WHERE I BELONG

Why would a trout postion its feeding lie inches off the far bank, in a five foot space, between two overhanging water birch limbs with submerged branches?

I found out as I gently placed a blue-winged olive imitation right behind the upstream set of branches. The imitation mayfly sat motionless for a second, then slowly started downstream. Its migration was stopped when I saw the head of a trout pop up through the water's surface tension. I knew he was a good trout by the size of the head. Plus, the take was deliberate and subtle; not the splashy rise of the smaller trout I had caught earlier. I lifted the rod tip and watched the slow seam of water erupt into the air. The good-sized brown trout followed. I put pressure on quick. The trout had two options: head upstream and into submerged branches or downstream into submerged branches. Either way, I was in trouble. The trout headed downstream which made sense. Upstream the water was shallow, downstream the water was deep. I figured a trout this size had moved up out of the deeper water to feed. I tried to horse the trout out into the open riffle where I was standing, but he was smart and fast. I watched as he rolled around in the submerged branches. He had snagged me up. I waded closer to the sunken trouble. The trout spun a couple of more times and then darted downstream into the deep water. He was gone and my fly and leader was hung up in the branches. I retrieved my fly and came away with catching a gob of moss. It didn't matter. My wife had tagged along to take some pictures and after four photographs of earlier caught smaller trout, the camera batteries had gone dead. This trout was destined to be a fish story.Winter seemed long to me, even though it was a mild winter, and one with below normal snow. Getting out and finding a Spring blue-winged olive hatch was very much needed. I had spent my lunch hour watching feeding trout the day before the outing. The hatch started at about 2:00 PM. I watched several trout and made mental note of where the larger ones were feeding. I went back to work and dreamed the rest of the day, and into the night, about getting back to the river the next day to fly fish. I awoke early and tied some flies to match the hatch. I knew the best fishing would be in the afternoon so I spent the rest of the morning helping do yardwork at my parent's house. At noon, I went home and ate a quick lunch. I invited my wife to go with me and to take some pictures.

We arrived at the area I planned to fish and I quickly put on my waders and rigged up my gear. I felt like a kid as I strung the rod and tied on the fly. I was excited. I mentioned to my wife, the excitement I felt. "Why, after all these years of fly fishing, do I still feel so excited about it?" I asked. It was really an unanswerable question. I'm not sure I know the answer, so I didn't expect her to have one either. The question was my way of letting her know fly fishing still fascinates me and brings me a joy and satisfaction I don't get in my "normal" life. She knows that already and accepts it. In that regard I have been lucky. She has always allowed me to go on my fly fishing adventures, only questioning my propensity to go alone so often. Still, she accepts it and understands it in her own way. On this outing, I waded the river and she walked the bank. With each missed trout or hooked trout, I would glance back at her and smile. It was fun to share the smiles and a couple of hours together. In so many aspects of my life, I have a tendency to look back and wonder how I ended up where I am. I sometimes wonder if I could have been more than what I am. Should I have been a doctor? A lawyer? An indian chief?  What would that change? Standing in the river, and knowing of the joy, happiness, serenity, and excitement I still feel when pursuing and catching trout, I realized I was right where I belong.

ATTACKING A STONEFLY HATCH

I admit it. You have to remember, I was a teenager at the time. I was wading up a river just after run-off had dropped it to a safer level. With fly rod in my right hand, I reached into a willow tree to get my balance. I glanced at the branch and reached for it at the same time. I jerked my hand back and a shiver shot up my spine. The willow branches were crawling with some type of large insect. My initial response was to get away from it before the bugs swarmed me, but running in waders was not my forte. Beside, the bugs seemed harmless once I took a second look. Still, they scared me. I was unfamiliar with aquatic insects at that age. I figured they were some type of locust, or worse yet, an invading alien army; small creatures from another planet hiding out in the canyon near the river waiting for the rest of there kind to arrive. When they had amassed the proper numbers, they would take over the world. Like I said, I was a teenager and I liked science fiction.As I became more observant, I noticed the dried remains of another insect on the streamside rocks and clinging on the lower reaches of the willow branches. Something weird was going on. Whatever these winged insects were doing, they had wiped out another species. The dead remains were everywhere. I watched as one of the live bugs took flight. It was not a pretty sight. Flapping its wings madly, it slowly gained altitude, and moved out over the water. It headed upstream but I could tell it was not comfortable being airborne. Just as I had that thought, a robin darted out over the water and plucked the clumsy bug out of the air. There was hope. The invading aliens could be controlled by birds. Seagulls began to appear flying overhead. They too were eating the insects out of the air. It was amazing. Whatever these creatures had planned, it was being stopped, atleast to some degree, by the birds. The world would be saved, and I would learn through study, and by talking to other fly fishers who were more knowledgeable than me, all about the life cyle of the stonefly, Pteronarcy californica. (See, even the scientific name sounds scary.) As with most western fly fishers, I became interested in the stoneflies. They have held my interest for over thirty years now. Each year I look forward to the hatch of these big aquatic insects and spend some of my winter nights tying up the patterns I use to attack the hatch. I have found that you have to spend the time necessary to know when the hatch will come off, and then don't give up on it. Plan to fish the big nymphs before the adults show up, after the adults are around, and then after the adults are gone. Mixed in with the nymphs, know when to start throwing the big dry fly imitations, and don't stop throwing them just because the hatching adults are not found anymore.This is how I attack the stonefly hatch. On my local stonefly waters, I know the hatch can occur anytime from the first couple of weeks in May through the first couple of weeks in June. Experience tells me that most of the time I will see the hatch mid-May to the end of May. I start driving to the river the first few days in May. I check the willows for adults. I look on the base of the willows and exposed river rocks for dried nymph shucks. I will turn over a few stream rocks and look for live nymphs near the edges of the river. I will do this daily if I can. If I have time to fish I will start to throw the big nymphs and gauge how aggressive the fish seem to be. If they are aggressive, then I assume the nymphs are starting to migrate and the fish are getting used to seeing a few. If the fishing is slow, I figure the fish are not seeing quantities of the nymphs yet. Eventually, I will be at the right place, at the right time, and the stars and planets line up and I smile. The adults will be in the trees, the fish have been feeding on the nymphs, and will soon be used to seeing some adults on the water too. Adults will end up in the water by losing their grip on streamside foilage, wind gusts, birds misjudging them in flight, and mishaps during mating and egg laying. When I fish a dry stonefly, I will cover a lot of water. I cast close to the bank and then work out toward the center of the river hitting all likely seams and pockets. If the water looks particularly fish worthy, I will make several casts, but most water I hit with a few good drifts and then move on. I figure if a trout is there and he has taken a few naturals, then he will hit my imitation. If I'm nymphing, I give the seams and runs a little more effort, especailly if they are deep with good undercut banks. Some fly fishers will use a dry dropper rig. This can be a good approach if you are better at setting up the rig than I am. I seem to spend more time untangling and trying to cast accurately and it takes away my enjoyment. I love to fire the dries around  and up under overhanging foilage. Watching a trout come out and up near overhanging brush always gets my adrenalin gowing. It seems the biggest trout take these secure lies and hooking one and then keeping him from snagging in the brush adds to the excitement.The patterns I have pictured here are some of my favorites. I like the way they look and enjoy the durability. I don't know if they are any better than some of the simple ties, but they have been effective enough for me that I keep on tying and using them. The nymphs are tied on size six and eight hooks. I like the Tiemco 200R style or something equal. The dry flies are tied on size four and six hooks with 2X long shanks. I have equal success with the air-filled and twisted foam bodies. I have determined that silhouette is the key factor when tying and fishing the large stoneflies. These patterns catch that important feature. As the title of this peice says, I like to attack the stonefly hatch. It is one of my favorite times to be on the water. I fish these patterns aggressively. I am stubborn and willl stay with them and fish them hard. I just have to believe the trout want to eat these bugs. They are the steak and potato meal the trout have been waiting for. I love to cater up my imitation meal and almost force them to eat if I have to.

Fly Fishing With Rock Worms

There is no doubt that trout eat caddisflies in their larval and pupal forms. It is interesting to note that they also eat caddisflies of the cased variety when available.


As a youngster, I was often given the chore of cleaning the day's catch and preparing them for the table. During the cleaning process my dad would tell me to cut open some of the stomachs to see what the fish had been eating. "There are rocks inside them," I would say. "They've been eating rockrollers," was dad's reply. Being ignorant of entomology at that age, I was left to assume, as I did for several years, that trout were like birds and needed to eat rocks and pebbles to help grind and digest their food. Over the years I have learned that these rocks were the remains of cased caddisfly larvae, and trout eat them case and all.


Let's take a look at some of the patterns that have been developed over the years to imitate cased and non-cased caddisfly larvae and pupae. In 1925 Franz Pott of Missoula, Montana, was issued a patent for an artificial fly called the Rock Worm. It was made as a definite attempt to imitate the larva of a caddisfly. The weaving process was tedious and the pattern only enjoyed a short life. This is interesting to note because it shows that fly fishers in the 1920's were aware of cassisflies and knew them by the common name rock worm. Pott went on to create his "mite" style of hair hackled flies, which gained a strong following in the Rocky Mountain region.


The mite style gets its name from the hellgrammite, which is what early fly-fishers in the West called the stonefly nymphs they were finding in many of the river systems. The stonefly nymphs were similar to the dobsonfly nymph (hellgrammite) that they were familiar with from the East.


Many of Pott's mite flies resemble caddisfly larvae more--in color, size and silhouette--than they do the stoneflies. Trout probably take them for caddisfly larvae and emerging pupae. The reasoning behind this assumption was brought out by George Grant. Grant lived through this period of fly-fishing history and was very familiar with the Pott patterns and their history. Grant suggests that, "Almost all Montana anglers were wet-fly men before 1950." The techniques employed by wet-fly fishers include the up-and-across dead drift method, the down-and-across swing method, and the hand-twist-retrieve method. These techniques imitate the behavioral drift and emergence of some species of caddisflies.


In Fly Fishing the Rockies by William C. Black (Pruett Publishing, 1931): a paragraph compares the Pott flies to caddis: "...Caddisflies were always plentiful on the South Fork....free swimming caddis pupa, the immature form between the larva and the adult fly, has long trailing legs and antennae, very much like the stiff, bristly conformation of the Pott's flies. The color and size match happened to be quite close too, and further, the trout sometimes hit an actively manipulated nymph with great eagerness, as if it were a swimming pupa."


Another reference to the Pott's flies as a representation of caddisflies can be found in Fishing the West, Macmillan Company, 1950, by Arthur H. Carhart. Carhart writes that Pott began tying his own flies because the ones he bought were not durable enough. "This led to his tying his own flies, and one of the natural foods he tried to simulate was an insect locally called the rock worm. The color varied, in different locations, from a sandy color to almost black. Instead of the soft feather hackles which lie against the body of the fly when wet, Pott tied in a stiffer hair which would give the lure some motion and would stand out so the hook point wouldn't get caught so readily in rocks and other underwater obstructions."


There have also been attempts to imitate cased caddisflies. Paul Young began tying a pattern called the Strawman. The original Strawman was tied with loosely spun deer hair along the shank. This was clipped to shape, and a yellow floss rib was wound through the hair and tied off behind the hook eye. This pattern is tied to imitate caddisfly larvae that use small pieces of bark and sticks to make their cases.


Charles Brooks tied a fly he called the Skunk Hair Caddis. It was tied to imitate caddis larvae thet build their cases out of small stones and grains of sand. The fly is tied on a 2X long hook shank in size 6 through 10. The secret to tying the fly is to find a skunk tail that has hair fibers at least 4 inches long. The fly has a copper rib that helps hold the hair together after repeated chewing by trout. The rib is tied in at the front and wound toward the rear of the fly and then back toward the front again. The skunk hair is twisted and then wrapped forward forming a segmented body. The fly is finished off with one wrap of a soft, black hackle. Charles claimed, "It is the best cased caddis imitation I know of, and has taken many fish for me over twenty some years."


In more recent years, fly tiers have used peacock herl, clipped hackles, twisted yarns, pheasant tail fibers, turkey biots and a combination of these materials to form cased caddis imitations. An interesting example of a cased caddis imitation, called the Garbage Can Caddis, utilizes all the waste materials from a tying session of different patterns. I first saw this tied by Jack Dennis. Jack took a pile of "garbage" out of his tying trash bin and spun it into a small rope between a loop of tying thread. After this was twisted tight, he wound it on his hook shank, tied it off, and then trimmed the material to shape. With the combination of deer hair, elk hair, moose hair, feathers, scraps of yarn, tinsel and dubbing, the finished fly makes an attractive artificial cased caddis.


There are species of free-living caddisflies available to trout predation also. These caddis have been imitated with twisted yarn bodies such as the Serendipity, or with more complex woven bodies, such as those tied and fished by the Polish International Fly Fishing Teams.


Fly tiers can make an effective cased caddis pattern by using a chain-stitching technique.


The Chain-stitched Rock Worm is a pattern that imitates a caddisfly in a sand and small stone case. By varying the colors of flat waxed nylon thread, a tier can duplicate the color of cases found in any stream. The size of the case can be controlled by adding or deleting strands of waxed nylon thread as needed.


A collar of color should be added to the pattern just in front of the case. It can be a small pinch of dubbing or a few wraps of floss. This is an important feature. In his book Caddisflies, Gary LaFontaine explains: "The study of the actual caddisfly larvae drifting with the current revealed a number of previously unknown characteristics. The main trait betraying the insect as a live food was the movement of the larva in and out of the case. The wriggling motion exposed a contrasting band of body color between the head and case." The band of color most commonly used is bright green, yellow or tan. Try to match the color to the caddisfly you are trying to imitate. A soft hackle should be added to the pattern just in front of the colored collar. This will simulate legs and help create lifelike movements.




This article first appeared in Fly Fishing & Tying Journal, Summer issue 1999 by Robert Williamson

Still Fighting For Utah Water Access

Here is a link to the current information on water right access in Utah. If you can help by donating, please do. Thank you to Bryan and Chris for all the time, money and energy they have sacrifised in this effort.

http://utahwaterguardians.org/

NEW BLOG

Instead of clogging this fly fishing blog up with non-fly fishing related outdoor adventures, I have started a new blog to write about "other" outdoor activities.
http://www.crossingopenground.blogspot.com/ will be a place for musings about hiking, mountain biking, running, and wandering and wondering about nature. It's in it's infancy; you are welcome to watch it grow.

A Nice Note about the Chain-stitched Mayflies

"I've finally had a chance to fish them now that fall is here. I used them on the south fork of the snake recently with good success. Couple notes: Being comparadun style, I had much better success in the run out of riffles where the water was calmer. They would sink in the rougher water of the riffles. In areas where they would float, however, fish took them willingly, sipping gently and not suspecting a thing. It was a lot of fun. The only thing I might do differently is the tails. I'd consider something stiffer, like microfibbetts. The tails on the fly (not sure what they were made of) tended to stick together when wet. All in all though, a great imitation and a lot of fun to fish. Thanks again." :)

-Mike Silver


Thanks for the report Mike. I sent patterns out to several individuals each year and rarely do I hear back. Nice to get a report. This pattern was created for smooth water. I was trying to get something that would imitate the silhouette of the naturals for picky trout. As for the tails, I have noticed the same thing. The tail fibers are made from the same material as the body. I have started to stiffen them up and make the split more distinct by running a little super glue up them. I use a small amount on the end of a bodkin so my fingers don't stick together.

Saying Goodbye!

I peered through the willows that lined the bank of a small, clear creek and watched as a 12-inch cutthroat trout moved from side to side, picking small dark mayfly nymphs from the current.

I was rigged with a brown stonefly imitation which had proven effective on this creek for years. I found a small opening that provided enough room to cast and crawled hand and knees up next to a sizable tree. I slowly stood up keeping my left shoulder snug against the tree; blending into the setting as best I could. I lengthened my line with false casts to allow the fly to float down into the trouts feeding lane.

The cutthroat continued to sip nymphs as my stonefly landed about ten feet above him. The fly drifted down toward the trout as I mended line to keep a natural float. The fly was right on target and came directly into the trout's view. My arm became tense in anticipation of the fish's strike. The cutthroat did not move as the fly passed his snout. I let the fly continue to drift past the fish and began a slow hand-twist-retrieve so I could cast again.

I didn't want to disturb the water by a quick pick-up and risk spooking the cutthroat, so I slowly worked the line in and brought the fly up into the shallows on the creek edge. Suddenly, I noticed a flash of color a few feet below my fly and watched wide-eyed as a different trout raced toward the fly. The fish slammed into the fly with its back exposed, out of the water, producing a wake that sent the cutthroat trout racing upstream for cover.

I set the hook and stared with amazement at the 18-inch brown trout thrashing up and then down stream. This was a powerful fish and was not interested in giving up. Again, the fish tugged line as it tried to head down the creek putting pressure on my shoulder.

I held the brown for a second to admire its length and girth. It was a beautiful trout. I sat it in the shallows and watched as it caught its breath. I was doing the same. It moved toward the middle of the creek and deeper water. I thought I saw it roll its eyes back and pause for a second--maybe not. I waved goodbye anyway.