what them steelhead think …

Tags: flagging tape, Czech nymph, cheapskate, magic shrimp skin, scud back, vinyl tape, fly tying materials, glad sandwich bags,

Secret Flies of the Czech and Slovak Fly-Tiers, an encyclopedia of Czech Nymphing patterns

There’s little doubt I prefer the technical references to the feel-good fly fishing memoir, both have their proper place, but when I reach for text I want a question answered, skills increased, or broader knowledge of an unfamiliar yet burgeoning subject.

Secret_flies_ofCzech

Czech nymphing has  fascinated me for a variety of reasons. It’s the “Cinderella” story mostly; small team emerges to dominate traditional fly fishing competition, remains virtually unbeatable in successive years, and the rest of the angling planet alternately “pooh-pooh’s” their meat oriented fishing style, while desperately begging for similar tackle from domestic makers.

Despite their monopoly of the long light rod, the resurgence of the multiple fly rig, coiled Stren indicators, and 24-30 foot leaders, scud hooks, and the preformed lead inlay – what sets the Czech nymph apart from most fly styles is their elegant blend of color and precise imitation.

Quite simply, they have incorporated the finer elements of attractors, yet have retained the shape and styles consistent with our modern realistic imitations.

… and as a reformed whore former commercial fly tier, tying many hundreds of drab dull flies can be onerous. A hint of sparkle or color is just enough to make that chair less hard ….

“Secret Flies of the Czech and Slovak Fly-Tiers” is a pattern encyclopedia featuring twenty one current or former Czech competitors and nearly 350 of their favorite flies.  There is very little preamble and almost no text. Each tier gives a brief explanation of past accomplishments on the World stage, and presents a dozen or more of his favorite flies. Both the patterns and text are in Czech – which is translated into English as a footnote to each pattern.

It’s the largest single compendium of Czech patterns that I’ve seen to date, and provides a glimpse of enough Caddis nymphs, wet flies, and streamers, for you to realize those elements common to all the featured flies.

Like color. Neither Rhycophilia nor Brachycentrus feature a tricolor abdomen highlighted by orange seal, but you’d still welcome a couple dozen in your fly box.

Many countries have a long history of colorful attractor flies, gradually slipping from prominence due to gleaming newer flies and the synthetics they contain. Scientific angling still holds sway, and colors our perception of what’s fishy and what’s not.

… and while we fiddle with knotted legs and precision, some Eastern Bloc kindred spirit adds a dab of maroon seal to his Olive Caddis and eats our competitive lunch …

Czech patterns and fishing style is slowly entering our mainstream arsenal, almost like Spey rods – which we held at arm’s length for a couple hundred years, then claim we invented them …

But the typical Czech nymph tied by American fly tier’s is missing the delicate profile of the european original. As many of the featured flies in the book portray, the authentic flies feature a double-tapered body – lightly tapered body, thick middle, and tapered front. It’s a trifling detail for most, but lends itself to a couple fortnights of inspired tying – especially for those fellows willing to order the book from Europe to learn more …

 Milo Janus's Green Bobesh

The above photo shows a representative fly pattern, its translation, and scant narrative. 

While the photographs are detailed and quite excellent, this book is for an accomplished tier – one that can reproduce the pattern from a glimpse of a single photo …

… AND … knows enough of European materials (both hooks and synthetics) to make the appropriate substitution. Unfortunately, Wapsi and Umpqua are only known to the US, and many common synthetics like the vinyl/latex back may have a different vendor and therefore a different vended name for their product.

They’ll be cited in the translation but you may have to do a little leg work to verify your pet flavor of vinyl is appropriate.

Most of the hooks referenced are Skalka, Knapek, and Maruto. You can substitute similar hooks if you’re familiar with those makers and their models. US vendors like the Blue Quill Angler carry both the Skalka and Knapek competition hooks – and they’re not cheap.

All of these materials can be purchased at Czechnymph.com which was the source of the book, as I could not find it available anywhere in the United States.

In short, an advanced fly tying pattern encyclopedia – absent fishing techniques or step by step illustrations, requiring significant knowledge on the part of the reader – and containing about 350 patterns of Czech-Slovak origin.

As I’ve seen few Czech nymphing books contain this many patterns, I’d think it would be considered singular in that respect.

Full Disclosure: I paid 779.3 CZK for the book, with shipping it was about $42 retail. (changes in world currency are daily)

Tags: Czechnymph.com, Milo Janus, Skalka hooks, Knapek hooks, Maruto hooks, Blue Quill Angler, Secret Flies of the Czech and Slovak Fly-Tiers, fly tying pattern reference, Czech nymphing, Caddis

The Dyna-King cement reservoir, it’s either that or enduring a bikini wax

It’s unfamiliar ground for a fellow that shops with coupons, but after suffering another glue-based indignity, it was time to plow some dollars into the problem.

Head cement. Thinned to penetrate, odiferous, and requiring equally caustic thinners to remove  from things it wasn’t meant to glue …

… because eventually you’ll get cocky. Coaxing a feather to remain in a certain position, you uncork the cement to lay in a generous dollop, using the tingle of “spider-sense” to replace the stopper.

It’s not so bad when the entire bottle empties into your crotch. It’s mostly room temperature and your careful thinning is rewarded by an even saturation of the pants enroute to a better bond with those sensitive areas below.

No sudden chill or shock to the system, no nerve ending screaming in torture – all that comes later when you’re attempting to separate undergarments from everything nearby …

… all of which are hairy and sensitive.

It’s job induced peril. If you tie this will happen. You will regret it.

Dynaking Cement After the top two layers of skin return, I’ll be in a better mood – in the meantime I’ll marvel at my gleaming technological cement reservoir (and the hole it left in my pocketbook) – and consider its purchase cheap.

It’s a Dyna-King cement reservoir, and has lifetime written all over it.

Milled from a single block of Aluminum it’s weighty enough to avoid tipping over, holds about half a bottle of cement, and has an “O-ring” seal on the bodkin to prevent leaks or air penetration.

The cost is $39.95, which is steep – but after I bench tested the shape with my hammy hands, I’m positive that I won’t be able to tip the cement jug with a careless or hurried move.

The reservoir ready for filling

The picture at right shows the reservoir ready for filling. Grease has been applied to the thread to prevent cement from penetrating into the threads and sealing the unit.

They suggest periodically replenishing the barrier with petroleum jelly or light grease.

The below picture describes its intended use. The loaded bodkin is pulled from the top assembly and returned for refill or until its next use.

The O-ring provides the tension for removal and replacement and ensures an airtight seal when the bodkin is in place.

Bodkin removed for application of cement

This is one of those niggling long term issues that’s not enough of a problem to warrant an immediate fix, and just enough of a disaster that you curse yourself for not addressing sooner.

I’ve used a variety of hollowed out wooden blocks that were eventually pressed into a multi purpose role. Great for drying flies – but to avoid clippings raining down onto fresh cement, the tendency was to move the block further away.

Guaranteeing you’ll slurp cement on the desk surface as the loaded bodkin traveled between reservoir and fly.

Getting the container too close meant banging it while spiraling a long segment of chenille or hackle – which was just as bad.

The Dyna-King cement reservoir is about 3/8” shorter than the glass bottle flavor, and quite a bit heavier than wood. It may survive close to the vise base without discharging the contents accidentally. The tension on the O-ring is sufficient to hold the bodkin firmly in place when upended, and you can knock over the entire assembly with bodkin in place without a spill.

… which may buy me enough time to regrow some hair, and allow the swelling from the mixture of toluene and pumice to subside a bit.

Full Disclosure:  I paid full retail for the device.

Tags: Dyna-King cement reservoir, toluene, head cement, lacquer, bodkin, fly tying misery, The Fly Shop, fly tying tools

Like a Royal Coachman only with a yellow body …

Some aspiring beginner announces on a forum that he’s invented a new fly, asking for comments on the quality of construction and the style used.

… which brings the Wrath of The Horribly Offended onto his narrow shoulders. The first half dozen comments point out someone else’s fly his resembles, albeit minus the red tail, and then all original thought is ignored as various fanbois attribute the tie to their respective Sensei.

In the meantime the next great fly tier backpedals back into anonymity swearing never to show his work again.

Ours isn’t the only sport where the word “invention” is four letters. Perhaps variation or derivation is more appropriate – but with 200 plus years of fly tying already behind us has anyone really invented anything in the last 50 years?

Of course they have, only we have trouble admitting it.

Discounting the new flies that arrive with each synthetic, most of the natural materials like fur and feathers are well known and documented. We’ve wrapped, clumped, bound, spiraled, tamped, straightened, and parachuted most everything already.

Fly patterns have this enormous gulf of Gray, with rabid partisans perched on every outcropping just waiting to tee off on the unwary. Us well intentioned tiers duck and evade the unguarded phrase containing “new” or “invented” – and are reminded how easy it is to lift the lid off Hell Incarnate.

I figure there are three basic issues within the larger question of “new”, and these revolve around colors, styles, and method.

Changing the tail on a Black Gnat from black to chartreuse will rarely work up much emotion. With only the single change, it’s a variant of the Black Gnat, and should be named similarly. “Bob’s Black Gnat” is appropriate, as is “Yellow-tailed Black Gnat.” The issue is straightforward – do you wish to pay homage to the original, or do you wish fame everlasting?

As with all vanity, it’s an individual thing – and is probably the source of the foment when the issue raises itself in the media. In the most virulent posts – and ensuing comments – affixing your name to an existing variation is unworthy, even if you made the fly better.

… but if you’re already famous it’s okay, as witnessed by the Royal Coachman and its derivative the Royal Wulff.

Variations caused by style are similar. No one raises an eyebrow at a Parachute Adams – unless it’s introduced as Bob’s Killer Bug. Fingers start pointing, flames erupt and in the blink of an eye – the forum thread is in shambles, with the incensed participants labeling each other with even better names …

Fly tying styles have always incorporated the traditional patterns, as they’re already the product of many years of tinkering and refinement.

We don’t like to think in those terms, how the original fly may have been slightly different and bore a different name – but history is written by the victor, and the venerable Adams may have originated as Finkle’s Wilson, until some SOB added grizzly wings …

… and was vilified by anglers when he dared rename it.

Which neatly explains how difficult it is to trace the original recipe on the timeless patterns of yesterday, likely each author took the variant he fished as gospel.

Style can be incurred by materials as well as tying method. Polypropylene made us retie everything, and we gleefully discarded muskrat, fox belly, and beaver bodies … until we learned Poly fur was coarse, unforgiving, and didn’t float much better than our old fur. That didn’t stop us from putting “Poly” in front half the old standby’s, but as the material proved a false prophet the renaming ceased once it became less popular.

Bead head flies are another example of how a functional style begats variation. Somehow the addition of a heavy bead didn’t warrant renaming the Prince nymph, and we merely added “bead head” to distinguish the functional change.

We’ve seen numerous styles in the last 50 years, most have occurred since we mastered the petroleum polymers, like Nylon, Banlon, Antron, and Z-lon – and the countless synthetics that have been adapted from carpet fibers and the upholstery trade.

We’ve replaced chicken fibers with Microfibbets, wings with Polypropylene or Z-lon, swapped fur dubbing for Antron carpet blends, and did away with hackle entirely – or tried to … We’ve endured the Yorkshire Flybody hook, Swedish dry flies, thorax duns, Waterwalkers, No Hackles, and dozens of different surface film flavors that only young eyes can see.

We’re so busy attempting to replace the Catskill dry and standard nymph, that our failure to find a glossy synthetic equivalent may play a part of the angst displayed when policing derivations and variants.

Structural method also spawns flies as new. Advances in hook design or the debut of a lightweight gossamer can spawn new styles of tying the older flies, and inspire much creativity.

Parachute flies are a great example. Most contain the identical ingredients of the traditional fly, and like bead heads we’ve added “parachute” to the name with little fanfare and no resistance.

… and it’s only because the Czech’s have been consistently eating our competitive lunch that we haven’t complained of their adaptation of a scud style (hook and style) into a bonafide Czech Nymph.

… like Kaiser Soze – we’re terrified of angering them.

Fly tiers have always approached invention with trepidation. Our first halting steps were necessity rather than genius, and added a taint not soon forgotten.

A new tier usually takes the glossy plates of books and magazines as his first muse. Consumed with creativity he’ll often overlook materials in the original recipe that he’s missing. With the fly two-thirds complete another four letter word, substitution, rears its ugly head.

Even if a Light Cahill is completed with Green hackle tips for wings he’ll view it as a failed attempt, as it’s not the original pattern. Months later when he’s more comfortable with skills and patterns he makes a minor modification, perhaps to customize it for his watershed or local insects, and we chew his ass for blasphemy.

A strange dichotomy, on the one hand we’re intent on discarding the old, and are incensed by anything new derived of their tradition.

The Royal Coachman Nymph, I invented it The Royal Coachman Nymph, and I invented it

Later in a fly tier’s career it’s all about experimentals and variations of derivatives. After many years fishing you realize that traditional patterns are merely flies that have become popular, not that they’re better than everything else.

But all those test cases and oddballs are kept close to the vest. Metered out to strangers on the creek when you’re lucky enough to have something that’s better than most that afternoon, and the rest given a trial and buried into an overhanging tree limb or sunken log.

… and while the forum dwellers snarl at each other from the safety of their computer, attributing whatever appears as something their favorite author or fishing buddy tied first, half of them don’t tie at all – and the other half don’t tie well … which is most of the reason they’re not offering their flies for commentary.

Is it a new fly worthy of a name, whose pedigree can be traced to its originator? Usually not. Mostly they’re copies of copies whose original dressings were guessed at – contained frequent substitutions, which were fortunate enough to have their name and recipe contained in an early tome on fly fishing.

… and if its description involves naming a classic fly, then it’s a derivation regardless of what you call it.

Tags: fly tying, naming flies, Yorkshire flybody hook, Partridge hook company, Catskill dry, traditional fly patterns, fly fishing forums, Light Cahill, Royal Wulff, parachute flies, bead head, Czech nymphs

There’s always some fellow that wants to paint outside the lines

Hot Orange isn’t high on the list of trout colors, so it’s only natural you suspect I’m up to something gaudy. Not the case, us Impressionists are freed of the narrow confines of caddis larvae and Giant Stone dry flies and recognize Orange isn’t really Orange if you don’t want it to be …

I’m still smarting from the “Polyester Sink Strainer” episode, wherein I subjected the kitchen to hideous odors and obscene colors, just to garner a couple of new halo colors to try.

Being a fan of the “Chaos Theory” of fly coloration, and believing that Mother Nature’s bugs are never a uniform coloration – and there’s always an inherent mottle effect besides the very obvious color difference between belly and back.

Angling books love to describe the “ … mayfly tumbling in the current” representation of nymphing, which I don’t subscribe to either. Throw a cat off the garage roof and he lands on his feet, ditto for dogs and in-laws, so invertebrates likely tumble briefly to regain balance, then swim like hell for safety, or the surface.

Colors can dampen as well as provide highlight or halo effects. My earlier example of adding neutral gray squirrel to yarn blends shows the “dampening” effect of gray, how it can take the bright edge off of the yarn dander and make it an earth tone of the original.

Highlights and halos are often wildly different colors added to dubbing to offer a flash or hint of color to the fly. A bit of boldness on the choice of accent can yield some surprising effects.

Like Hot Orange becoming muted and obvious and all at the same time.

An example of highlights or halo dubbing

Above are two examples of marrying odd colors together to seem much less so. Black and Hot Orange Angelina, and Black mixed with the Grannom Green. (Original colors shown here)

The bright portion of both has been overwhelmed by the surrounding black, and Hot Orange is now coppery colored, and most of the green has vanished.

My war on monochromatic is well documented. I have a goodly supply of the time-honored traditional colors, but most of the unique flies I use each season are a mixture of effects – but almost always polychromatic.

Which isn’t saying much, as any guide can tell you of the client that scoffs at the flies offered him, loudly proclaiming, “I catch all my fish on an Adams” – and if that’s the only thing the gentlemen uses, it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.

Real differences in flies can only detected when pals are present. Count the number of outstretched palms, and figure you’re onto something.

Impressionists aren’t limited to flights of fancy, despite our being able to list a hundred great uses for Claret. We can use the scientific method when it suits us  – or succumb to the inner child as we deem fit.

Glance at a natural then immediately glance away. What color was it?

Likely you’ll say brown, or dark, or olive-black – you’ll retain a distinct impression of the predominant color and identify it. Flip the bug on its belly and do the same thing. Now it’s tan, or olive, or another color, Mother Nature always provides a light belly and dark back.

The back color is your base – and make the belly color the halo. It’s quite possible that fish on an intercept may get a glimpse of both – and a foraging fish that’s uprooted the insect from instream vegetation or the bottom will see the tumbling variant – guaranteeing both.

AP Black with Halo colors

Above is the traditional AP Black tied with the mixed black/green on the body, and mixed black/hot orange for the thorax. Those Angelina fibers that are visible are quite muted, but also very obvious.

They look black to me

Moving the perspective a couple inches further away and we’d call both flies … black.

Fish vision and perception are still hotly debated topics, far above our pay grade. What I do recognize is that most artificials are largely stiff compared to the wild gyrations of real insects – and anything I can add that implies motion is as good as the motion itself.

… and Science be Damned, the real fun is in spattering the canvas with Puce, Mauve, and Day Glo yellow, as it upsets conventional bug theory and masks the fact I’ve never been much good at painting within lines …

Tags: Soft Crimp Angelina, AP Black nymph, dubbing highlights, halo dubbing, fish vision, Chaos Theory, Impressionism, evangelical fly tyer

That was some of the best flying I’ve seen yet, right up to the point where you got killed

I didn't do itHer icy gaze punctuated by the bony digit pointed in my direction …

Naturally, I tried the First Law of Backpedalling, innocence.

“ … What?”

I gazed around studiously avoiding That Which She Held, but I guess my look of innocence wasn’t quite up to par – or I’d gone to that well too many times …

I was Flat Busted.

I had counted on her being dazed by the glitzy neon of the Las Vegas strip. A whirlwind of shows, drinking, and pulling handles – and the ensuing hangover would buy me enough time to replace the sink strainer.

Umm, No.

Instead I’m in my kitchen looking “hang dog” while the Gestapo asks me to collaborate.

… and I’ve warned you often enough. Make sure you clean all evidence of dye from the important fixtures and linoleum – so you aren’t pinched in your first attempt.

Angelina & Sink discolor Me, thinking I was a Ninja Master was part of my undoing. The rest was the horrifying discovery that sink strainers contain Polyester.

… there’s no label on the damn things, how was I to know?

The Olive and Peacock blends strained fine. The Grannom Green didn’t leave a mark, imagine my surprise when the Scarlet (which looks very Orange) left a calling card.

Our modern everyday sink strainer appears to have about 10% polyester – just enough to revoke my parole, and land me in the crosshairs yet again.

I’ve mentioned the destroyed feathers, hinted at the strain in relationships, insisted that you’d be a Past Master within minutes – and even tried the Manhood angle.

But you fellows were smarter than I was, and while I’m watching the next nine sappy romantic comedies with one star or less, understand that dinner works – but hell hath no fury like a woman wanting popcorn.

… and I’ll be fishing quite a few Angelina equipped flies this year hoping to get the taste out of my mouth.

Tags: dyeing polyester, soft crimp Angelina, grannom green, fly tying materials, peacock, damsel olive, sink strainer, Las Vegas, flat busted

The Sixth Finger Roadmap, a Powerpoint presentation filled with dancing frogs

The prototypes for the next generation of Sixth Finger scissors arrived on my doorstep yesterday. I’d asked for them to add a zipper so I could change it each year and obsolete everything you already own …

I figured I could offer it as a fetching facsimile to the Royal Canadian Mounties and the cord that secured their sidearm. Three and a half feet of ballistic nylon – and should you ever lay them down, they’d be available to sit on once you returned to your desk.

It certainly would reinforce the notion to keep them in your hand – the downside would be you’re having to tie standing up for the next three months.

Madison Ave calls it “branding” – affixing the image of a product into your subconscious so you can’t help but think of me when you see it. I call it a life long scar, and you’ll never be able to look at a Band-Aid or tourniquet without cringing …

The vendor has added all of the enhancements I’ve asked for and produced something quite special.

The General Purpose flavor of Sixth Finger Issue: The current flavor of scissor is a light-duty specialty scissor, with small light blades and fine tips. It’s wonderful for trout flies and medium sized flies, yet has issues with thick or bulky. Those same light blades offer a small sharp tip – but can be deflected by a heavy woven four strand yarn, or bulky chenille.

Resolution: The debut of the General Purpose variant, designed to accomodate light,  coarse, and heavy materials. It is equipped with a larger, heavier blade that cannot be deflected. It’s simple physics that cause the issue, and adding mass to the blade prevents it bending out of the way, and lengthening the handle allows more force to be exerted to sever large materials cleanly.

The General Purpose will be longer by an inch, half of which is in the blade area, and the balance in the handle. The spring mechanism has been shortened yet retains a crisp positive action. Even better is the blades – about twice the mass – both thicker and longer, and we didn’t have to give up the fine tips.

As I eat what I sell, I’ve already started testing the materials that proved difficult on the smaller scissors, and have been chuckling with great glee …

But I didn’t do you no favor …

Pure Tungsten at the tip To assist both normal and this new “General Purpose” variant, I’ve also added tungsten inserts on both models, but I didn’t do you any favor by doing so …

Tungsten Carbide is one of the hardest metals known to Man, and in scissors it makes a superior cutting edge – one that will last much longer than conventional surgical stainless.

It’s also the most brittle. One bleary-eyed late night cut where you catch the hook shank up at the scissor tip, and you can take the points clean off.

This is true of $500 surgical scissors as well as inexpensive flavor. The only known solution is to make a blunt point which allows more tungsten into the area, giving the tip greater shear strength. As fine tips are essential on a good set of scissors, blunt is unacceptable.

Having tied with Tungsten inserts and expensive surgical scissors for the last 25 years, I can vouch for the fragility of the tip. Bill Hunter sold me my first pair and mentioned, “you’ll have to relearn your scissor work, or you’ll tear these up.”

I did. But at the cost of the first pair.

The second set lasted 20 years, so the transition is easy enough to make, but only after you’ve destroyed at least one set. In short, you learn to make all cuts away from the shank – never cutting towards the hook.

We’ve also opted for an adjustable screw to aid quick disassembly for sharpening.  Medical scissors attempt to braise or grind the screw to prevent seams that allow bacteria to collect on the scissor surface. This prevents the screw from turning – and tightening the screw is often not possible.

As all scissors eventually need adjustment (except in the medical profession where they’re often discarded) –  I’ve got a slightly different screw assembly on these prototypes to see if I can adjust it in the future.

Summary: For 2010 I’ll be offering three models of the Sixth Finger; a larger General Purpose scissor with Tungsten inserts, the current model of surgical stainless, and a variant of the original scissor also with Tungsten inserts.

Pricing and availability should be around the mid-March timeframe. I’m attempting to bring the price in around the $25 dollar mark for the Tungsten and larger General Purpose flavors.

… and my thanks for the many helpful comments and feedback on these “children” of mine. Many of you have been quite candid about changes you’d like – or features that suited you, and I’ve rolled all that into this second generation of product.

Based on what testing I’ve completed, they’ll go through your jeans and a couple inches of Gluteus before you have time to draw a breath …

Testers: Around March I’ll be sending out 10-12 sets of the new scissors to some of the existing owners as a test group. If you’d like to test one model over another I’ll inquire before I send them.

I’d like to upgrade everyone, but the economics say otherwise.

Full Disclosure: I came up with the bright idea, and use them daily, to the exclusion of all other scissors. But as I’m also the vendor – I am not to be believed.

Tags: Sixth Finger Scissor, Product Roadmap, fly tying scissors, Tungsten Carbide, adjustable screw hole, fine tips, Bill Hunter, RCMP, shameless commerce

Part 2: The timid fellows guide to dyeing hair

In Part 1 we covered most of the dyeing process – and the difficulty associated with matching a known color.  The steps are the same for dyeing anything; first a cleanse and prep of the original material, followed by immersion in hot water so the shock of the dye bath doesn’t induce physical change.

Feathers are difficult because much of the time you’re dyeing loose materials, which can cause problems with their tendency to float – and your tendency to chase every last one, while the mass continues to darken even though its been removed from the dye itself.

By comparison chunks of hide are much easier. Furbearer’s may have some natural oils that prove resistant, but as you’re dealing with a single swatch you can pull it and rinse it as often as you like.

In essence, the hide chunk itself becomes the “test feather” – pulled routinely and rinsed until you have the desired color.

Big animals contain all manner of dirt, nettles, and dried guts or blood. If you’ve been gifted by a hunting buddy, you may have a lot more preparation work to get the hide suitable for coloration. This may include scraping all flesh and fat off the hide with a grapefruit spoon (serrated) before adding Borax or cornmeal and stretching the hide to dry.

We'll start with Polar Bear, Acid dye, and White Vinegar as fixative 

Other concerns are the age of the hide and its integrity. A hot dye bath and a vigorous clean and dry can be enough to break apart an old hide – especially Polar Bear, whose last legal importation was in the 1970’s.

We’ll repeat the process used on the feathers for the Polar Bear shown above, and in doing so – I’ll get to test a new color of Jacquard acid dye to get some familiarity with the vendor and their idea of Chartreuse.

As mentioned in Part 1, each vendor has a different palette and the label is a reference color – not a guarantee of the outcome. Chartreuse being a yellow tinged with green, I’m going to test their dye on a small piece prior to dyeing a larger amount.

Dish Detergent and agitation

The cleaning process is identical to feathers. A little dish detergent into the soak bowl, followed by agitation to remove any dirt particles at the base of the hair.

Always handle the item by the hide. Most hair is dyed for the tips and not the underfur. Gripping the hide will allow you to feel it break up, if it’s an old hide, and will not bust up the tips which is the portion we’ll be using on completed flies.

Rinse the completed section two or three times to remove the soap. Refill the soaking bowl with clean water and return the section of hide to it.

The Fur Difference:

Rythmic pressing against the bowl to remove oxygen Where dyeing feathers and fur differ, is that hides trap lots of oxygen in the underfur and matted hair. All of which must be removed before we can insert the piece in the dye bath.

Arrange the section “fur side down” and press your knuckles against the back of the hide to force out the oxygen. Do not allow the piece to surface. Rhythmically press down firmly and release (leaving the piece completely submerged) until no more bubbles escape.

It’s no different than loading a sponge. By pumping the back of the hide we’re pulling in water to replace the released oxygen, super-saturating the entire piece.

We do this to ensure that when the hide is placed in the dye bath, the pigment can reach all of the fur simultaneously. If it can’t, some sections will be darker than others.

Super-Saturated, note how it no longer floats Similar to those strung saddle hackles or Marabou you buy in the store. The tops are nicely dyed Purple, or whatever color purchased, but the butts are mottled with undyed sections of white. This is a result of not supersaturating the material. The dye hit the top three-quarters of the hackle while the butts retained oxygen, preventing color from soaking into the feathery marabou at their base.

The piece above is now supersaturated, note how it remains on the bottom.

Like the feathers we’ll add the piece to the dye bath without draining it. That will allow the dye to replace the fresh water uniformly, and the piece will be the same tint in both underfur and guard hair.

Adding to the dye without draining

At right, we’re adding the Polar bear into the dye undrained.

Chartreuse being a mixture of yellow and green, I will expect to see the material yellow immediately and the green to alter the shade over time.

Yellow is one of the rare colors that’s nearly impossible to screw up. It can be too dark or too light, but always “yellows” successfully. Because this is a new vendor and a dye I’ve not tried before, I’ll be alert to color change. If anything goes wrong the piece won’t be ruined, I can use green or yellow in flies, so there’s little risk.

Polar_Allatonce

It’s been in the bath less than thirty seconds, yet I’ll it to measure absorption. The super-saturation is evident by all parts of the hide, underfur, and tips, are receiving color.

A bit scary to see so much green”? No.

Many complex colors are a mixture crafted to deliver pigment over time. Most would think a Chartreuse dye would be predominantly yellow, yet it’s the opposite – a Kelly Green color.

I’ve always assumed it was the absorption rate that dictated mixtures and bath color. Yellow absorbs instantly, green having to fight its way past the yellow to lay itself down. Hence the Kelly green is added to overpower yellow.

Unless it’s Rinsed it ain’t that color

Polar Bear is a unique fiber, essentially a hint of color surrounded by a transparent sheath. Like most guard hair it’s a really tough material, and will take color slower than underfur, which is similar to feathers in absorption.

Color can only be confirmed after a rinse. Like our pulling of sample feathers to check the coloration, hair must be removed and rinsed to confirm its hue – as the fibers themselves are much tougher and resistant to color absorption. 

Polar_Drained

I’ve held the piece above the bath allowing the dye to drain out. It looks like a good chartreuse (note the underfur is dyed completely down to the hide – no white “roots”).

Rinsing will determine whether I’m done.

Holding the hair so the water is going in the same direction as the grain of fur, rinse it under cold tap water while alternately squeezing until the water runs clear.

Rinse in cold water

Cold water will close the pores of the material and the steady stream of water will cease coloration.

I have a nicely dyed piece of Yellow Polar bear, the chartreuse is largely gone.

Note how all the green seen in the above slides has vanished. Also note the fur is dyed completely, all the way to the hide.

Did I screw up the dye bath? Should I add more dye, more heat, or more fixative?

The answer is found on the back of the hide. Remember, we’re dealing with a vendor unfamiliar to us, likewise with a color of his we’ve never attempted …

The back of the piece, and the clue

Shown at right is the back of the hide, which has the telltale clue.

The hide itself is green, not yellow. That tells us that all colors of the dye were activated properly, and the result is likely what the vendor has chosen as Chartreuse.

There is a tiny hint of green in the color (your monitor may show it differently), given the material is soaking wet I’ll dry it completely and assess the color tomorrow, when all the variables will have been eliminated.

Polar bear, dyed and staked down on cardboard

Hides curl when dried – and it won’t matter whether the skin was naturally cured or tanned, it’ll roll up like a potato chip if you let it. Always tack the piece down on the corners using pins and cardboard so that it will dry evenly and remain flat.

Cardboard will wick water from the hide and assist the drying process better than wood. I’ll cut up a box and stake out all the pieces before taking them into the garage (or outside) to dry.

Note the uniformity of color in both guard hairs and underfur. No white splotches at the base, no slop.

… and the sign of success? Those nice pink fingers shown in all the illustrations above. Skin is protein, and will take the dye really well, expertise is judged by the color of your fingers – as that determines the color of your spouse’s kitchen and her precious linoleum.

Always wipe down the countertops and sink area. Dry dye powder can occasionally escape – and won’t become activated until something wet hits it. Better you to find it now than eating jaundiced Cheerios …

Tags: Chartreuse acid dye, dyeing polar bear, protein dye, dye bath, dyeing fly tying materials, marabou, strung saddle hackle, fly tying materials, fly tying

Part 1: The Timid Fellow’s Guide to Dyeing

The next time the wife complains of gray hair or dark roots you can leap to your feet and assist. Fiddling with Madam’s hair being a case of “come back with your shield, or on it” –  so you may want to practice a wee bit before restoring her lost youth …

Dyeing materials can be the easiest thing you’ve ever attempted, but it can also be the end of your relationship and the complete destruction of considerable high quality tying materials.

Despite all the complexity, coloration can be broken down into two real requirements, the first is easy – I need some red hackle. The second is incredibly difficult – I need some more of the same color.

Dyeing a primary color is easy. Buy the dye in the color you need, follow the labeled instructions, add fixative, and dry the mess out. Matching a color is much more difficult. The fellow that made it may have used a different vendor for his dye, dipped it for an unknown length of time, and you’ve got to reverse engineer that color back out of your pot – which is not trivial.

The Big Two:

For animal parts, furs, feathers, hides, and anything else natural (except plant fiber), you can use the commonplace dyes available in your supermarket, like powdered or liquid RIT – or you can use coal tar dyes – also known as “acid” or “protein dyes.

Each has its preferred fixative, RIT uses table salt – and protein dyes use any weak solution of acid. Muriatic and Acetic acid are the most common fixatives, you know them as white vinegar (5% solution of Acetic acid), and Muriatic is (a 10% solution of Hydrochloric) sold to properly PH your swimming pool. Both are readily available and cheap.

A whiff of Muriatic is most memorable, the inhale starts and the body instantly overrides the mind. If you don’t already have a swimming pool (and don’t care for noxious chemicals) stick with the plain white vinegar.

Each dye vendor has a completely different range of colors and compounds used to make them, which can add some unneccesary complexity when mixing and matching. It’s best to  pick one as the source of all your colors, relying on a combination of written notes and familiarity with his colors to breed consistency quickly.

I’ve recently changed to Pro Chemical & Dye as my protein source. I can buy dye in pounds or ounces, and the prices vary by color. If you remember your history books, different colors are the result of different rare earths and minerals, some being more expensive than others like Cobalt, which is why their pricing is disjoint.

… and the range can be significant. Coral Pink is $2.40 per ounce, and Yellow is $9.00 an ounce. They also have a full range of odd fixatives, dyes for synthetic fibers, instructions on use, and a great complement of detergents and degreasers.

RIT is somewhat self explanatory. You get what the supermarket or craft store stocks. Most salt fixed dyes recommend non-Iodized salt, but they plainly state that table salt works just fine.

The Strong and the Weak

Each of these types of dye have strong and weak points – and rules that you must follow religiously.

Rule #1: Salt-fixed dyes (RIT, Tintex) should only be used for earthen or pastel colors – never used to make bright or vibrant color.

There’s good reason for the above. RIT is a weak fabric dye and salt isn’t much of a fixative. If you think of the molecular level, the pigment has to “stick” to the filaments you’re dyeing, and the fixative is largely there to “score” the fibers and let the dye attach itself permanently.

Salt is really quite toxic in high concentrations so it acts like an acid, it’s just not a very good one.

Tan, Light Brown, Pale Yellow, imitation Wood Duck, gray, light Olive – any of the lighter shades of natural colors will allow RIT to do a serviceable job. It’s quite capable of dark colors as well – but stick to the Brown’s, Yellow’s, some Olives, and the warm end of the spectrum.

It also helps to use pure white materials when using RIT as it lacks the muscle to overpower tinted or off-white materials. In more advanced processes we can use this to our advantage, as in the Bronze Blue Dun neck -which is largely medium gray with a brown tint.

Rule #2: Bright, vibrant, or fluorescent, should always be Protein dyes.

Largely for the reasons stated above. Weak solutions of acid can better penetrate fibers and therefore deposit more pigment. If you’re after the steelhead colors; Purple, Red, Orange, and Green, and you need them vivid – stick to the protein flavor.

The Hidden Color Story

Rule #3: The color on the package is called a “reference color.”

This is where most of you will make the first hundred dollar mistake. You’ll dye a little rabbit fur or marabou and have some success. Emboldened, you’ll reach for an immaculate #1 Whiting Cream neck and match it with a medium Gray dye …

… and tears are the result.

The package is labeled with one of the many possible colors you may get. It’s not the color achieved by flinging the entire box into the water followed by a shovel-full of salt.

In my experience the reference color, that displayed on the packaging, is about halfway down the possible spectrum. That’s why your Whiting neck is now a rare color of soot…

Rule #4: Meathead, Read the Goddamn label.

RIT dyes plainly state, “this approximates the color achieved when adding one pound of fabric to the dye bath.” As your precious $75 is now soot-black, it’s your own damn fault.

Think about the weight of the material you’re about to dye and contrast that to the “one pound of fabric” that small package is intended to color. Adding a single box (or bottle) to the pot is about 6 times too much dye, giving you four seconds where the color was acceptable, and you missed it and it’s enroute to Ebony.

Let’s blacken Mama’s Kitchen shall we?

As the principal cook and bottle washer I’m allowed special dispensation in my kitchen – and can extricate myself from Hell’s fiery grip with the next gourmet meal…

If you aren’t similarly situated then you’ll just have to be cleaner than most.

All dyeing should be done in porcelain lined pots or stainless steel. There’s plenty of sour, odiferous, and caustic elements you’ll be juggling – so you’ll be buying these pots rather than using Mama’s.

You’ll need wooden spoons, Barbeque tongs, a Chinese deep fry strainer, and perhaps later – a candy thermometer. Most of this stuff can be scored at garage sales, so while walking the dog keep your eyes peeled. The above links are reference only, not a recommendation.

The deep fry strainer is for loose fur and feathers. You could also use a permeable bag of some sort – but this is how you’ll remove all the individual items from the dye bath. Tongs are needed for the larger single pieces – like chicken necks and saddles, or chunks of dyed hides. Remember all this stuff will be hot, so try to get wooden handles on everything.

A candy thermometer is needed for synthetics mostly. Most of them melt over a certain temperature, so you’ll need to constantly adjust flame to avoid exceeding the temp listed in the material data sheet.

Many vendors provide material data sheets on their web sites, and you can look up the melt point on a yarn or synthetic fabric easily. As most of the synthetics in fly shops are “super secret” – stolen from another industry and relabeled … well, good luck.

My entire kit cost me about nine dollars, as I’m the Scourge of the local Goodwill franchise.

You’ll use plenty of paper towels, a little dish detergent, and you’ll want hand sponges to mop up the slurps and spills, so lay in a different color than you use around dishes and food.

Rule #5: Hide all this from your spouse. If she sees all those cleaning products she’ll take it as proof that “love can change him” – so she’ll redouble her efforts after she recovers from her faint …

The Mark of the Professional is not success, it’s pink fingers

I’m going to leave the simple colors for your experimentation and head straight for the difficult and frustrating. We’re going to attempt the dreaded, “Lemon dyed Wood Duck” with only the Medium Bronze Blue Dun killing more quality feathers …

The Color Theory Component: Lemon Wood Duck can actually be dyed more than one way which shouldn’t be too surprising. Complex colors offer multiple paths to a single shade.

Golden Yellow and Tan is our starting point As Lemon Wood Duck is a tan/yellow tint we can start with tan and add yellow, or start with yellow and add tan. Pretty simple sounding, but dye concentration and timing are still wild cards.

I’ve selected RIT for the task. RIT does good pastels and earth tones, and it’ll allow you to put the “death rattle” in your relationship if you wish to follow along.

I chose Golden Yellow as there’s a hint of amber to some flank feathers, and a hint of orange is in the dye to assist me in that effect.

Feather Preparation: I’ve got a Blue Winged Teal and Gadwall mix left from last season. Both have the beautiful dark markings I like, and as a bonus I can use these feathers to make Bird’s Nest’s as well.

Waterfowl are one of the hideous feathers to dye. They’re full of grit, blood, and natural oils, and should be thoroughly soaked to get them cleansed and waterlogged. (I’ll cover the water logged component in the next installment when we do animal fur)

Soak and wash Prepare a bowl deep enough to get the feathers submerged using cold water and about half a teaspoon of regular dish detergent.

For added realism you can use Lemon Scented …

Once you given the feathers a vigorous wash (evidenced by the detergent bubbles at left) lay the deep fry strainer over them and let steep. The more water we can soak into the feathers the better.

After about 30 minutes of soaking rinse the feathers clean with about three passes of clean water.

Now we’re ready to get dirty.

In your porcelain pot add enough water to cover the amount of feathers you’ll be dyeing. You’ll want enough to keep them underwater as much as is possible.

Get the water hot enough so there’s plenty of steam coming off yet no evidence of boil. Set your flame on low from here on.

Drain the water from the feather soaking bowl and refill it with hot water from the tap. This ensures the feathers are hot when moved into the dye pot and reduces any shock to them caused by the move from cold to red hot.

Do not drain the feather water, we’ll pull them out of the water and plop them straight into the pot completely soaked.

Both writing and dyeing proves Less is More

We’re not dyeing a solid color, rather it’s more of a tint. We’ll use a “less is more” approach identical to the coffee brewed at your workplace. We’ll start with a woefully inadequate amount of coffee dye and gradually strengthen it to what’s needed. It allows us pinpoint control over the mixture because too little dye won’t color anything – and more importantly, it won’t color anything quickly.

Your starting amounts are dependent on the amount of feathers being dyed and the volume of water used. As you are likely doing a different amount start stingy, add more as I will.

One teaspoon of each, those are food spoons I’m starting with a tiny amount, one teaspoon of powdered RIT tan, and one of the Golden Yellow.

Mix the colors in your water and add about 1/2 cup salt as fixative, swirl until everything has dissolved cleanly. The dye bath is weak so chances are you can still see the bottom of the pot.

With the deep fry strainer, remove all the feathers from the soaking bowl and get them into the dye bath. As the feathers are pre-heated the tips won’t curl when the hot water hits them.

Pick a good reference point, and consider the Physics

The softest material of the feather will pick up the dye first, and the Physics of wet feathers means they’ll be two to three shades darker when wet than when they’re dry.

I’ll watch the duck “marabou” at the base of each feather as my initial color indicator as it will absorb color before any other element of the feather. This will be my clue that the feather portion is starting to take on color.

The marabou is no longer white I’ll shift the color watch to the feather tips once I see the marabou start to darken, as the tip is the portion I need to match to the real duck. Once the tip starts taking color, I’ll pull all the feathers when they’re about 3 shades too dark.

Sounds pretty simple.

Start adding more dye. Add one more teaspoon of tan, and one more teaspoon of golden yellow. Keep the feathers agitated and off the bottom of the pot. Anything touching the bottom of the pot for any length of time will curl or burn, so make sure you pull the stirring spoons out of the pot when not in use.

At intervals pull the strainer through and examine the effects.

After a couple minutes with little effect, add another teaspoon of each color. Mix each addition thoroughly to ensure consistency of color, while keeping your eyes peeled on the marabou.

The picture at right, above – shows the marabou starting to take on the tan color, not the yellow. We can’t afford to add anymore tan – so we’ll match the color by adding more yellow.

Add teaspoon of yellow. Marabou still tan. Add another teaspoon of yellow, marabou shows warming trend – so we’ll add one more teaspoon of yellow, and add nothing more. This eliminates all variables save the immersion time.

The Kid’s Hammy Hands were a blur in the Noonday sun

Test feather Yank a test feather from the dye bath and dry it by mashing it between paper towels, move quickly to fluff the feather out for inspection – as color is still darkening on the pot contents.

Looks good, but damp (nearly dry) feathers are one shade darker than bone dry.

We can see from the picture at left that the yellow is deepening and the tan has remained constant.

Pull another feather every minute until the nearly dry version is exactly one shade too dark. Refill the soaking pot with cold fresh water in the meantime. We’ll be yanking the feathers from the dye bath and dumping them straight into the soak bowl. The fresh water will dilute any dye remaining on the feather and they’ll cease the coloration process.

The all-important Yank and Cleanse

Kill the fire under the pot and with the deep fry strainer gather everything and immerse it into the soaking bowl. It’s critical not to chase the few feathers left in the pot, since every moment you’re fiddling the mass of feathers can be darkening. Grab the easy stuff and start the rinsing process.

Like the detergent wash, you’ll want to run about three passes of fresh clean water through the soak bowl. Agitate and squeeze the feathers until the water ceases to yellow.

Now wash one more time because salt really sucks.

Salt fixed dyes can be an irritant to the tyer if the feathers are not cleansed enough. You’re busy tying Quill Gordon’s and wipe the back of your fingers across your eyes – leaving just enough salt to irritate them. Three passes for the dye, and a fourth for salt.

The final damp product, your monitor may vary

After all that pain and suffering here’s the final result. The feather on the left is damp and should lighten about one more shade when bone dry.

… and if my count is accurate the final formula was 5 teaspoons of golden yellow and 3 teaspoons of tan RIT.

Remember that each computer monitor will render a color palette differently, so I can’t promise what you’ll see. From my perspective I’m looking at a near match (once completely dry).

Dyeing your own materials is one of those final hurdles for any tyer aspiring to great things. If hurried it can also be the source of massive pocketbook destruction.

Many years ago I had the responsibility for dyeing most of the materials that the different shops stocked, and my scorched and maimed mistakes hidden in the trash where the Boss never looked. Most shops no longer do their own work, relying instead on prepackaged vendor colors instead of the fellow in a back room screaming from the dye bath emptied on his crotch.

Little wonder, that.

In the next installment we’ll cover acid dyes and animal fur, and while most of the preparation is identical there’s still a few tweaks you’ll need to know unique to hair and its coloration.

… and as this was in response to a reader request, if you have anything else you’d like me to cover, be sure to ask.

The "Get Out of Jail Free" card

This is the “get out of Jail free” card, less you think I was emboldened to the point of invulnerability. One careless misstep with the dye bath, one slopped pot of duck feathers on the kitchen floor and the “Grim Sweeper” will come off that couch like a Thunderbolt ….

The recipe is more like 50-50 tan versus golden brown, and yields mostly dark meat – jaundiced actually, but she saw the detergent and sponges and has big stars in her eyes …

Tags: Lemon dyed Wood duck, RIT dyes, how to dye fly tying materials, how to enrage your spouse, Tintex, Teal flank, Gadwall flank, deep fat strainer, porcelain dye pots, coal tar dyes, acid dyes, pro chemical & dye, bulk fly tying materials, feather preparation, dyeing feathers

Cal Bird’s Modified distribution wrap, for Monty Montana

In last Monday’s post we described the distribution wrap, a method to make feathers that were oversized act as hackle on smaller hooks. That post described how a single segment of even flank feather could be spun around the shank as hackle.

One of the more popular flies that Cal originated was the Bird’s Nest, where he’d use Tintex Maple Sugar dye to color heavily barred teal flank – and then use a modified distribution wrap to use feathers whose tips were crooked but whose sides were even.

Tintex Maple Sugar dyed teal flank

The above is a reference color from a batch of teal flank that Cal dyed for me. Tintex “Maple Sugar” is no longer made but the color can be reproduced with a good warm amber or imitation wood duck dye.

Tip clipped and used for the tail

Clip the tip and center stem of the feather and mount that fragment as the tail. The width of the sides sections determine whether the fly is lightly or heavily hackled. For the hook shown (#8) you will need about 3/8” segments on either side – about half of what’s shown.

Measure the teal against the tail

The front hackle should extend half way down the tail. This is a reference measurement before clamping the near side of the feather to the hook shank with my thumb (to freeze the movement).

Near side clamped to shank with left thumb

Left thumb clamps the fibers to the hook shank to prevent movement. The left forefinger will come down on the far side clump and pinch it to the far side of the fly.

The forefinger squeezes the other segment to the far side of the fly

Now that both segments are measured and secured with finger pressure, bring the thread up to roll them around the shank and even out the fibers.

Near side has thread, far side is coming around the belly of the fly

The thread is shown distributing the feathers. The near side clump becomes the top half of the fly, the far side clump wraps the fibers around the belly of the fly.

hackle collar complete

The hackle collar is anchored. Like the original distribution wrap you can wind back towards the body to redistribute the fibers any way you like. Clip off the remainder of the feather once you’ve finalized the hackle placement.

Completed Olive Bird's Nest

The completed #8 Olive Bird’s Nest. Cal preferred the old Mustad 7957BX hook which was 1X long, 1X heavy, forged model Perfect bend.

Woodcock & Orange

Here’s the same wrap done on a #14 Woodcock & Orange. A collaborative effort; seal provided by [Unknown], Woodcock arrived at Christmas – compliments of the Roughfisher – and glue lump assisted by a holiday sugar rush coupled with unsteady hands.

For Monty Montana.

Tags: Woodcock, seal fur, maple sugar Tintex, teal flank, Cal Bird, Bird’s Nest, soft hackle, Roughfisher.com, Christmas sugar rush, distribution wrap