Fly Fishing: Tying and fishing as you like it...not neccessarily what's best...

When I began tying some of the first patterns I mastered (relatively speaking) were traditional wet flies...you know the winged sort. How-to info being scarce, I pretty much relied on Ray Bergman's Trout for fly recipes. For the uninitiated, the fly plates/recipes in the book show dozens, if not hundreds, of patterns...If there were any left out, I can't imagine not being able to come up with a suitable substitute.

Traditional wets are, to my way of thinking, just about the niftiest trout flies around; only traditional salmon flies can match their gaudiness and tied right seem to me come about as close to art as any.

Naturally I fished most what I tied best. But after awhile it became clear the best fish getters were wingless...soft hackles. Though I don't think were called that at the time, at least not in our neck of woods. I'm pretty sure we just lumped them together as wet flies. Label aside, soft hackles were way easier  (for me, getting the duck wing slips just so was a bitch to put it mildly) and since, at least in my mind, worked better tying wingless was something of a no-brainer.

These days I tie flies of every sort--dries, emergers, cripples, soft hackles, nymphs, streamers, you name it. I like tying dries and soft hackles best. I like fishing both equally well. But, especially on small streams, our usual SOP is to fish dries up and swing soft hackles back down. Yes, I know, not the best way to max out the body count but...As a wise man once noted...a lot more to it than just catching fish...or something like that...

On another track, I use Zelon in a lot of patterns these days. And for what it is ( seemingly readily available synthetic and all) thought it rather pricey. This winter as I poured over the J. Stockyard catalog preparing my annual re-stock order I discovered a substitute (MFC) which is considerably cheaper...being a bona fide cheap skate in such matters I thought to order a hank...Bottom line I really like the stuff--cheaper, way more material,  looks and seems to work just as good...can't beat it.

PS If old news please note: A by God geezer...I do claim the right to being, you know, slow on the uptake....

Fly Fishing: Rookies Get the Slam...

...well sort of. Yesterday, thanks to a rather complex plan I had the pleasure of guiding 3 Norwegian rookies...none of which had ever held a fly rod before...to a Big Hole Slam...sort of...Catching brook, brown, rainbow trout, grayling, whitefish and the "sort of" part, at cuttbow which I would have liked to call a pure strain cutt but in all honesty could not...though I doubt the Norwegians could have cared less, did not really understand the long odds of 3 rookies accomplishing even a "sort of Big Hole Slam" on their first ever venture into fly fishing and all on dries no less...OK not really a big deal but damn nifty in my book...

Arctic grayling, this one taken on a soft hackle another day by the way...

I am pretty sure all three enjoyed the experience, were elated at their success, remain somewhat mystified at some of the many nuances involved in becoming a complete fly fisher, not the least of which coping with a strong afternoon breeze which we all know makes anything like an accurate cast, proper drift, etc. damn near impossible...but to their credit the trio hung in there did the best they could and even hooked a few more wind be damned...

Fly Fishing: The Quack Coachman

Royal Wulff/Brown Wulff (click to enlarge)

The Hair-wing Royal Coachman, aka Wulff Royal Coachman, or the more common label, Royal Wulff. was not the brainchild of Lee Wulff as is commonly related. Rather, in 1930, it first fell from the vice of Reuben Cross, a well-known and talented fly tyer, at the bequest of one Q. L. Quackenbush a disciple of the venerable Beaverkill Trout Club. As the story goes Ol’ Quack’s beloved Fan-winged Royal Coachman had fallen from grace largely due to the fly’s notorious frail wings. Looking for a better mousetrap so too speak he engaged Cross to build a more durable version. Cross tied up some using stiff, white, kinky-haired impala tail hair for wings and the rest is as they say history. 

Blond Wulff/Ausable Wulff (click to enlarge)

Call it what you will “The Quack Coachman,” as it was lovingly christened by his fishing pals remains even today one very effective dry fly; a must have to complement any dry fly box. Ditto all of the Wulff Family—which over the years has grown considerably in number to now include Wulffs of just about every conceivable color variation. Commercially Wulffs are tied from huge size 8s and 10s down to itty-bitty size 22…anyway the smallest I have ever seen. While I find the smaller sizes quite useful, and highly effective at times, I find tying any Wulff smaller than a size 14 to be…well, a royal pain in the arse. Since I don’t tie ‘em you won’t find many itty-bitty Wulffs in my meager collection. So there you have it…

Fly Fishing: Bugs n' Brookies

 

October 21, 2006 while fishing a lake in Manitoba this lucky angler landed what turned out to be the largest brookie ever...29 inches long, 21 inches girth, estimated weight between 15-17 pounds. Because the beast was later released it goes into the record books as World Record Catch and Release and since it was taken while trolling a Rapala on unofficially tested line it stands as the All-tackle record. Anyway you look at it tis one helluva brookie, eh? Photo courtesy Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame

No, that's not me drooling the record brookie. But now that I think on it perhaps the date 10/21, my birthday, really is an omen that someday soon...Nah!

More our speed, no doubt having much ado with our increasing devotion to pitching dries.

Truth is, in a career now spanning 6 decades and counting, despite having chucked first baits, then hardware and, for many years now, flies, to more brookie holes than the law should allow, having hooked literally thousands in the process, I can boast just two might...I repeat might...have gone an honest 18-inches. OK, honest is something of a stretch, since neither was actually taped. But 18-inches or whatever, naturally I recall both historic moments vividly (sort of) even though much water has flowed beneath the proverbial bridge since.

Small streams are just plain fun...and challenging...true story.

A Parmachene Belle, a classic wet fly supposedly first tied to fool the giant brookies once swarmed Maine's Rangeley Lakes region, accounted for the first. The catch could have been classic in every sense but...For starters it wasn't even caught in Maine but at the mouth of small tributary of Ontario's Lady Evelyn River. But what really makes the catch pale in the classic sense...I snagged it.

Beaver dams and fat brook trout go together like apple...well, you know

Sad I know but true. Trolling a big slow pool in the main river past the creek mouth, littered with beaver cuttings, Dick Byrem, in the bow (me in the stern) hung up. Nearing the end of a long trip and dangerously close to running out of flies, breaking off was not an option. Lines trailing, we bent to the paddles, turned the canoe up river, paddled like hell to where Dick reached down and pulled the flies free. As the canoe once again turned down river my line came tight and what turned out to be the trip's biggest brookie splashed the surface. Obviously other than the fly, classic, even bragging rights, hardly apply.

A few years later, again trolling (no idea what) behind a canoe, although this time in a Quebec lake (sorry the name too is long gone), I landed another bigger than we (Billy Eves and me) were accustomed.

Ingenuity helps...

As always no tape so, nothing left, Billy brought forth a dollar bill. For the uninitiated, a U.S. dollar bill measures a hair over 6-inches. Nose to tail he declared "3 bills" so...

I can't say how widespread this dollar bill trick but, in our case, it played a significant role. Early on, actually for many seasons, brookies made up at least 90% of my catch...truth be known really small brookies. Catch and release having not yet found its way into the Pennsylvania hollers, naturally we kept any trout of legal size; the idea of course bragging rights went with catching the daily limit, which I think back then was 8 per. Anyway the minimum legal size being 6-inches, the OM issued a dollar bill at the start of each adventure...As yes, where dollar bills were concerned C&R was well ingrained and indeed not an option as in...boy, make damn sure I get it back, ya hear.

Gale style, up close and personal, obviously pays off...

As any true blue trout nut knows the brook trout is not a true trout but rather a char. It is native in the northeast, down the Appalachians to Georgia, in the upper Midwest and in eastern Canada. But these days brookies swim just about everywhere trout swim; some say they have been transplanted to more places than any other fish species. Here in Montana, trout nirvana to many, " brook trout as natives" is a common refrain. Sorry, not so...

In the literature of fly fishing for brook trout it is de rigueur for the reporter to wax poetically on the beauty and allure of the fish itself.  For example, one breathless scribe painted them, "the aphrodite of the hemlocks." Sounds good, but...Mr.Webster notes, "Aphrodite" as the Greek "goddess" of "love" and "beauty."

Sorry my man, this is one case where in the category "good looks" the male, especially when bedecked in his spawning finery, wins hands down...no contest.

Why brookies, when there are far larger trout out there to be had especially considering in many of our best waters 18-inch browns and rainbows, while probably not dime a dozen easy, catching one certainly won't turn many heads. Well, one thing, we like a little solitude with our fishing, these days a really rare item. But the real reasons: brook trout and good country is a given; most rank high among the last best left on the planet.

Beauty (of the beast) and scenic aside, a typical day fishing the backcountry (wherever) bird and water song fills the clean, sweet-scented air, wildflowers and wildlife at times so abundant it takes real tunnel-vision to maintain focus on the task at hand. Realization on my part there simply was no hope, I no longer consider a missed take as call for despair.

In a typical Montana season Gale and me catch brookies by the dozens (hundreds probably but who's counting). After all we fish often; fish mostly brook trout strongholds; and brookies being notoriously easy pickings...how could we not?

These days the Parachute Adams is often the only fly we bother to tie on...Lazy? Yep. Effective? Usually so...

True most fall into the sub 12-inch category with a handful 13-15-inches and the occasional, maybe one every couple years, 16-17-inches. Still evidence abounds of far larger out there. The state record is slightly over 9 pounds (Lower Two Medicine Lake, 1940). While it seems unlikely the record will be broken anytime soon ( maybe not ever) breaking my personal record seems a definite maybe...more a matter of time than anything. Close to home (Dillon) the upper Big Hole and Georgetown Lake harbor such hefty individuals as do many others...I know of a couple 3-pounders mounted on local living room walls said to have been hauled from Big Hole tributaries. One day last spring my friend, Steve, buggered several 15-17- inches from a single run. So who knows, maybe if I just keep chuckin', eh?

Fly Fishing: Big Hole River

Floating the Big Hole of late is more a drag...literally...than a float trip. But the good news is most days the fishing is pretty good. Yesterday dawned chilly, with heavy cloud cover rain seemed to be more a matter of when than if...

Joe is one of the better fly guys around and like many of the good ones prefers to fish dry. So when I rigged up a bobber and nymphs, while he didn't say so he was clearly disappointed. But as we made our way painfully (for this ol' boy) and ever so slowly down the skinny river it soon became clear the trout were not much interested in munching nymphs. 

To me switching to dries seemed an even worse idea but since Joe had voiced his displeasure in having anything to with streamers why not...

Well so much for bad ideas...almost from the get go it became evident the trout were indeed looking up. And the top water action continued pretty much non-stop all the to the take-out. Though the curious thing most of the takers were on the small side...But with so many takes Joe could hardly quit grinning long enough to bitch...How many? Who knows for sure but I'd say at least 40, maybe even more...all in all turned out a fine day to cast dries and yes, there were a few hefty enough to put a severe bend in the ol' fly pole. Even caught a grayling and a couple whitefish, imagine. And we did get rained on but the brunt of the big storm went elsewhere...thank you rain and thunder gods.

For me though the day's real highlights were five moose sighted...three, a cow with two little babies in tow, I nearly hit when they burst up from the willows onto the frontage road below Melrose. Then on the way home in nearly the same spot another cow and a yearling calf...thank goodness this pair stood their ground on the field side the fence. Been sort of moosey actually as a couple days ago we spied a bullwinkle and few days before that two big bulls.