Low Resolution (click) | | Mayflies and Vampires
Mayfly duns are the classic design problem in fly fishing and fly tying
history. If you wanted to design a new way to make mayflies you could try
to chip away at all the usual design goals and criteria: faster and easier to tie,
more realistic, better floating or any combination of the previous three,
but the new fly would still have to work well and catch fish, else what's the point?
Unfortunately, at least for the ambitious mayfly designer, most
of the good work seems to have been done already. I haven't seen anything both
new and practical in a long time, except perhaps for Neale Streek's ultra-simple
Thread Flies. Some of today's best practitioners, like Rene Harrop, Craig Matthews and
Shane Stalcup are now making what look to me a lot like the best mayfly imitations ever made.
Being among the best ever is no small achievment. But their work is still mostly derivative: new color
and material combinations combined with unparalleled craftsmanship--not fundamental design change.
Another interesting although not necessarily popular concept is the idea
(especially for small mayflies) that pattern design doesn't matter
that much anyway. I do tend to think pattern makes a lot
less difference than many people think. If you're fishing a Pale Morning Dun
hatch in July, well yes of course, you do need to fish with PMD
imitations, else you won't do very well at all. But which one or ones?
The answer, I think, is lots of patterns rather than fewer. Changing flies, from a rich
variety of patterns in your box, matters a lot. When you're casting over
a fussy riser on the far side of the spring creek who has aleady
sniffed and refused your best efforts more than once, the best thing
to do is to change the fly. And it doesn't necessarily matter so much
which fly you choose, as long as it's got a different look than the last one.
The multiple-look idea, if you believe it1, inevitably tends to discount the
importance of any one particular pattern over another.
The undeniable success of Neal Streeks' bare bones thread flies definately
provides strong support for that position.
When I was still guiding, some years working 20-25 days on Montana's
Paradise Valley spring creeks, I'd usually begin a spring creek day at
the fly bins at George Anderson's Yellowstone Angler. I'd ask my customers
to show me their fly boxes and then I'd start picking out flies. I always
had some favorites--usually the latest and greatest stuff from Rene Harrop--but
the favorites did seem to change from week to week, even if the bugs didn't. For spring creek and
tailwater fishing over fussy small insect eaters, I do believe in the multiple
look idea. I really don't think any one pattern is necessarily that much better
than the next.
If you stand in the creek at noon in July, during the peak of the
Pale Morning Dun hatch--if you can bring yourself to stop fishing and just watch
for a bit--you'll see the bugs present themselves in a wide variety
of states, postures and sillouettes. Some never seem to get their wings open
and drift by crumpled up on their sides, hopelessly tangled in their entrapping
nymphal skin. Some are upright but still trail a shedding
skin while others lay drowned and dead, with spent spinner-like wings. Many do ride
the surface tension completely upright. You can watch the fish cruising along
elliptical circuits in shallow water, often racing each other to the next arriving
dimple in the surface tension. On heavily fished waters the fish can be spooky
and hard to catch. A Royal Wulff isn't likely to work well during a Pale Morning Dun hatch.
But an incredibly wide variety of yellowish wet dry and floating/sinking nymph-like patterns will work just fine.
Despite all that, tying complex mayflies is still one of my favorite things to do. I do have some experimental mayfly designs here, flies that might even be 'creative new ways for making mayflies.' Some are more practical than others. The ParaNormal Mayfly is a bottom-mounted parachute I find easier to tie than traditional parachutes, at least for mayflies size 16 and larger. Some of the bigger extended-body drakes I tie fall more solidly into the 'fun to tie but not so practical' category. I tie them because I like looking at them. Mayflies size 18 and smaller I don't tie. I buy those at the fly shop, where the flies you find for sale these days (anymore, a westerner might say) are so good and so cheap, it only makes sense to tie the flies you cannot buy, or that you just like to tie, for whatever reason.
Vampires
In addition to late winter fly tying amusement, complex mayfly ideas and designs also wield great power in the editorial realm. If you write anything even vaguely new or original about mayflies, no matter how obscure or even bizarre, you will almost certainly
get your work published somewhere. But if you write anything related to what might be referred to as lures or lure-like flies, on the other hand, like a vampire before a cross, the fly fishing editor will fall back in horror, cowering behind a raised forearm. Like a fisherman's yin and yang, the mayfly and the lure model the very depths of the consumer age piscatorial soul.
1 I don't in anyway lay claim to the muliple look idea. When I first began working at the Yellowstone Angler, working with and learning from the likes of John Greene, Randy Berry, Paul Rice, Chuck Tuscmidt, Todd Wester, Rick Smith, Robin Cunningham and others (why did I ever leave?) that's what everybody told me: "Hey Sandy, when you get to the spring creek, here's what you have to do..."
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