Recently in Fishing Flies Category

As Nick Mills observes, the question of whether one has too many flies never surfaces in the fly fisher's mind. Instead, he wonders only whether he will have enough boxes to hold them. And he offers this sage advice regarding holiday gifts: "Our dear Saint Nicholas, while a sterling chap in many respects, does not seem to know the difference between a Royal Wulff and a Disco Midge, so if you send a wish-list Poleward, be very specific as to pattern, color and size." In Maine Outdoor Journal.

Egg patterns, as common wisdom has it, are most effective during the fall and early winter when trout and steelhead feel the impulse to gobble up anything resembling roe. But devotees will tell you that they turn heads almost any time of the year. And when you consider that they are among the most easily tied flies, yarn Glo-Bug-style egg patterns are well worth considering as you sit down at the vise this early winter. In this week's video, Charles Meck shows how to tie one of his favorite Glo-Bug-style flies, the "Steeler."

Excerpt: "Two professors from British Columbia did a study in 1973 and they fed trout eggs in a trough, and they put in different color eggs. When they used one color only, they found that trout hit a blue-colored egg before any other color. But when they put a combination of colors in at the same time, trout fed more actively when they were fed black and yellow at the same time."

Morgan Lyle doesn't wrap lead around the shank of his Gold-Ribbed Hare's Ear, but instead places it on both sides to give the nymph a flatter, fatter profile. Is it a better fly? Believing probably makes it so. "I've never been a good nymph fisherman, but I've made it a goal to get better. Having a fly I trust helps a lot, because nymphing takes a lot of faith." In the Schenectady, New York Daily Gazette.

George Grant, first known for his contribution of a distinct method of weaving hackles in the 1930s, passed away on November 2. Grant was much more than a fly tier. He was an ardent conservationist who contributed greatly to the protection of important rivers and helped ensure that stream access and protection laws were written into the books. His took up the causes of the Big Hole and Clark Fork rivers long before environmentalism was popular in Montana, and the facts that the Big Hole is the longest free-flowing river in Montana and that the Clark Fork was returned to life after years of mining pollution are largely due to his long commitment.

From Wikipedia: "Grant was one of the first anglers to realize that large trout fed primarily beneath the surface on nymphs, and that one needed to imitate and learn to fish this insect-stage if one wanted to consistently catch large trout. Grant's nymphs imitated primarily large stoneflies such as the giant salmonfly (Pteronarcys californicus), which grows up to two inches in length. In recognition for this work he received the Fly Fishing Federation's coveted Buszek Award in 1973."

"Color is a big consideration when choosing or making flies, and yellow is a time-honored fish catcher. The most obvious example is the Mickey Finn streamer, with a silver tinsel body and a bucktail wing in yellow-red-yellow. The Humpy is a classic attractor-style dry fly that's most often tied in yellow. And I've had great success on autumn browns with a yellow Woolly Bugger." In the Schenectady, New York Daily Gazette, Morgan Lyle points out that yellow is popular not just among newsstand browsers but big trout as well.

Fly fishing writer Morgan Lyle talks about the second annual issue of Hatches magazine, which launched in 2007 under the direction of Will Mullis and which features Al and Gretchen Beatty as editors. "Mullis has stocked the first two issues of Hatches with fresh, beautifully illustrated pieces on trout flies and how to fish them. Chris Del Plato's exhaustive piece in the 2007 issue on tying the Carrie Stevens-style streamer flies from the Rangeley Lakes region of Maine, most notably the Grey Ghost, sent me scurrying to my Tupperware bins to rummage for golden pheasant crest and wood duck." In the Schenectady, New York Daily Gazette.

The Foxboro, Massachusetts Bass Pro Shop gets this week's award for the most inventive way to get folks interested in fly tying. Personally, I'd love to see a surgeon-controlled robot out-tie the experts, if only to feel a bit more confident during my next visit to an operating room. But I'm not so sure a robot can transfer the mojo necessary to make a fly great -- even if for $1.6 million you'd think it should be part of the deal.

Not that anyone can afford to tie this fly -- or would want to, given the heavy metals content -- but at least now we know that the editors at the big tech blogs spend time trolling fly tying boards.

"It's the circle of life, really: man drops iPhone in river while fishing, iPhone dies, iPhone is torn apart, iPhone becomes fishing lure, iPhone catches dinner. Life goes on." Via Gizmodo.

"The strategy was simple: Cast flies to the bank or to nearby log structure. Hit the dark water and fishy places under overhanging trees. Then impart a realistic action to the fly by stripping and pausing so the fly suspends in the current imitating a distressed minnow." One of the best parts of this article by Howard Meyerson is the photo of the smallmouth flies he and guide Leo Wright were fishing with: Dahlberg Divers, Clousers, and sharp-looking microfiber CK Minnows. On MLive.com.

New on MidCurrent: Norm Crisp's video on "Collecting Stream Life for Better Nymph Fishing" is filled with tips for capturing subsurface bugs and improving your fly selections.

EXCERPT: "When you pull up that rock, if there is any current at all, as you pick it up and turn it over and move it around, suddenly those insects that were crawling around are going to be subject to far more current than they see in the stream and they're going to float away. You're not going to see what's really out there. So what we always like to do is to take a little kick net, put it down in the stream, reach upstream ahead of it, move the rocks around as much as you can, and let everything wash down into the screen."

As Morgan Lyle notes, before fishing with a single dry fly became the ultimate test of trout-fishing skill, tandem rigs were commonplace. While fishing the West Branch of the Delaware, he becomes yet another convert. "Blue-winged olives with size 18 bodies and tall smoky wings were on the water, but I didn't see any of them taken by trout. I became convinced that the rises were being caused by trout feeding on emerging mayflies approaching, but not yet in, the surface film." On New York's DailyGazette.com.

Pick any river lined with grassy banks and it's hard to go wrong with hopper flies in the heat of summer. Add wind and you have one more ingredient in what can be fabulous mid-day fishing. But as Eric Sharp points out, there are still a couple of things you can do wrong. One is to ignore the local hoppers' colors. The other is to choose the wrong size. "One mistake many anglers make is the same one they make with Hexagenia mayflies -- using imitations that are far too big. If you hold a grasshopper up to a hook gauge, you see that even the biggest are usually No. 2-4 in length, and most are about 4-8. You don't have to exaggerate the size to get fish interested in hoppers -- the insect equivalent of a submarine sandwich." In the Detroit Free Press.

Ed Engle writes of the awe inspired by Tricorythodes swarms. "What really distinguishes the tiny trico is that it hatches almost every morning from mid-June to September in astronomical numbers. Or more precisely, the females hatch every morning in astronomical numbers and are then joined by the males, who have already hatched in astronomical numbers overnight and are waiting patiently in the grass for mates. Once the females get into the air, they join up quickly with the males in what are called mating swarms." In the Boulder, Colorado Daily Camera.

Steelhead bum Rob Brown gets an unpleasant visitor who leaves behind a fly with seemingly magical abilities to get trout to bite. "As the house filled up with smoke, Hans told us of his numerous angling achievements and of the laudatory reviews they had received in the European angling press. It was obvious he'd read these reviews more than once and that he took them very seriously." On British Columbia's TeranceStandard.com.

How to tie a Klinkhammer Special.

"Edward R. Hewitt is credited with modifying an existing spider pattern in the 1920s into what he called the 'Neversink Skater Fly' (named after his home river, the Neversink in New York). Essentially all he did was reduce the existing spider pattern, which had a tail and some other extraneous parts, to its fundamental elements, which were two extra-long, stiff rooster spade hackles tied onto a fine wire, short-shank, size 16 hook." Ed Engle gives talks about Edward R. Hewitt's popularization of spider patterns and offers tips on how to tie and fish them correctly. In the Boulder, Colorado Daily Camera.

"The silt-laden water clears and as water levels fall, temperatures begin to rise. When the water temperature hits a steady 55 degrees, a massive bug known by entomologists as Pteronarcys californica -- the 'Giant Salmonfly' -- crawls out from underneath the rocks it has lived under for several years. It climbs out of the water where it breaks free of its aquatic body, sprouts wings and a brilliant orange torso and flies into the bushes for a massive mating ceremony." Alex Taylor writes about the massive stonefly emergence in Colorado's Black Canyon National Park.

But we particularly like the fly recommendation given by Nam Le in his report on the Cimarron Creek Web site:

"Went to the forks on Friday. It was great. Went into ute on monday. It was great. Went into duncan wednesday. It was great. Everything on top and there was a lot of big fish feeding on top. Just get down there, but load up on flies first. Flies/Methods Used: Chunks of foam. Tattered pieces of hair. Unraveled pieces of hackle. Anything that resembles a stone."

For a truly artful perspective on the annual event, check out Felt Soul Media's trailer from "The Hatch."

As the Hex hatch makes its annual march across the U.S., a spate of articles on how best to match these giant flies made their appearance this past week. First there was Eric Sharp telling folks not to tie their flies too big: Hexagenia limbata are not the size of small airplanes.

Then Ken Allen wrote a characteristically detailed piece in the Kennebec Journal on hex hatches and how they fit into the Maine fly mix, where they are often confused with green drakes: "The sole big deal about misnaming the bug strikes anglers with entomological knowledge as obvious. A true green drake (Ephemera guttlulata) is a different size and color than a Hex, so if you tell a fly fisher - say from Pennsylvania or even Portland - that he or she should bring Green Drake dry flies to a Hex hatch, the chosen pattern will be smaller and much greener than a Hex imitation."

Finally Paul Reynolds queries Eastern Hatches author Tom Fuller, whose answer on differentiation makes it apparent why the mistake is often made. "The differences between the Eastern Green Drake (3 tails on the dun) and the Hex hatch (two tails on the dun) are at best subtle. The Eastern has mottled wings, the Hex doesn't have the mottling, but does have veins. Coloration and size really depend on the waters where they're found and the fertility. The real difference is the double gills found on body segment #1 on the Hex. The Eastern nymph has single gills on body segments 1 through 7."

As if standing in water up to your navel at midnight weren't enough to keep the mind agile.

Artist and author James Prosek is enticed to fish for toothy machaca on Costa Rica's Rio Nino with an unusual proposition: they will use flies made to imitate nectar-rich flowers. "Gorinsky's first imitations of the flowers, tied with various dyed materials on hooks, were failures. They became waterlogged quickly and sank, or they did not have a convincing-enough profile on the water to fool the fish. But after much experimentation, he found the perfect material to tie his flower flies -- the bristles of cheap plastic dust brooms he bought from children on the street in San José, the nation's capital." In The New York Times.

"A Joe's Hopper was tied to my three-foot leader that tested eight pounds. This is no place for delicacy: keep the leader short and stout. Wispy leaders seldom can keep a big night-feeder out of the log jams or sweepers, and big fish are strong and heavy in the current." Dave Richey hunts down a hex hatch on Michigan's AuSable. In the Traverse City Record-Eagle.

Charles Meck offers an excellent rundown of trico (Tricorythodes) hatches in the U.S., including listing the biggest seasonal activity and the best places to find and fish tricos on both sides of the country. Here's an interesting tidbit on why you'll spend most of your time matching the olive-bodied female dun rather than the males: "Have you ever seen a male Trico dun? If you have you probably haven't seen many. Why? A few decades ago Robert Hall conducted a study of the Trico for his doctoral requirements. In that study he found that male duns often emerge from 10 P.M. until 2 A.M. So, don't worry about matching the male dun. The olive-bodied female dun emerges from 5 A.M. to 11 A.M. depending on the weather conditions and the time of year."

Tricos begin coming off earlier in the U.S. east than they do out west, and the challenge often becomes finding cool-enough air temperatures, as Bill Ferris points out on Cumberlink.com. "Unlike many other mayfly hatches the trico hatch begins along about July 5th and on any given morning until the first hard frost the little mayflies flutter over the riffles on many of our trout streams and trout rise to eat them. I'm told that the first hatching insects are about a size 20 and as the season warms through summer the size diminishes to about a 24 or 26. I can't see to tie a size 26 fly on my tippet so the smallest I tie is a size 24 but mostly I compromise and simply tie 22's."

Arkansas guide John Berry says that when it comes to high water, a San Juan worm and an egg pattern are perennial favorites among knowledgeable anglers. Besides, they are both incredibly easy to tie. "San Juan worms are the easiest fly there is to tie. They are essentially a strip of ultra chenille lashed to a hook. I tie two versions, a low water and a high water. I tie the low-water version on the Mustad 37160 hook (English bait hook). This is a heavy wire, wide-gapped hook that has an incredible amount of holding power. The hook is so heavy that it sinks like a rock particularly in the larger sizes. I tie them in size 8 and 16." In the Baxter Bulletin.

"Not to sound unappreciative, but it looked a little, well, effeminate to me with it's pink chenille body and gold ribbing. But I didn't say so to Gifford. In fact, I tied it on to my tippet as a gesture of appreciation for his thoughtfulness. I knew that if past was prologue, I'd snag the little, limp-wristed pink job on an alder bush by the third or fourth cast anyway." V. Paul Reynolds's doubts about his friend's fly are erased by ravenous brook trout. On RedOrbit.com.

The legendary Hexagenia limbata hatches that cause midwestern snowplows to come out of hibernation and make bridges unsafe in early summer are also one of the least predictable "macro events" in fly fishing. The only real answer, according to Eric Sharp, is to fish more. "At one point, a fish started rising closer than the length of my nine-foot rod, and when I dapped four feet of leader on the water I got an instant strike from an 18-incher. I'll never forget that night. However, I would rather forget the 200 or so other nights when the Hex hatch produced a few trout of moderate size, and the 100 nights when I got absolutely nothing." In the Detroit Free Press.

Looking for something to occupy your time during the runoff hiatus? Try damselflies, says Charlie Meyers. "In that eternal search for evidence of a just and beneficent God, we present for your consideration a simple insect, the damselfly. At precisely the time when rivers are overflowing their banks and the high country remains wedged in snow and ice, this compassionate being sends relief to frustrated fishermen in the form of what may be the perfect bug." In the Denver Post.

One of the truisms about fly fishing is that it provides fodder for endless debate, self-limitation being inherent in the sport. Often the focus of disagreement is whether or not a particular piece of gear, technique, or fly is legitimate. Since there is no central governing body of all things fly fishing, no rules committee or international court of appeals, and since fly fishers are probably more inventive than most other sorts of anglers, every so often the classicists rise up in anger over the introduction of a "new way." And that, many would say, is how it should be.

So it is with the latest fashion in England, which involves the use of "blobs," balls of fiber that are stripped through the water and have upped the catch rate considerably on English lakes. (You can see blob fly examples here and here.) "England fly-fisherman Jeremy Lucas said while the use of the blob and the booby - a brightly coloured lure with polystyrene 'eyes' - could encourage novices, it was 'repulsive' to see them used by experienced fishermen. He said: 'Most of us would wash our hands of it. It reflects fly-fishing in a very bad light.'" Keith Perry in the U.K. Telegraph.

On Oregon's Lower Deschutes and other western rivers, anglers wait for the annual phenomenon of the salmonfly hatch, which typically lasts only a couple of weeks. Paul Hansen, owner of the Riffle Fly Shop in Warm Springs and Bend, gives his advice on how to fish the early emergence of salmonflies, which, unlike mayflies, escape the water by crawling to the edges of rivers and streams. "'Same as every year, the first fish to look for (salmon fly) adults is in the big grass-lined banks and overlaying tree banks,' Hansen said. 'The riffles don't fish as well early on. That's the main mistake people make. Salmon flies crawl out and turn into adults, and fish don't see them until their emergence. The fish out in the middle aren't seeing any of them.'" Mark Morical in the Bend Bulletin.

In his fly box, Craig Mathews keeps a bunch of "good luck" flies that were tied by friends who have since passed away: Dan Callahan, Charlie Brooks and others. Steve Huff keeps a fly tied by his son Chad at age three. In his box, Arkansas guide John Berry had secured a fly tied by Chuck Davidson, "the river keeper of the North Fork." It was his only connection to an important mentor. But one day he just had to tie it on.

"To many trout anglers attuned to the cyclical rhythms of the streams, blooming lilacs herald the imminent arrival of the tiny yellow sulfur mayflies that are the third big hatch of the season after the popcorn caddis and Hendricksons." Eric Sharp notes the coincidence of lilacs blooming and little sulfurs appearing at late afternoon in Michigan, replacing the frequent Hendrickson spinner falls. In the Detroit Free Press.

Ever wonder how fly uber-vendor Umpqua decides which flies will make the catalog in any given year? Charlie Meyers explains in the Denver Post. "'We get many hundreds of submissions from all over the world from people who think they've invented something new,' [Bruce] Olson said of a process that ends with a sort of summit meeting that includes sales representatives from across the nation. 'They all get to vote on what they think will sell best in each geographic territory. A lot of things go into each decision.'"

"Mayfly nymphs live a life in the cold, rocky dungeon of the floor of a trout stream only to emerge for a few brief moments of glory before breaking down into their elemental parts. But the stillborns never make it clear of the water to enjoy that shining moment in the silver air. Instead, some brief bout of bad luck at a crucial moment changes their destiny." An unnamed but clever writer talks about stillborns and how to imitate them in the Cadillac, Michigan Cadillac News.

"Interestingly, Red Quill names the fly that imitates the male and Hendrickson the female. The two genders look so different from one another that fly rodders use a different imitation. The male has a mahogany-colored, slender body and the female pinkish and chunky. Both have smoky-gray wings, tails and legs." Ken Allen offers a primer on the first dry flies of spring, including insight into the appearance of Red Quills: "Interestingly, Red Quill names the fly that imitates the male and Hendrickson the female. The two genders look so different from one another that fly rodders use a different imitation. The male has a mahogany-colored, slender body and the female pinkish and chunky. Both have smoky-gray wings, tails and legs." On MaineToday.com.

The BBC is often lauded for its nature cinematography, and David Attenborough's "Life in the Undergrowth" is a perfect example of why. Take a look at the detailed camera work in the segment in which they capture the life cycle of mayflies on video.

More information on "Life in the Undergrowth" can be found on the BBC Web site.

The Hare's Ear nymph is one of those patterns that belongs in any trout fisher's fly box, in almost any season. The folks at The Hollywood Casting Couch demonstrate -- in a decidedly un-classic atmosphere -- the key steps in tying and finishing this useful pattern. This tying clip is from "Fly Tying: The Beginning" (The Hollywood Casting Couch, 2007, 2 hours and 35 minutes), a two-DVD set that teaches several classic patterns, including the Black-Nose Dace, Hare's Ear Nymph, Hendrickson, Caddis, and the Black Leech. As Fly Tyer editor David Klausmeyer said in his review of this DVD set: "If I were giving away awards for the best fly-tying DVDs, then 'Fly Tying: The Beginning' would walk away with the trophy for Learn While You Laugh...."

Sometimes it takes only a glance to know a fly is a killer pattern. So it is with the Blackus Biggisus, a nymph tied originally by John Fennick and later modified by Jeff Phelan of Westbrookville, New York. "'John would fish the Blackus Biggisus as a single fly, casting it across and downstream,' Phelan said. 'Then he'd just jerk the rod and jig the fly. I always fish it pretty much the same way but cast it upstream and across and let it sink. I always weight my Biggisus heavier than John did,' Phelan said." On RecordOnline.com.

In the Detroit Free Press, Eric Sharp says forget about trying to match the indecipherable early season hatch -- carry little black stoneflies, BWOs, Hendricksons, some caddis and a few Adamses and you'll be just fine. "If it turns out that the river you fish requires an imitation of a bow-legged yellow pine borer in size 21, you can buy some at the local fly shop. Otherwise, get out on the stream, see what's hatching and pull something out of your box that's close."

"She was fishing a green butt (my favorite soft-hackle pattern that imitates the emerging rhyacophilia caddis that was coming off then). She also was immediately into fish and was really whacking them. In fact, if the truth be known, she was outfishing me (it happens fairly often). About that time, Lori hit a big fish. I looked over and her Winston rod was bent nearly double." Arkansas guide and fly tier John Berry discovers that giving away all of his flies comes with a price higher than simply an empty box. In the Baxter Bulletin.

Jarkko Suominen of Finland took first place in the national competition, which was also open to the teams competing in the World Fly Fishing Championships that start today. Second place went to Sando Soldarini of Italy while Suominen's teammate Janne Pirkkalainen was third. Judges also gave special commendation to ten-year old Jacob Bond from Lake Rotoma, who has been tying flies for just a year.

Read the extended entry for the full press release.

Author and soft-hackle fly expert Sylvester Nemes ties the Tup's Indespensible, a fly first popularized in England in the late 1800s and early 1900s but still a terrific pattern.

Morgan Lyle found that with less time on his hands, he made some obvious choices about which flies to tie -- choices he probably should have made earlier. Among the decisions: tie more caddisflies, and tie smaller. "Sure, the mayfly is the 'fly' in fly-fishing. But as Rick Hafele, in his recent excellent book, Nymph-Fishing Rivers and Streams, writes 'there are more species of caddisflies than all the mayflies and stoneflies put together . . . you will encounter caddisflies, often in abundance, in just about any water you fish.' It’s time to tie some rock worms, Elk-Hair Caddis and soft-hackles." On DailyGazette.com.

The truth is that 'bug Latin' is really a misnomer. The classification of insects by genus, family and species really has nothing to do with classical languages; it was just a convenience for scientists (particularly Carolus Linnaeus) who needed to make up a unique name for every living thing a few hundred years ago.

And that really is why scientific bug names are important. It's the only way to refer to one specific sulphur or blue-winged olive, for example, as being different from another. But as Rick Hafele points out in "Basic Bug ID, Part I: Mayflies," the minute differences between bugs are mostly impractical to learn. More important is knowing what a bug is likely to be, based where it is and what it is doing. Only then should you break out the hand lens, and if you do, this article will give you the details you need to impress your friends (and antagonize your enemies). New on MidCurrent.

When Ray Schmidt let us peek inside his fly box last week (see "Inside the Box: Ray Schmidt"), we got curious about sculpin flies and who was tying effective imitations. We found André Brun's clever patterns, developed for Norwegian rivers and lakes, in the midst of our search. Brun uses Antron bodies and grizzly marabou dubbing to form the thick-bodied patterns.

Arkansas guide Duane Hada also wrote an interesting introduction to sculpins on his Web site. His advice on presentation is specific, and based on sculpin behavior: "Once I sight a target fish I cast well away and up current of the fish as not to spook him with the entry of the fly. I also want to have enough space to properly retrieve the fly. I allow the fly to settle to the bottom; hook up, by design, often will keep the fly motionless for some time depending on the spookiness of the fish. I then start crawling the fly slowly across the bottom toward the window of the target fish."

HERE'S A QUIZ: If big trout eat both large flies and tiny midges, how do you know which to carry in your fly box?

a. I carry both; you never know what you are going to come across.
b. I look at the food sources in the waters I'm fishing.
c. Not an issue -- I carry a dozen fly boxes in a vest the size of a type I Offshore Personal Flotation Device.
d. I use only flies that are enormous, because little fish can't eat them.

All of those answers are valid, of course. But if you are long-time Michigan fly fisher Ray Schmidt, there is only one correct choice: d. This week Schmidt, who owns the venerable Schmidt Outfitters in Wellston, Michigan and who has been guiding area rivers for decades, shares his personal fly box with MidCurrent.

If there is a "classic" largemouth bass fly, the Gerbubble Bug -- originally a square-bodied cork or balsa-wood fly developed by Tom Loving for fly fishing bass in the tidal waters of the Chesapeake -- would get many votes for the top position. But writer Amy Hotz is stymied in her search for the Bartlett's version, which is mentioned by Lefty Kreh in his 2004 book Fly Fishing for Bass. "My search for the elusive Bartlett's Gerbubble Bug continues. So far, I've visited every outfitter in Wilmington. I've traveled to Myrtle Beach and given the Bass Pro Shop the third degree. I've searched the library and the Internet and enlisted others to do the same. Still, no Gerbubble. Not even a recipe to make one." In North Carolina's Star News Online.

Well, Amy, we suggest noting William Tapply's description of the original Gerbubble's features -- hackle feathers inserted into slits cut along both sides of the cork body so that the fibers stuck out perpendicular to the hook shank, creating the effect of dozens of legs kicking at the water’s surface -- and substituting marabou for the hackle feathers. Then take the recipe to a handy fly tier who should be able to whip one up in about 5 minutes. It doesn't answer the question of why you can't find a commercially tied Bartlett's Gerbubble, but it's guaranteed to feed your addiction.

For more on the history of bass bugs, see "From Bobs to Bugs" on MidCurrent.

In northern climes, those of us who have been trout fishing all winter are ready to say goodbye to the midge and hello to a nice, fat mayfly. But anyone who fishes spring creeks and tailwaters will remind you that midges make up an important part of the trout's diet throughout the year.

This week on MidCurrent we add a new video for anyone wanting to add midges to their fly box, Charles Meck tying the Zebra Midge. It's one of the simplest ties there is, but in the past decade or so the Zebra Midge has proven itself in all sorts of water, in all kinds of conditions.

Chester Allen is prompted to try a ninety-year-old pattern, the yellow Knudsen Spider, after finding that all the new flies he's tied stopped working on sea-run cutthroats. "The fly, which was first tied by an Everett angler named Al Knudsen, has fooled fish since the 1920s. But I forgot about this terrific fly during the past few years -- mostly because I started tying sea-run cutthroat flies to match the little fish and crustaceans in Puget Sound." In The Olympian.

"The development of what became known as the gaudy salmon fly is attributed to Irish fly tyers who were pioneers in the development of bright and complicated salmon patterns. These Irish tyers took advantage of silk, silver and gold tinsel and rare feathers imported for the millinery trade." Don MacLean gives short history lesson on the origins of the Atlantic salmon fly in Canada's Cape Breton Post.

Arkansas guide John Berry was first turned on to soft hackles by author and tier Sylvester Nemes, whom he happened upon in West Yellowstone pizza joint. He offers some commentary on their use in this morning's Baxter Bulletin.
"The soft hackle is most effective when used as a searching pattern. Use it to cover large sections of water, when you do not know exactly where the trout are. I look for broken water, particularly below rapids. I face downstream and cast downstream to the right at a 45-degree angle to the bank. As soon as the fly hits the water, I strip it back a foot or so to sink the fly into the film. I keep my rod tip low to the water and track it as it swings in the current."

My first exposure to flies tied on jig hooks was while casting oversized flies to snook. I was impressed with two things: the way the light wire of the hook made even four-inch flies easy to cast, and the hook-up rate. At first glance the 60-degree bend behind the hook eye makes flies look odd, like something that fell out of a hardware-chucker's Plano. But indeed they are castable, and very fishy. In fact while jig hook flies got their start with West coast anglers, many of the top permit guides in the Keys now tie their flies on variations of the bent-shank design.

Henry Cowen walks us through the beginnings of jig hook use by fly tiers and shows several patterns that have proven themselves effective not just for stripers, but for just about any saltwater fish that will fall for a streamer. Read "The Jig Is Up" on MidCurrent.

Though these patterns got their start on steelhead streams, a Times Herald-Record columnist notes that flies imitating sucker spawn can work on virtually any water with a population of suckers, even Catskill streams. "Here's what [guide Ron] Bierstine has to say about this peculiar but effective fly pattern: 'It was created to imitate sucker spawn in the inland streams which trout feed upon,' he said. 'It's perhaps the ultimate egg pattern. A small, soft, silhouetted fly that looks snotty in the water, not hard and unnatural. Drifts well and traps small air bubbles.'"

As a preview to his appearance in Ohio, A. K. Best gave Cleveland Plain Dealer writer D'Arcy Egan some insight into his sometimes contrarian take on the sport and how it is practiced. Among the tidbits: use a rod that allows you to land a fish quickly, even if you are fishing a small stream, and use common sense when tying mayflies. "Fly tiers leave a lot of stuff out, trying to match an insect perfectly. But they don't. Most every mayfly has a darker thorax than abdomen, but most flies don't reflect that. And they don't tie the wings long enough. Mayflies don't read proportion charts. Their wings are going to be as long as nature wants them."

You can also read A. K.'s thoughts on basic casting techniques on MidCurrent.

"I always start my winter fly-tying frenzy by creating the flies I’ll need in late February and all through March on the Yakima River. Blue wing olive mayflies hatch in waves — even during snowstorms — and I need lots of flies to match this hatch." Chester Allen explores needs versus wants as he fills the dark winter hours tying and getting ready for the first fishing days. In The Olympian.

In a bit of a muddle after ringing in the new year? Go for the fur cure. Mark Vagn Hansen offers a grub/shrimp pattern guaranteed to produce a baleful stare from any of your doggy friends. "Notice that puppet hair is best and that you want all the hair - guard hairs and underfur. The long often soft guard hairs combine well with the finer and often lighter underfur. Use a coffee grinder to mix the different materials and be careful not to overload it with too much material at once." On GlobalFlyFisher.com.

"My clients frequently ask how a fish can see and be caught by such a small fly. You have to consider a full-grown man eating M&Ms. They are small in relation to his total body size but he eats several of them at a single setting. Midges are the most available food source at certain times and the fish eat a lot of them." Arkansas guide John Berry suggests a few different techniques for feeding trout one of their favorite wintertime foods. In the Baxter Bulletin.

"Don’t try dying your own fly tying materials. If you can’t resist, know that the most easily dyed color is purple. It is achieved by trying to dye something black." Larry Myhre offers several bits of essential advice for the dedicated fly tier -- all with tongue firmly planted in cheek. In the Souix City Journal.

How to know without a trace of doubt that your recently tied fly is a good imitation? A spider crawls across the desk and steals it. Welshman Moc Morgan illustrates his column on flies with the example.

There are probably as many midge aficionados in the state of Colorado as in any other region of the world, so looking at the variety of choices made by anglers who swear by these tiny flies can be educational indeed. "As if you really needed to be reminded, all of us carry too many flies in our vests, even in the winter when nothing is hatching. Honestly, however, a handful of midge patterns chosen carefully for shape, color and size will catch 99 percent of the trout." Dave Buchanan gives a list in the Grand Junction, Colorado Daily Sentinel.

Why will a trout eat a fly that looks to us like a bare hook? Think “negative match.” John Merwin comments on a trout's willingness to ignore hooks while searching for its food of choice. On MidCurrent.

"Originally tied by Frank Sawyer, the Pheasant Tail Nymph is one of the oldest of modern nymphs. A few good wrinkles have been added over the years, such as the peacock thorax, optional beadhead, etc., but when you peel them away, it's still Sawyer's elegantly simple, generically suggestive, devastatingly effective nymph." Westfly.com delivers the recipe for the very popular and important nymph with typical care and detail.

After catching a nice landlocked salmon on a wet fly last week, Maine blogger Nick Mills asks why wet flies are so often overlooked. A bit of political trivia is attached to his sample fly, the "Parmachene, named for the secluded and very private water where President Dwight Eisenhower cast into the waters below Little Boy Falls to catch one of the many trout that had been dumped there in advance of the presidential rustication." On Mainetoday.com.

Carl Hiaasen is not your typical bonefish fanatic. For one thing, he is best known as a fiction writer, not a fly fisher. His name often appears when something ludicrous happens in Florida environmental politics, because he is outspoken about preserving what remains of the state's resources. But backstage he is, as one top guide noted, "one of the fishiest anglers out there."

This week Hiaasen shares the contents of his fly box with MidCurrent readers. How he describes his collection -- as a "horrendous mess" -- says a lot about how he manages to catch so many fish: he refuses to obsess over details, and he picks fly patterns based on experience and instinct rather than their popularity.

"The fly floats like a cork because its underbody is a loosely bound clump of elk hair. A vertical elk hair post makes it highly visible and is wrapped with brown or grizzly hackle. The fly's outer body is dubbed with glittery 'Ice Dub.'" CMO author Charles M. Obermeyer, of Highlands Ranch, Colorado, describes the durable, high-floating caddis fly that uses synthetic and natural materials to make it a standout in swift mountain waters. Ed Dentry in the Rocky Mountain News.

It would be hard to think of a fly pattern that is more versatile than the Muddler Minnow. Most of that utility, of course, comes from the fact that spun deer hair can be crafted to produce almost any profile of any prey that fish eat, from frogs and crabs to caddisflies and sculpins.

But it's also no secret that spinning deer hair is considered a secondary skill by most fly tiers. It's enough unlike other skills in fly tying that many of us never try it, which is a shame because it is both easy and rewarding. This week on MidCurrent John Likakis gives us a head start on deer hair flies and the Muddler in particular. In "Muddlers Made Easy," he tells what to look for in materials and how to tie both basic and streamer-style versions of this classic fly.

While it may be true that salmonflies share something in common with cinder and palolo worms, pass crabs, guppy hatches, and trico spinner falls -- namely the ability to thrash us into a Quixotic frenzy -- it's also true we'd rather be there than not. "Trouble with big, juicy flies is that they're like all those other larger-than-life events we dream about, yet only seldom are allowed to touch. Something generally gets in the way: Too much sun, howling wind, water the color of a mocha milkshake. We get there too early or too late, or find a small army bivouacked in the only spot where there's real action." Charlie Meyers in the Denver Post.

We often get inquiries from readers who are looking for advice about what they should put in their fly box for a specific region of the U.S. If they are planning to fish in Idaho, Oregon, Washington or Montana, we almost always include a suggestion to look at Westfly.com's detailed hatch charts. Although they provide the most detail for Oregon waters, the Westfly charts are a good start if you want an overview of the insects and associated patterns in each state. To get to the charts, click on the opening photo, then on a state, then on "Hatches" in either the top navigation or the text.

Alastair Robertson manages to throw in a bit of comic relief as he rails against the new Scottish law prohibiting fly tiers from using the fur from endangered animals. "If the rule extends to badger sporrans then I can tell you that Billy Connolly is in trouble. I once saw him narrowly avoid castration at a Highland games when a Dandidinmont, a breed of dog bred to kill badgers, had to be hauled back into the crowd before it savaged Connolly while he judged the junior Highland dancing in his kilt and badger." On Scotsman.com.

"The western terrestrials are, as a group, totally different. They often are made of foam with rubber legs and almost always have some sort of quick sight on them. They are oversized and resemble nothing I have seen in nature. When I first saw them, I snickered and passed on by." Arkansas guide John Berry discovers that the big, gaudy flies that stuff fly bins out west are effective on just about any water where trout feed on terrestrials. In The Baxter Bulletin.

"The Deschutes River boasts some of the best fly-fishing in North America. Anglers from all over the world travel to Central Oregon in search of the river's bounties of steelhead and trout. And late spring marks one of the best times to fish – when the salmon flies are hatching." For NPR, David Welch spends time on the Deschutes chatting with a salmon fly devotee, Jamie Zartler.

"Stonefly hatches on western rivers are like that: Covered with muddy water one year, launching a surface onslaught by hungry trout the next. So it is on the upper Colorado, which harbors a dense population of these oversized bugs, along with all the water vagaries to make a successful fishing scenario a sometime thing, maybe two out of five years if we're lucky." Charlie Meyers writes about the serendipity of chasing the stonefly hatch in Colorado in the Denver Post.

Dave Wolf makes an interesting suggestion in his coverage of the frenzy surrounding the annual green drake hatch in Pennsylvania: watch for the concurrent hatch of smaller bugs that will often be the target of the bigger fish. "Last but not least be vigilant for a 'masking hatch,' a smaller sized fly like the sulphur that is hatching at the same time the drakes are. If you want to take a trout on a drake imitation, keep on fishing. If you want to take more trout and large trout, switch over to the smaller pattern." In Pennsylvania's Lebanon Daily News.

"Charles R. Meck's supervisor at Penn State thought Meck was crazy when he retired in 1987 after only 25 years with the university. 'I quit the day I received my retirement health care benefits,' said Meck, who lives in Pennsylvania Furnace. 'My vice president asked me, "What are you going to do?" " Eric Smith profiles author Charles Meck, whose extraordinary knowledge of Pennsylvania hatches and trout techniques led to a second career in writing, for Pennyslvania's CentreDaily.com. Smith mentions Meck's new book, Fishing Tandem Flies: Tactics, Techniques, and Rigs to Catch More Trout, coming out in August.

Fishing Tandem Flies: Tactics, Techniques, and Rigs to Catch More Trout on Amazon.