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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chain_Gang_Espresso_Claret

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

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

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

How to torment your fellow fly fisherman and wind up in a foreign prison for a decade

Archaeopteryx Everything PETA has ever said about me is true, although I am mellowing a bit with age …

The thought came unbidden, I’m reading about the hundreds of birds that remain unseen by human eyes, and have never been catalogued by Science, and visions of something more brilliant than Blue Chatterer, more vibrant than Indian Crow, dance like sugarplums before my eyeballs …

( … and don’t blame me for the Christmas reference, it’s not yet time for Thanksgiving and yet the entire merchant class has determined you should start shopping already … )

Now that the statute of limitations has worn off I’m allowed to mention some of those dark secrets confessed to guides. We’re often seen as a combination of Mother Theresa and hardened psychologist blanch.

Myself and two other guides were charged with escorting a party of six producers, screenwriters, and directors from Hollywood. Part of an annual outing where each fellow was responsible to pick a fishing venue and book lodging and guides for the entire cabal for three days of fishing.

Each fellow was also required to one-up the fellow before him, by finding some rare or unique material that would be incorporated in a custom fly tied for the entire group. The member who caught the largest fish on the unique fly, won bragging rights for the subsequent year.

As this had been going on for some time, it was an effort to one up the last guy – and niceties like legality and societal constraints had long since been discarded in pursuit of rare and even humorous …

That year the host had found himself in a museum in Mexico, and when the curators weren’t looking had pulled a six inch strand of wool from a serape owned by Pancho Villa…

Naturally it wound up as the body material for a couple dozen dry flies, which were distributed among the contestants. Now that I was party to the dirty little secret, my job was to find a big fish with a yen for a hundred year old dirty gray #14, and record the catch so my two fellows could claim victory.

I thought that was just about the best contest I’d heard about – right up until the release of Midnight Express and six or seven years in a Turkish prison made me rethink yanking a tuft off of Tutankhamen’s burial shroud, which was at the DeYoung in San Francisco.

… and neatly explains my sudden yen to visit the Philippines in advance of all them scholarly birdwatchers. The first fellow to spot a Blue Fanged Fidget, can insist flies just aren’t the same with a tawdry dyed substitute.

… and the only fellow that may be able to one-up a bird never seen by science is the fellow that trips over a frozen million year old Archaeopteryx, recently exposed by global warming.

Where we touch on fly fishing theory aided by the Commutative Law of Base Mathematics

A valid theorem packed with fact If you think it’s because of the preponderance of green, or the gold tinsel rib, or because the river’s full of them and they’re about this size, or exactly seven turns of lead, or the dark barred grizzly collar, or the sun being off the water, or whatever you insist makes your fly an absolute killer, you’ve developed an original and possibly valid theory.

… and you’ve every right to insist on respect, as conjecture on why fish ate something can never be validated via direct testimonial, and therefore remains untested and inviolate.

In all of recorded angling only a single such theory has been elevated to  fact, as it can be proven without testimonial. A single theory whose outcome can be predicted with uncanny accuracy, as it’s roots are in base math – removed from fishing taint entirely.

“I caught all my fish on a #16 Adams.” ( I only carry one fly with me, it’s a #16 Adams, and it’s the only fly I tied on during the entire day, but its legendary killing power is a secret known only to me, hence my utter confidence in the fly.)

Most of your pals lose interest immediately, as your fly is at best successful only due to math, and not to any innate quality of the local insect population, or weakness of the native trout.

It’s the Fool’s Gold theorem, and any fly can be imbued with killing qualities if fished long enough. It is best practiced in the final phases of an angling career – in concert with sunlit benches and the welcome embrace of a couch.

Mostly it means the practitioner is unwilling to countenance change or variation at any level, doesn’t realize that whether the Adams chose him – or he chose the Adams, (A+B=B+A) the end result is the same.

… and he likes baseball, as every baseball fan knows …

“Never ‘fuck’ with a winning streak.”

A desperate attempt to prop up a dying pastime

Hunters and Fishermen all I was surprised to learn that next month’s elections will have four states choosing to add hunting and fishing as constitutional rights; those four possibly adding to the ten that already have passed such a statute.

Apparently political correctness is very much alive and well, and the recent success of newcomers like the Tea Party has caused us few remaining outdoors types to ensure our sporting heritage isn’t compromised by some photogenic charismatic and a few choice sound bytes …

I’m thinking it may be overkill, but I’m often wrong.

I’d always assumed that once men found out that farmed Tilapia were steeped in enough hormones to change their sex, even the animal first-er’s might grip crotch and demand wild-caught everything.

Tilapia often contains an artificial male sex hormone that is absorbed by humans when eaten. Because male tilapia grow faster and are more lucrative than females, the fish are often treated with the hormone to induce a sex change.

Then again, Mom does most of the shopping …

With animal-friendly organizations litigating everything involving hunting or fishing as a wildlife control, it neatly explains why us fishermen are never called to defend native fish from invasives – or why Rotenone is the preferred fishery management tool, versus us lawn chair predators and our bottomless ice chests.

I’m not so sure we’re not in a gunfight already.

The new initiative synthesizes Friends of Animals’ tradition of opposing hunting and predator control with scientific evidence pertaining to coyote behavior and ecology, thereby fostering respect for coyotes in Pennsylvania so that these animals may live on their terms. Our campaign will promote respect for coyotes as conscious beings, and educate people about the role of coyotes in the local ecology and how communities can support alternatives to the lethal management of coyotes.

I’ve never doubted that coyotes weren’t conscious beings, they’re one of a few species that successfully negotiate the rural-urban interface, and can be found living in some our largest cities.

I just cannot understand why us hunters and fishermen, who celebrate the outdoors – who ask our respective legislatures and representatives to save a little water for wildlife, or please don’t pave the entire state – save a small corridor of greenery so them tasty quadrupeds can enjoy some small dignity … before we blow daylight where daylight shouldn’t be. Why does it always fall to us killers to propose less freeways, strip malls, and civilization?

All around us, nature is being managed to death, with malls and freeways taking its place. Animals are being driven from the land on which they were born and concentrated into smaller areas and blamed for a laundry list of ills they never created. It’s time for communities to call for ceasefires, and reverse a trend that’s bad for all of us…

Ok, here it comes – less development so the community will have precious open space where the animals can frolic – and have unprotected sex …

… Community leaders should deliberate on the facts, seek and nourish what’s best in our community, and keep recreational and controlled hunting, deer contraception and sharpshooting out of Westport.

… nope, we’re keeping hunter’s away and embracing the Wal-Mart Superstore. We’re not passing out freebie condoms, and begs the question – how many of these stalwarts would buy guns if threatened with bulldozing their home so deer would have a dab more forage space.

Who knew a Mullet had such a flair for showing off

Tossing a trash fish onto the bank is a time honored angling tradition. It’s been frowned on of late, but the Asian carp has brought back the practice along with baseball bats, shoulder pads, and now with easy to clean wading boots with cleats and rubbers soles, we’ve even resurrected the River Dance … of Death.

… because like terrestrial cockroaches, it’s them or us.

It doesn’t jibe well with the Catch & Release ethic we’re so fond of espousing, but clean water and black dots seems to cloud vision making some fish more equal than others …

Special regulations apply to trash fish as well, but many are not bothered by hurling lesser fish to an excruciating death, gasping out their final moments on some hot rock amid boot heels, curses, and giggles.

While I don’t ascribe to the above practice, we’d like to point out that those that do probably throw a baseball like a girl, grunting when they do ..

 

Considering the world’s record is an astounding 196 feet, the only question is whether that record is held by the fish, or by the thrower – or is it a joint venture?

“A very official world master’s record for a mullet,” Bradstock said in an interview with the New York Times.

Bradstock also claims to have hurled an iPod 154 yards, a mobile phone 132 yards, a soft boiled egg 118 yards, a football 82 yards and a golf ball 180 yards, with all but the mobile phone footage available on his YouTube page.

… and here I thought all tournament fish were released gently.

The Marlboro Man does Catfight

Once the fishermen find out it’s an island they’ll scatter to the four winds hoping they can scrounge some old monofilament and feed the less fortunate members of the tribe. Once they see the size of the local Bonefish they’ll insist on Catch & Release – or some form of ultra-purism – which’ll piss off the camera crew and producer, who’ll trade an off camera Bologna sandwich to the swing vote – sending Mr. Fisherman packing …

My money is on the hunters. Fishermen are wound too tight and lack the social niceties to survive the group scene. They’ll skip the all important backstabbing alliances; “I’ll give you my last pair of dry socks if you vote for Betty” whispered at the council fire, and then disappear for hours when they should be doing tribal chores.

You knew they would do it

Another in a long line of trashy reality shows, pitting 12 outdoorsy types against insurmountable hardships like; running out of shampoo,  not wearing a cowboy hat, throwing a temper tantrum at a Chevron vending machine,  keeping a Boy Scout Troop pinned down while rifling their foodstuffs, and exposing the lean Marlboro Outdoorsy is prone to fits of childish rage when wearing a grass skirt in mosquito country, without any protective mint Skoal …

“The Ultimate Sportsman” slated to air Thursdays at 10:00AM EST, 2010 on Versus is a premier hunting and fishing reality
TV series. Twelve contestants will have the opportunity to participate in a series of hunting and fishing adventures
throughout North America.

You can apply for the freebie fishing via their website. As a film of yourself is involved, you may want to practice that steely grimace – where you discover salmon eggs are mixed with your JuJuBee’s …

It’s plain these fellows don’t know the difference and don’t care to know.

13) If you were going to be in People magazine, what inside info about you would be put up next to your picture?

17) List your past experiences with hunting and fishing. If you have no past experience with hunting or fishing then explain your
intentions for wanting to be introduced to the sport of hunting
and fishing!

… and don’t really care, they’re mining ratings and are desperately seeking drama queens in camoflage. I think they’re hoping someone will respond as below:

Hunting and fishing seems like a lot of fun, but I actually prefer running around a darkened campsite brandishing sharp objects and wearing a hockey mask.

Throw in some poor sport blowing daylight through a doe, and two fellows caught stuffing lead shot down a trout’s gullet – and it’s pure ratings gold.

Anglers rise to it without reservation, the Royal Nutritionist

For the last couple of decades it’s been as much fly fishing tradition as Jungle Cock, or Mallard flank. That pre-dawn car full of hopeful careening up the interstate before John Law pacifies it once again ..

… and the fellow in the back that hasn’t yet discovered he’s forgetten his reel, who caroused far into the night despite our warnings not to – and suggests one last civilized breakfast is needed and he’ll be fine.

Proximity to the creek means four guys racing to be the first to dampen boot, and one fellow trying to keep that civilized breakfast down. By Sunday, it’s three guys getting in some last licks, and one fellow hoping that meal will come out – at any cost.

With good reason, considering the campground Porta-Potty may be the next Valley of Kings …

Happy Meal Day 1

A recent non-scientific experiment suggests that same fine breakfast, when left on the sink, would not change significantly over the following six months. With plenty of photographic evidence to back the claim, little wonder there’s always one member of your party incapacitated completely, and the balance in some culinary-gastric hell they’re trying to fight through.

Happy Meal Day 180

Outside of the bun getting a bit pale, I can’t see much difference.

Contrasted with the righteous indignation us anglers displayed when fish DNA was being modified, yet we’ll gladly inhale genetically modified taters and irradiated beef patty without so much as hint of protest …

I guess our DNA doesn’t count.

First you take a deep fried potato skin then coat the bottom with styrofoam …

With all the recent furor over genetically modified fish, most have forgotten that the first commercially modified fish, the GloFish, was sold to kids as an techno-Goldfish …

Back then there were no pickets nor angry protestors. Fishermen didn’t see the genetically modified fish as much of a threat, largely as their kids were too busy hugging the adorable little tyke …

Big Arsed Goldfish

But like all pets eventually someone tires of something, and flushes it down the commode …

… where it isn’t so adorable – now that it’s developed a taste for children.

Chicken Scalps, large dollars, fly tying and dry flies merely add a pretty face

grizz Many would say that nothing in fly fishing is more addictive, the lure of the surface fly and the visual take. Most would insist that no component of fly tying is more expensive, as the surface fly and accompanying visuals come at a horrific price.

A novice stands in front of the abyss, the friends and expertise of the fly tying class a distant memory, the cautionary advice forgotten, and the long wall of genetic hackle menacing, unfamiliar, and incredibly expensive.

Need is well defined; brown and grizzly for the Adams, Humpy, and Western flies, ginger for the light Cahill, and medium dun for the Quill Gordon and most of the east coast. Price precludes grabbing one of everything, and there are a dozen capes labeled #2, each the better part of a hundred dollar bill – whose shade and cut look similar, only which one to buy?

Is someone going to yell if you take one out of the package? Do I really want to learn to tie flies? The book said to press the barbules against my lower lip, the instructor said to buy saddles, and that fellow mentioned Leon’s Coque made the best tails – I don’t seem him anywhere, and the sinister looking fellow at the register doesn’t seem interested …

… I could use some help!

Forums are ablaze with questions about hackle; where is it cheapest, which is the best-est, and how can I get the most-est – interspersed with; which do I want, what should I get first, are saddles just as good, and the ever-present, “… the guy in the book said …”

Like everything else on the Internet, there’s much wheat and even more chaff.

Chicken Necks – Past to Present

Compared to the past there is much less variety on the wall of the local shop. Most fly tiers are introduced to genetic chickens in their first tying lesson, and rarely encounter capes from China and India – which dominated the trade in year’s past.

Most of the non-genetic hackle goes to the costume market, where they’re made into long feather boas in both natural and brightly dyed colors. India capes are about a third the size of our hormone laced genetics, and Chinese capes are typically about 50% larger than India necks, but still markedly smaller than what Whiting packages.

Occasionally you’ll run across some in fly fishing stores, but not often. Instead you’ll find Chinchilla necks, that mimic the color and pattern of Grizzly, but have irregular barring and a hint of brown in the black markings. As large grizzly hackles have many uses including bass and saltwater flies – and are adored by costumers, it’s the most common non-genetic sold.

As well as the Indian or Chinese capes, you can encounter a semi-genetic flavor. Some grower that’s attempting to perfect a strain or color to compete with Whiting, whose flock is not yet into that rarified zone commanding ultra-high dollars. These are often Grizzly also, as dyed Grizzly in any size or length is quite saleable.

Packaged saddle hackle is still dominated by non-genetic chickens, in large part because eating chickens are raised by the millions and all are white, or off-white, much easier to dye than naturally colored chickens from off shore. Most are hens, but white roosters still abound in great numbers. Genetic roosters must be fed and pampered for two or more years to yield those foot-long saddles, our domestic rooster is likely to live about half as long before it becomes a MSM chicken.

“MSM” is “mechanically separated meat” – which is a process that yanks non-prime elements like lips, snouts, and pucker off the bone once it’s been boiled into softness. It’s commonly known as a Chicken McNugget, or Hot Dog.

Many shades of Awesome

Parts of a Genetic Neck Today’s tiers still insist on the finest, cheapest, and best – but they’re picking between “great” and “fantastic” in comparison with the past. Dry flies always required two (or more) hackles in the 80’s, and a typical size #16 was about 1.5” long.

If you were lucky there was a couple dozen in the inch wide nape of India cape, unlucky and you tied mostly #12’s and above.

The worst of todays genetics would have driven tiers into paroxysm’s of joy. It would of been something to stroke or trot out to the amazement of the rest of the crowd, left pristine or given a female name and worshiped.

Those vendors that grade necks – and mention their methodology – use feather count to determine #1’s, #2’s, and #3’s. More feathers per inch yielding more flies tied, and increased value to both breeder and fly tyer. The grade given by the breeder can be ignored. Simple feather count may be useful to differentiate one chicken from another, but it’s not an adequate measure of value to the fly tyer.

Fly tier’s are unique. Each is a different mix of favorite flies, favorite fish, number tied per year, and most common size fished. While feather count has some meaning, so does cut of the neck, color of the cape, and shape and size of the feathers too large for dry flies.

Cut of the Neck: An improper cut usually comes at the expense of the tailing material. Tails are from the right and left edge of the neck’s shoulder, markedly darker and stiffer than the rest of the cape, shaped like a “spade” versus long and skinny, and can be too few to tail all the dry flies the hackle can produce.

Color of the Cape: Color is responsible for probably half of the purchases, especially if the color is uncommon or rare. Color would also describe other visual features such as dark barring, light barring, or black tipped – such as Badger and Furnace necks. Dun necks are particularly valuable in different shades, and is often purchased for the color alone.

Shape and Size of the Feather: Genetic necks make poor hackle tip wings, largely because of the narrowness of the feather. At the tip a slim feather can be quite small and the effect lost amid a thickly hackled fly, especially on Western flies which use much more hackle than their Eastern counterparts. Some genetics can offer a wider large feather which may be suitable for hackle tip wings, and this quality weighed in the purchase decision.

Feather Count: It matters certainly, but is best used to select a candidate tuned to your fishing, not the single criteria that drives purchase. (I’ll have more on the subject below)

How to select the best Neck

The most common size tied should be high on the neck, not down at the narrows Most fly fishermen tie many more flies than the traditional dry, and often fish for other species in addition to trout. It should be no surprise that there are many great necks offered on the rack, but the best neck may have qualities unique to the tyer, with “best” differing from one angler to the next.

The dry fly capable hackle may only be spread over 30% of the genetic cape, why not consider the other 70% as part of an overall grade?

If the tier has a split season, or fishes for multiple species, the shape of the large feathers may dictate his steelhead hackle, bass poppers, or his large saltwater flies. Some necks may be suited for tying these flies more so than others, based on long narrow feathers, or extra wide webby hackles, or just wide blunt tips for wings. A fly tyer conscious of his planned double-use may find the best neck is a combination of his dry fly needs, coupled with his other interests.

… and the grading system used to price the necks, has less value when averaging all the requirements.

You have to remove the neck from the packaging to examine it closely. There should be no objection from the shop staff, but you’ll have to be considerate and not mangle the cape in the process. Both necks and saddles are often stapled to cardboard backing. Flexing the cape a lot will start pulling at the staples – and may even add a bend into both feathers and backing. Your proprietor will not mind a casual exam, but would prefer your hammy-handed tendencies not mar the package permanently.

Each fisherman has a “most common dry fly size” that he uses, and an examination of his fly box will reveal what size that is – this will be our examination criteria for neck selection.

Find the most common size used : Flex the neck just enough so that the feathers lift off those behind, and find the horizontal line on the neck containing your unique “most tied” size. A great neck will have that area in the widest part of the cape, not down low on the narrow isthmus area. Wide equals more feathers, and ensures your most common flies fished match the neck you’re purchasing. It’s very simple, as higher up the cape means better in every cases.

Examine the tailing area : Now examine the shoulders of the cape to ensure the cut has preserved both areas of darker tailing material – and the two regions appear as mirrors of one another.

Examine the larger feathers for optimal uses : Take a look at the shape and size of the larger feathers at the top of the cape. Ensure they match any other use you’ve planned. For hackle tip wings you want broad rounded points, for steelhead hackles you’ll want nice dark barring and the appropriate sizes present, bass poppers should have nice wide feathers to assist in moving water, and saltwater or Pike – perhaps length is the only criteria.

Ensure the color extends to the webby area : On those necks where color is a primary requirement, ensure the desired color extends down through the area you’ll peel off and discard. Avoid those whose color at the tips is perfect – but the color doesn’t extend far enough down the feather.

If you’ve satisfied the criteria above and selected the neck that’s the best fit for all, you’ve got a great neck. Now look at the price, as vendor grade and price is the least important of all.

If it boils down to a #3 and a #1 that are the final two, buying the #3 will the better choice … “a good deal” being the last check on our requirements.

The Neck versus Saddle debate is Over

A Whiting Medium Dun Saddle Necks are no longer as compelling as a quality saddle patch. If you’ve marveled over a 12” #16 hackle you’ll understand what I mean. Necks have been considerably refined from the days of the India cape, but saddles have come even further, to the point where #16 hackles can be a foot long – or even longer.

A quality neck may feature 30 or more hackles that match a single size, perhaps another 15-20 that are a bit too long, or a bit too short. Assuming you get about 50 feathers suitable for a #14, and it’s often one feather per dry fly, the neck has exhausted the supply after four dozen flies.

Take a similar quality saddle with hackles 10-11 inches long, and you can get 3-4 traditional dries with a single feather. If a saddle has more than a dozen such feathers you’ve equaled the capacity of the more expensive neck, and whatever remains is why saddles are a better deal than necks.

I’d suggest that a quality saddle can produce 15-20 dozen flies in the same size versus 4 dozen for the cape.

I converted to saddles some three years ago, the down side being there’s no tool or container on the bench to hold scraps of hackle that’s seven inches long …

But nothing is the Perfect Feather

Saddles offer greater value, but there are pros and cons with both necks and saddles, and it’s important to understand all the issues.

Necks:

Stiffer stems, greater variety of sizes, tailing material present, wider feathers, blunter tips, hackle under size #18 available.

Saddles:

Flexible stems, fewer sizes, longer length, no tailing material present, narrower feathers, needle tips, no hackle under #18 available.

Each of the attributes mentioned above has a corollary in tying that will either be hindered or assisted. Probably the most important difference between necks and saddles is that no tailing material exists on saddles where it is plentiful on necks. Perhaps the fibers on the largest saddles can be long enough for tails, but they are not the hard, shiny, fibers present on the shoulder of a chicken neck – they are much softer by comparison.

Having dozens of left over capes lying around, most of which are missing the small trout hackle, means that I can find tails on older necks and use the saddle only for the hackle that supports the fly.

In summary, a tyer needs both – but necks are likely to be upstaged by saddles via cost and additional capacity.

While genetic feathers show no signs of relinquishing their grip on the hackle market, there is still plenty of uses for a non genetic neck or saddle, only they’re becoming increasingly hard to find. Both hackle tip wings (Grizzly) and large well marked feathers are still in great demand on many styles of fly, and while we get increasingly spoiled with better and longer hackles, we’ll still need plenty of the regular feathers to handle the ignoble tasks other than holding up a dry fly.

Each fly could be a big fish or a new friend

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

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

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

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

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

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

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