Category Archives: Fly tying Materials

Where to find them cheaply

That 70’s cloth none of us admit to wearing? That shortened your life too

Darth Polyester

I figure it was some great sin in a past life – nothing newsworthy or famous, just some callous Lothario that fleeced spinsters of their birthright, some real estate wunderkind that unloaded worthless railroad right-of-way by foreclosing on widows and orphans.

Others have a knack for useful things like plumbing or electrical wiring, own a house full of beaming children and spend most of their time basking in the adoring gaze of their spouse.

Me, I wallow in toxins.

I smile as girlfriend backs out of the garage, giving “thumbs up” while waving the list of “honey-do’s” – and as soon as she’s upwind I’m adding a dab of this to a dollop of that, all of which have skulls and crossbones on the label.

… all of which say, “empty into your sink when finished.”

The sport may be “green” but its components are pure death.

With strong winds in the area and “Momma” elsewhere, it was time to explore polyester and the disperse dyes needed to give it lasting color. Synthetics can be made from thousands of polymers, many of the items we use can be derivatives of nylon, polyester, rayon, or even a component of a natural material like viscose, comprised of plant or wood fiber.

All we see is “shiny” or “sparkly” and rarely delve further than shelling out the money for a nickel bag.

The nice folks that make the raw Soft Crimp Angelina material had sent me the Holy Grail of their “doll hair” fiber, a material data sheet that outlined the temperatures the fiber melts at, the temp the fiber loses its iridescence, and similar data that would allow me to dye their product without torching too many Ben Franklin’s …

Many of you have asked about the material, which is unavailable anywhere except in tiny little packets labeled, “Ice Dub.” I use it in raw form in countless flies and dubbing blends, but have shied away from coloring it because polyester requires caustic chemicals and plenty of heat.

Tasty Peacock Green  … not to mention the fumes, which is the Shit are pervasive and great odiferous. A well ventilated environment is needed so you can get the entire neighborhood lit and as kitchen cabinets, countertops, and flooring may be unknown material (may contain polyester) you can’t afford to drip the stuff on anything other than porcelain or stainless steel.

Skin is no problem. You could dip your head in it and brush your teeth, and after a couple whiffs you’ll want to …

Pro Chemical & Dye has dyes for every type of fiber you’ll encounter. With only 12 colors available for polyester you’ll need to learn the artist’s color wheel and how to construct complex colors from their components.

Example: Olive, a complex color made of equal parts yellow and green, with 1/2 a part of dark grey or black. Add yellow to make it a “warm” olive, and more green to make it a “cold” olive, and add more black to make it a dark olive (either warm or cold). For the below colors I used equal parts Kelly green and Buttercup yellow, and a half part of Cool Black (Pro Chemical & Dye colors). Using Buttercup versus the Bright Yellow means I’ll err on the side of a warm Olive.

As I’ve had experience in dyeing colors and building shades and tints using their components, my goal was to build a color that resembles a Peacock herl or eye. The iridescence was the easy part – it was built right into the Aurora Soft Crimp Angelina, which has motes of bronze, green, and gold.

Peacock is a double complex color as it would be described as green, olive, dark green, bright green, or bronze, depending on the location of the herl and the genetics of the bird itself.

You can’t dye material “peacock” – instead you dye three or four colors around it and blend them to make the final coloration. This is much easier than it sounds as dye baths will alter shades and color depending on the amount of time the material is left soaking.

Three shades, one dye bath

Here is the damp material after 3 minutes (left), 6 minutes (top), and 9 minutes (bottom). One dye bath to color all three shades, only immersion time differs.

Blended Angelina under Morning light

Here’s the final blended color seen under morning light. You can pick out the lighter tints and darkened fibers in the aggregate mass – and I still have the three other shades should I want to alter it further. I used the same formula when blending the result; one part green, one part darker olive, half a part of the darkest shade.

Used on a leech

The above shows the mixture used on a traditional leech pattern, note how the florescent light makes the material much more green than the prior photo shot outdoors. Florescent is a “white” light – not blue tinted as is normal sunlight, it always lightens colors by one or more shades.

#14 Zug Bug

I always hated tying Zug Bugs as the peacock has difficulty hiding the bulge of lead wire underneath – plus its fragility. Above is a #14 Zug Bug tied with the blended color, note how the slip of mallard lies flat on the back (as it should). The finer filament coupled with the ability to build the proper taper with dubbing gives much more control over the fly than wound herl, and the durability is increased at the same time.

That's no "dime" bag

I still need a great deal more practice with these new dyes but once I’ve built the formula for colors and immersion times, I’ll be able to reproduce these with reasonable surety. Returning the material to its dry and fluffy state is also quite problematic as I’m still un-matting the fibers by hand.

Knowing my “stay of execution” is limited – I’m hustling the dye pot outside as soon as each color is achieved, there to cool down while fumes exit the house. The ceramic disk attached to the storm drain stares at me accusingly – a large fish with the entreaty, “this empties directly into the river.”

I considered the crime briefly, but opted for the squirrel burrow in the backyard. While the label says it’s safe I’d rather be entertained by a florescent Orange squirrel staggering out of his burrow on unsteady legs.

The kids next door trundle up to investigate and I’m unaware until the little blond angel wrinkles her nose and says, “oOo, what’s that smell?”

They’re peering into the algae colored water with the shiny bits of debris  – and I’m croaking out my best sinister through the rebreather, “ .. in the cauldron boil and bake, eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of your dog …”

… they screamed appreciatively all the way back to the house. Ma came out to make sure all was well – and fixed me with the obligatory “you are so bad” look as soon as chubby fingers pointed in my direction.

It means visitors next Saturday night requiring a double fistful of Snickers to pay for my sins.

Tags: Peacock, Ice Dub, Soft Crimp Angelina, Pro Chemical & Dye, polyester, disperse dyes, Halloween, little blond angel, toxic chemicals, Leech, Zug Bug, fly tying materials, fly tying

How to torture both cloth and your dog, and not wear the result

Having a eye for the next great fly tying material is one thing, ideas being the easiest part of the larger riddle, it’s the destruction and transformation that is the real test of invention.

I’ve discovered the next great dry fly dubbing; filament size smaller than the finest materials currently available, specific gravity less than 1.0 – so it floats naturally, and wants to stick to thread so badly that static from your fingers is nearly enough to wind it tightly around unwaxed thread…

The #16 Light Cahill

I’ve got visions of groupies and dinners at the White House, getting the “hale fellow well met” glad-hand from the current anglers of legend, and never having to pay for drinks again…

… there’s just this teensy little problem I have …

I have to destroy it to make it.

Blenders can’t dent it, acid melts it, and dragging it behind my truck works – but I can’t tie enough to the bumper to create a snowstorm of filaments that I can scoop off the neighbor’s lawn.

I’m doing battle with some Ph.D fabric engineer who saw a great cloth and spent months ensuring it’d never unravel. He didn’t realize some idiot fly tyer would delight in destroying his best work for the sake of dampening it in a trout stream.

Old Tailwagger The first sign of progress was the judicious use of “Old Tailwagger.” It’s right after blenders in the fly tying book of mass destruction. Blenders excel on yarn, but fabric requires torture to become fibrous, and the Tailwagger is the tool of choice for stressing tightly woven filaments.

The downside being everything four legged is your new best friend. I use a brown paper bag to smuggle it past the family pets – which possess a sixth sense for leashes, brushes, and trips to the refrigerator.

The above picture shows the results of stressing a “panel” of material and rendering it from flat and lifeless – to a veritable sheepdog of fiber.

Note the fiber at the tail, about 1/5 the thickness of a single hackle

As I’m still possessed by the Catskill dry (due to Mike Valla’s book) the above shows a single filament of the dubbing contrasted against the tail fibers of a Light Cahill. The filament size is only about 1/8 of the width of a single hackle barbule.

That’s nearly microscopic.

That translates into a tiny dry fly body – and much less water absorption than normal. Wings and bodies have always proven the nemesis of dry flies as they’re the only materials that don’t assist in flotation. Smaller amounts of dubbing assists both classic dry and their scientific cousins in remaining afloat.

No build up

For the aspiring dry fly fiend this solves one of the more troublesome problems. How to dub a tight thin body that’s neither lumpy nor absorbs extra water. The above magnification shows the complete dubbed Light Cahill, albeit poorly, there’s almost no build up of material when compared to the raw thread area behind the wing.

… and why I spent the better part of this weekend transforming the material into something usable.

Hell, I got a bag full of the Goodie

Now all the fun starts. Dyeing the material into the most common 15-20 colors used for dry flies – additional tinkering with blended colors – and I may attempt to mix it with larger-fibered beaver or muskrat just to gauge the effect.

Microscopic fibers don’t blend well using machinery. Only water shaken vigorously can act as the blending agent. Blender blades and agitators just clump the fiber like cotton candy.

It’ll take some time to pick the colors and render mass quantities of material, but Winter is plenty long and this type of project is just what’s needed when football grows dull.

Those of you who fancy the dry fly might want to drop me a note. I’d be happy to send out some samples when I get a couple nice Olives and a medium Gray, as I’ll be looking for some feedback on both the material and colors. Refining a raw product takes a great deal of tinkering, patience, and time.

Tags: dubbing, classic dry flies, Light Cahill, dry fly dubbing, fly tying materials, fly tying

How to extinct the San Juan Worm without half trying

I’ve been holding this one close to the vest for fear of upsetting the Roughfisher, knowing once he catches a glimpse of what’s possible, we’ll be seeing “Darth Earthworm” and the San Juan Worm’s days are numbered.

Paton Glittallic yarn

It’s actually two yarns loosely wrapped together. One is best described as a trilobal-polyester that glitters like broken glass, intertwined with a soft synthetic braid that can be used as a flat yarn, or you can stuff things inside it to stretch it into a veined mayfly wing, or seal the ends to make a San Juan Worm-killer.

Pink and Amber

The woven strand looks like a shed reptile skin – and whips around in the water like a snake. I used it for the shellback on the October Caddis earlier, and am converting the old SJW to this – more mobile flavor.

The downside is that not a lot of colors are available, and being polyester, dyeing what’s needed is more work than I care to endure. Special polyester dyes are required as is a chemical fixative and a lot of heat.

SJW Killer

I flamed the end to melt some rigidity into the tube, threaded it over a 4mm gold bead and added the SJW headpiece. Both tubes are sealed with a lighter to complete the fly. The motion is so much more wormlike than the velvet chenille that I’m tempted to eat it.

What’s needed is a good rich Olive, but I’ve only found the material in black, Lilac Lame (pink), Cream Gleam, Blue Flash, and Maroon Shine. It’s about $2 per skein on EBay.

Tags: San Juan Worm, Paton Glittallic, Polyester, Lurex, October Caddis, fly tying material, Roughfisher.com. trilobal yarn,

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

How a tee shirt becomes a dry fly

There’s at least 175 ways to get this outcome accidentally, but only one way to do it intentionally…

Grizzly is one of those “must have” chickens that’s used on absolutely everything. Big feathers used on streamers, small feathers used on dry flies, and everything else used to make hackle tip wings or add mottling to nymph parts.

#16 One Feather Adam's Fly tiers that dye their own feathers are often tempted to toss all the other colors and just dye Grizzly necks Brown, Medium Dun or Ginger. Impressionists like myself love the mixture of colors on the feather – with the light bands somewhat indistinct, and the dark bars offering rigid color that define the fly.

I’d been fiddling with Jacquard Acid Dyes and streamer feathers – using the old “butt ends” of grizzly necks to tinker with yet another dubious idea. Dyeing is the best way to destroy materials and experimenting with new dyes always adds a couple extra foibles guaranteed to disappoint.

I ran out of the chestnut dyed grizzly used for the Calibaetis dry flies I use while lake fishing, and worked up enough nerve to dye a Hoffman Saddle with Jacquard’s version of Olive –  which is actually a nice brown color.

Testing on a chunk of Red Fox confirmed it was a warm chestnut color, and I added a teaspoon of Aztec Gold to warm it further. I vacillate on this fly every season – some years I use natural Grizzly, and when that doesn’t work the next I’m tying the chestnut variant.

A feather with both would be perfect.

Tie-dyed grizzly, an Adam's with one feather

I’ve been playing with a “tie-dye” method for feathers that does something similar. I tightly wrap kite twine to a stick then bind the saddle onto the surface with concentric wraps of twine. Tied tight enough the twine prevents the dye from reaching the feather yielding a “bar” of natural color that can be dropped into a second color of dye (or left natural) to make multicolored hackle.

One look at typical baitfish explains why you’d want a multicolor effect – or the dyed-natural flavor, fish start with a light colored belly and a dark back – with many colors between the two.

More bang for the buck

Us retired commercial fly tiers recognize an Adam’s could be tied with one hackle. Not only would it be cheaper but it would be much faster too. While profit is no longer much of a motivation, like most fly tiers, I still hate using two hackles to tie one dry fly.

Large streamer hackles (some shown above) give a nice color transition from natural to brown. Olive would make another nice color to transition with yellow or similar light color. Toss this into a lighter colored dye bath, like yellow, and the brown would be untouched while the natural sections slurped up that yellow dye.

With this batch I tried a couple other cords all smaller than the kite twine, and all failed to hold the color at bay. I don’t think anything smaller than 30lb mono is capable of mashing the fibers tight enough.

Tags: tie dye, fly tying materials, grizzly hackle, Hoffman saddle hackle, chestnut, Jacquard’s Acid Dyes, Red Fox fur, dyeing fly tying materials

Elk Hair Caddis still don’t tie themselves, something to consider before you call that Malibu halfway house

vulterine guinea fowl I’ve told you many times how fly tiers are a bestial lot lacking moral fiber and entirely untrustworthy when it comes to brightly colored wildlife …

… all wildlife really … they’re hell on the drab stuff too.

A couple of weeks ago Moldy Chum posted about a rare collection of birds pelts lifted from a museum in England – how fly tiers were being “hobby-profiled” and cavity searched as part of the investigation.

At some point all fly tiers work up the nerve to attempt the full dress Atlantic Salmon featherwing as it’s both work of art and testament to the craftsman. Like Everest it’s there – and that’s enough to draw the bold, the feeble minded, and those that thrive under impossible circumstance.

The genre is utterly brutal; starting with feathers and furs that have been banned for 50 years, and ending in a crescendo of references to out of print books, hooks you have to make yourself and a “trail of tears” with no apparent end.

Accumulating the materials is impossible without risking significant jail time. Those that have them are close lipped, those that don’t rely on dyed imitations of a feather they’ve never seen or felt – unsure if it’s even a good imitation.

Those addicted to the craft will endure any agony and pay any price for the original materials.

Many years ago I did my best to scrape together what I could when some of it was still legal. Despite my best attempts at cloak and dagger 90% of what I needed was only available in dimly lit alcoves – sold by smelly old guys wearing trench coats…

Real Indian Crow Doing a little research recently I stumbled upon Ken Sawada’s storefront where some of these feathers are sold legally. Before you run out and drop $72 for four Indian Crow feathers (which makes two flies) remember it’s not legal to import them into this country – despite their availability in Japan.

The prices are unreal and make fancy fly rods and engraved fly reels pale in comparison. For the fly tiers so afflicted here’s a chance to see what the originals look like. I would save the pictures for reference material.

Speckled Bustard                     Speckled Bustard anyone? The shoulders are only $839 for the pair. Cheap.

Keep in mind that Condor substitute – not the real stuff, is $61 per feather.

By now the non-fly tier’s are thinking we need detox or an intervention – 8 weeks mingling with D-list celebrities in some Malibu halfway house. But rather than condemn us to a fiery hell for our avarice and desire to own rare species, remember that Elk Hair Caddis still cannot tie themselves. You still need us.

I’m sure the decline in the US dollar has aggravated prices just a wee bit. The fly rods are cheaper than ours, but the Ken Sawada hooks are $35 for 25 in the trout sizes. Adam’s are $3.93 each.

It’s an interesting browse just the same. A glimpse at feathers you may never see again – and little wonder that fly dressers in the UK (or abroad) might be fencing Blue Chatterer to the tune of a tidy profit.

Tags: Blue Chatterer, Speckled Bustard, Indian Crow, Full Dress Atlantic Salmon flies, stolen museum birds, fly tying, condor, vulturine Guinea fowl, Ken Sawada

How they do that is a mystery

You might say my day started poorly. I’m up extra early attempting to cram in a fast run to Sporting Creek even though it’s supposed to be chore day.

My first mistake was making the coffee using the dubbing grinder – the Obergruppenführer of Romance insisted I be doubly good in her absence and had outlined a long string of chores to accomplish. The commandment was “…and don’t mess or dirty anything!’” – and I’m spewing Angora French Roast out of my nose while hacking up a claret hairball.

I figured “dry grinding” some of the my double-extra complex dubbing could be done while fixing leaky faucets and doing the laundry. A once-over with a wet sponge and the countertop is “guy clean”.

… and if she spots a dust mote shrug shoulder and act innocent.

Now I’ve got French Roast dripping from the kitchen cabinets and using her pasta fork to scrape squirrel off my tongue. At 3AM you simply strain the coffee through a washcloth and keep packing the truck. Tastebuds don’t wake up till 4:00 AM – so the washcloth doesn’t even have to be clean …

5 colors will make many more Fishing was frustrating and fun – but meeting my first female brownliner was a first. I was already in deep yogurt with the Missus, so I didn’t compound the sin by chatting longer than pleasantries.

I manfully tied on an apron when I returned and did my best not to sulk.

“Dry dyeing” uses the colors of the components to make new colors. I started with 5 colors of an angora-mohair blend, 4 natural furs, and the Soft Crimp Angelina. While diligently mopping the kitchen, mowing, changing light bulbs, and doing all the rest of the honey-do’s, I’d periodically return to the scene of the crime and mash the grind button.

Complex colors - made with up to 10 components each

That’s a grapefruit sized ball of dubbing in each color, enough to tie many thousands of questionables. A little judicious use of the Artist’s Color Wheel allowed me to get a full spectrum of buggy colors with only the five yarn blends as coloring agent.

Most were constructed of equal parts of an adjacent color, some have three, others require four. Can you pick out the color that is all five mixed together? (*answer below)

Just harken back to elementary school watercolors – and what happened when they all ran together.

Complex dubbed Birdsnest

The above Birdsnest is constructed of brown partridge and a complex dubbing. It’s actually brown but photographed under a florescent (white light) lamp which lightens it up considerably. Note how the claret color stands out from the rest of the components.

Which is precisely what I expect on the Missus’s return. One white gloved swipe of the kitchen counter and she’ll mention, “ … note how the exhaled French Roast stands out from the faux walnut of my cabinets.”

How they do that is a mystery…

*Bottom left – the same color as used on the Birdsnest, note the difference of natural daylight versus florescent light in it’s appearance.

Tags: Angora, Mohair, blended dubbing, brownliner, partridge, artist’s color wheel, french roast, fly fishing, fly tying materials, deep yogurt, guy clean

How Yugoslavia put the adrenaline back in fly tying

I suppose some might consider it  “the fun’s back in fly tying” – but while I’m here sucking a forefinger, I don’t see it that way…

The Skalka and Knapek competition barbless hooks arrived yesterday, and with less than 24 hours before my march northward, I had to bang out as many flies as possible to have something to test.

I tested my coagulation rate thoroughly, that and my blood type…

Knapek dry fly and streamer hooks are a “squarish” bend with a wicked kirbed, barbless needle for a point that seeks human flesh with neither guilt nor remorse. Lacking a barb to slow its progress through your palm or forefinger – it’s added a new dimension to fly tying…

… and that’s what I’d expect of a hook that costs nearly $0.30 each – whose attributes might separate you from kissing “Miss Colorado Flyfish” and a five digit payday.

Knapek Streamer Hook

For the first time I found myself commiserating with the prey – as I alternately nursed one fingertip after another. Materials that obscure the hook point yet need to be coaxed backwards on the shank – like hackle or chenille, invariably put those precious highly-trained, coaxing fingers into Harm’s Way. 

The pain starts to register after it’s a quarter inch in – giving you a hint you should stop applying pressure – but the follow-through is still enroute, so the second quarter inch is just a bonus. Once the point encounters the back of your fingernail it slows down some …

I’m thinking that a standard hook set would drive a #14 Humpy clean through the trout’s skull – and with a bend designed to keep the corpse attached – telling the warden, “I didn’t do it” will be a bit of a dance – what with the lifeless parr-marked corpse bobbing nearby.

Tying on these requires the vise to grip the bend of the shank and none of the point, or just the point and none of the bend. With a 10 degree offset, grabbing both point and bend will bend the wire, removing the kirbed portion and possibly weakening the wire.

knapek Dry #14 The points are fiendish, much longer and sharper than what I’m used to – and beaked, turned up to hold onto the flesh its just violated.

They adhere to traditional Redditch sizing – which I like much better than the Tiemco / Mustad standards. Both the Tiemco 100 series and the Mustad 94840 / 3906B are about 1X longer than they should be – and the Knapek are sized true like the older and shorter Partridge, “Captain Hamilton” style.

In short, I’m in love – not the sappy “chick flick” kind, more of the sinister sado-masochistic thing – and with piercing all the rage, I can wait till “Mr BB-Lip” finishes wowing the girls with his fourteen piercings, then I can recount the last thousand I endured …

I’m not so sure the Masai might not induct me as a full blood brother…

Unlike Bell Bottoms this kind of tacky is a good thing

It was a crash course in paraffin, beeswax, petroleum distillates, herbal additives, and tropical fruit – none of which I’d anticipated with such a mundane bit of research.

I’ve gone through three sports, two industries, and a half dozen hobbies – hoping to find something special, and found that the ignoble Beeswax remains right up there with the tackiest waxes known. I found better, but the toilet ring from the local hardware store is still among the top waxes available.

As described in an earlier post, wax usage is on the decline – limited to those geezers like myself that learned prior to the debut of specialty fly tying threads and pre-waxed nylon. In those days small thread was size “A” – and most of it came from the sewing trade.

Part of the candidate pool

Desirable characteristics include being soft enough to use with materials other than thread, non-staining and colorless so it doesn’t change the material, non-oxidizing – so you can leave the cap off and the material doesn’t harden, and cheap as dirt – so you can indulge in obscene rituals without breaking the bank.

10 different surf board waxes and three different temperatures later, it’s safe to conclude that feet and flies don’t share any similarity. Surf wax is much harder and less tacky than Beeswax and is only a bit softer than candle wax. It has a light “tack” to the touch, is cheap – less than $2 per block, and is available with the best range of scents; Mango, Banana, Bubblegum – but no Nightcrawler or Salmon Egg, which would’ve tilted my research instantly.

While disappointing, it only whetted my appetite, knowing that somebody somewhere had a malleable wax with enough surface sticky to make fly tiers happy.

Casting and the mold making “lost wax” process uses a repair wax that’s soft and somewhat sticky, sold by the pound it fit only the malleable and cheap criteria.

40 Rivers mentioned bow wax, used to lubricate bow strings; it’s soft enough but it’s dual purpose – to adhere bow string filaments into a single strand and to lubricate the pulleys and gears used in modern compound bows. There’s many different kinds and was the sole industry distinguishing between sticky and tacky.

Bow strings (both crossbow and compound bows) are made from a diverse mix of fibers, including many synthetics like Dyneema. Some waxes use a mixture of wax and silicon, others use Beeswax blends designed for older bows. Silicon suggested even more possibilities, being the dominant component of liquid dry fly floatants and many common pastes. A fellow that ties mostly dry flies might want to yield some sticky in lieu of a wax with water resistance and minor floatation qualities.

Bow wax is worthy of additional study.

Magician’s use tacky wax for palming cards and other magic tricks. Like bows and surfboards, dozens of different varieties exist – each touted as stickier than most or stickiest. Small balls of this semi-transparent white wax are concealed in the magician’s palm, allowing him to press the hand against the deck and remove cards.

These waxes are perfect for traditional thread work, quite sticky to the touch and will enable a thread to load considerable fur without assistance. As the wax sticks to everything; human skin, paper, fur, beer cans, etc., and is colorless and odorless – it’s perfect for fly tying.

… I suspect it’s stolen from another industry however, and as additional candidates were delivered the Holy Grail became clearer…

Museum wax.

Department 56 Tacky wax, Museum quality Designed to attach precious artifacts to glass display cases without staining or adding residue. Also called “Miniature Wax” – used by those hobbyists that delight in recreating the battle of Waterloo with lead soldiers, spending months building battle scenes complete with miniature foliage and regiments of soldiers, all of which is secured to the base substrate with small balls of semi-transparent white wax.

A white wax that sticks to absolutely everything …

Department 56 “Tacky Wax” was one of two finalists. Department 56 is known for miniaturized Christmas villages and provides a complete line of miniature building materials for hobbyists. Retail is $2.50 for about 1-1.5 ounces – and can be found on eBay for less than half retail. Like all eBay items it’ll be available at many prices – some more than retail, so wait for your price to appear.

Bard's Tacky Wax, six ounces suspended by a finger Bard’s Tacky Wax is another museum grade display wax, looks identical to the Department 56 product and is extremely tacky. It’s comparable in price to the Dept 56 product, but is also available in 6 ounce tubs for about $9.50.

The picture at right shows the six ounce container suspended by the grip of the wax on my finger – plenty of tack to suit us fly tying fiends – something Beeswax was unable to reproduce …

Both are perfectly suited for fly tying. Soft and malleable allowing you to press a feather into the surface, works exceptionally well on thread (once removed from the container), and both are odorless and colorless – allowing use on white or light colored materials, and doesn’t oxidize or harden when left with the container open.

Neither are derivatives of Beeswax – as they lack the “greasy” feel at room temperature common to Overton’s and the venerable toilet ring, which are Beeswax based. Handling the wax will add “tacky” to your fingers without any apparent residue – also different than Beeswax – which adds “sticky” and visible residue.

I suspect many of the Magician’s Wax products are actually miniature wax decanted into different containers. Comforting to note that fly tying isn’t the only hobby scrounging elsewhere for materials.

I’ll decant wax from the containers and encase the ball of material in simple saran wrap, exposing half to the elements for brushing on thread, while handling the wrapped side. Simply close the wrapping around the ball when leaving on your bench so it doesn’t pick up trimmed material from the work surface.

Wax is one of those materials never made for fly tying – merely lifted from another industry and decanted into a more suitable container. Brown waxes are traditionally blends of Beeswax and other compounds, white waxes can be paraffin based or an entirely different synthetic compound.

Synthetics offer tackiness without the room temperature greasiness of Beeswax nor the slight discoloring inherent in a darker wax. If you’re dissatisfied with your current fly tying wax you might want to look into either of the above museum waxes as an alternative.

Oxidation suggests a little caution is warranted

It’s one of those odd-duck materials that fills a need – only the need is ill defined. It’s a warning klaxon to us life long accumulators – we’ve learned the hard way, define the need before reaching for the 6.5 lb bulk spool…

I’ve been struggling with a lucid description for days; it’s akin to the rubberized “snot” that attachs your credit card to it’s stiff paper backing when delivered in the mail. Wrenching the plastic off the paper you’re left with a long swipe of transparent rubbery slime on the back of the card which peels off as a single piece.

If that isn’t awe inspiring I’m not sure what is…

The most recognizable name is Stretch-Magic, available as a bead cord for elastic bracelets and necklaces. It’s the only reason I dared take a chance on a rubbery material – as I’m still smarting over the Latex Craze of the mid-80’s.

Stretch Magic & Stretchy - a knock off

If you remember everyone was tying latex flies; peeling the skin off of golf balls and pestering their dentist for Latex Dental Dam – thin sheets of rubbery goodness that made spectacular caddis worms…

… spectacular that season, the next year you opened your fly box to find oxidized fragments and bare hooks. Like everyone else I’d succumbed and had a drawer that looked like the bottom of the potato chip bag after someone sat on it.

I learned a hint of caution around rubbery…

Stretch Stone Amber

I dropped $2.50 to test a spool, then went to eBay to see what I should’ve paid – found a generic knockoff in Korea for $2.00 for 10 spools, in hot pink.  I banged out a dozen Shad flies which were quickly ate – and buoyed by success I scored 8 more colors from China for a total of 99¢.

Stretch Stone Yellow

It’s available in 1mm, 0.8mm, 0.7mm, 0.6mm, and 0.5mm, and is a really tough gelatinous ribbing material. The fiber is round in shape and takes marking pen well, allowing smaller sizes to be used as rubberlegs on nymphs as well as traditional body material. (the flies shown above #8’s using 0.6mm and 0.5mm)

Close up of the body On most patterns I’ll stick a dubbing needle between coils and yank out the underbody. Slick and glassy looks great in a magazine – but I like scruffy and dirty, and have never had much luck on flies that seemed stiff and glossy.

No solid entomology to back my assertion just personal preference.

Whatever is underneath the material will influence the final result, factor the color of the underbody with the color of overlay chosen. On Shad flies I used silver tinsel to turn the body into a glowing pink, the above flies used gray dubbing as the underbody.

I’m working on solving a Damselfly dilemma for next week’s adventure, having a rubbery lifelike material appears to fit that paradigm as well – one of a number of damsel possibilities I’ve got to test.

Me fiddling with the material and it’s success on Shad does not a season make – so be cautious if you purchase some; start with small amounts of black or clear and try it on a few patterns. If it’s intact and remains supple after a year in storage, you may consider buying a few more colors.