There is a place for generalism on spring creeks and tailwaters. For times when un-matching the hatch is the best way to catch trout, I carry a fly box filled with attractors and standard patterns that don't imitate anything in particular. This is my most precious fly box filled with Royal Wulffs, Humpies, Adams, Parachute Adams, Stimulators, and other traditional dry flies from size 10 down through size 20, and I guard it with my life. Whenever I travel to distant waters, I make sure it goes too. My favorite time to use these patterns is when there isn't anything else on the water, when visibility is too difficult to see other patterns, and when there are so many naturals on the water matching the hatch would be impossible.

It was a typical September day on the Henry's Fork. At 8:30 a.m., as I walked downstream through the grassy meadows, Trico spinners swarmed in a final mating dance, forming mist-like clouds along the stream bank. The fishing had been tough, as it usually is with Tricos. The feeding frenzy lasted about two hours until the last of the spinners had fallen. I had managed a couple of good trout using a size 22 quill-bodied pattern with spent hen hackle wings that matched the naturals almost perfectly.

Later there were just enough Callibaetis spinners and mahogany duns to keep the trout interested. When there are just enough larger mayflies the fishing can be easy, and it was. It was a matter of getting close and making the proper presentation. I had my best success with a size 18 Mahogany Dun No-Hackle, but I think an Adams would have worked equally well.

By midday the tiny Baetis mayflies started to emerge, and by early afternoon they blanketed the water. Early on I caught a couple of trout with an exact imitation, but eventually the surface was so densely covered with tiny mayflies that it looked like a scum on the water. It was time to change tactics.

A Time for Attractors

Early in the hatch, when there are only a few insects on the water, trout aren't usually selective. Later, when they start to feed on the hatch, they can get tough. When they key on a certain stage of the hatch, they look carefully at each insect that drifts into their window of vision. The trout are likely to take almost every mayfly that comes by, but you better have the right pattern because you know the trout will take a very close look. As the hatch intensifies, trout begin to settle into a steady feeding rhythm. When hatches are heavy, trout don't need to focus on each individual insect. When the surface is carpeted with mayflies, trout conserve their energy by rising at calculated intervals, paying less attention to specific insects. Sometimes the mayflies are so prolific that trout gulp several insects with each rise.

That's when the fishing gets tough. Even though you have precisely the right pattern, the trout isn't likely to see it unless you get it to him at the exact time he is coming up to take his next fly. Timing is critical. Another problem is that the feeding zone narrows when more insects are on the water. During heavy hatches trout usually hold very close to the surface where their window of vision is narrow. Instinct dictates that there will always be insects to feed on no matter when trout rise, so they don't move very far from their feeding lane to take a fly. That doesn't mean the trout will hold in the same spot. In fact, one of the challenges you'll encounter on spring creeks is that the trout will start to move around more as they feed. Couple their feeding rhythm with their cruising, and you've got a real problem.

Now let's throw some more fuel on the fire. If you are going to match a tiny fly exactly, so that the trout can't tell the difference at a few inches, how are you going to identify your fly twenty-five feet away? In my early days, when my eyesight was sharp and honed, I could see my fly seventy-five percent of the time. Twenty years ago I can remember guiding older fishermen and wondering why they couldn't see a size 20 No-Hackle at only twenty feet. Today I can identify with them completely. Sometimes, about the only time I can see my fly is when it is dragging through the middle of all the naturals.

When the surface is blanketed with tiny mayflies, matching the hatch perfectly can really be a handicap. You must do better than match the hatch. If there are forty-nine tiny mayflies per square foot of surface area, and you've matched the hatch perfectly, you've just created fifty mayflies per square foot of surface area. When trout really get into a feeding rhythm, they rarely rise more than once as two or three feet of water passes over them. That means they let dozens of naturals pass over them between each rise. It can take dozens of near-perfect casts before the trout sees your fly and decides to take it.

I've seen anglers scratch their heads and change flies over and over again trying to get it right. In reality, the trout they were fishing for probably never even saw any of their flies. If the fly didn't arrive at the precise moment in the trout's feeding rhythm, it probably didn't get noticed. If the fly was a proper imitation, chances are the angler didn't see it more than half the time. If you can't see your fly, not only can you not tell when a trout takes it, but you also can't tell if it is drifting naturally or if it is in the trout's feeding lane.

In these kinds of situations, I've found a highly visible attractor pattern can work. In my experience, trout are not normally as selective to pattern when tiny insects blanket the surface. When they get into a tight feeding rhythm, they usually don't scrutinize their food before they take it. If, when a trout starts to poke his nose up, there are ten naturals in the area, you might get better results if your fly looks different from the naturals. Not only is the fly easier for you to see, it is easier for the trout to see.

Continue Reading "Unmatching the Hatch"   1 2 3 4