SONAR TITAN TROPICAL/JUNGLE CLEAR TIP

“The Scientific Anglers Sonar Titan Jungle Clear Tip is my choice for fishing Amazonian Dorado in the Bolivian
mountains. Its unique taper turns over big streamers in a single cast – crucial when you face a feeding frenzy
or a dorado crossing right in front you and only have seconds to make the shot.”
- Marcelo Perez, SA Advisor
 scientificanglers.com

Harder coating and

stiffer core to maintain
Excellent turnover due to short, powerful head

SLICKNESS
SL
•

• Overweighted by two line sizes for quick loading

and delivery of big flies to distant targets
AND ABRASION RESISTANCE • 15’ clear intermediate tip for stealthy presentations
IN DEMANDING JUNGLE CONDITIONS • Slow sink rate gets flies just below the surface
• Tropi-Core technology
Publishing Team Websites
Chris Bird Breeze Web
Jennifer Bird
Department Editors
Managing Editor Derek Bird
Bob Covey Brian Chan
Dana Harrison
Editorial Team Jim McLennan
Derek Bird Derek Olthuis
Gary Bird Jeff Wagner

Group Art Direction Contributors

Terry Paulhus Chase Bohning
Kastine Coleman
Circulation Consultant Bob Covey
Scott Bullock Allen Crater
Jeremy Davies
Office Administrators Walter Foster
Kim Carruthers Pavel Francev
Kaylee Davis Jake Hale
Dana Harrison
Matt Kryger
Geoff Shirley
Nathaniel Wilder

Fly Fusion is published quarterly by Fly Fusion Ltd, a

division of Bird Marketing Group Inc. 111, 7 Avenue
S, Suite A Cranbrook, BC V1C 2J3 1-888-435-9624
info@flyfusionmag.com flyfusionmag.com
The current issue of Fly Fusion can be found across
North America in specialty fly shops, sporting
goods stores and retail outlets for $8.99. One-year
subscription: $28.95 Two-year subscription: $49.95
Three-year subscription: $69.95 Add $12.00 shipping
and handling per year for international subscriptions.
Editorial submissions are welcome and should be sent
to the address above attention to the Editor. Email
queries can also be emailed to editor@flyfusionmag.
com. Visit flyfusionmag.com for the full writer and
photographer guidelines. Unsolicited submissions
will be considered and must be accompanied by a
self-addressed stamped envelope. Fly Fusion assumes
no responsibility for the return or loss of solicited and
unsolicited material.
All facts, opinions and statements appearing within
this publication are those of the writers and are in
no way to be construed as statements, positions,
or endorsements. No part of this publication may
be reproduced in any manner without the written
consent of the publisher. Copyright 2022 Fly Fusion
Ltd. Printed in Canada.
Canadian Mail Publication Agreement #41202551.
Return undeliverable Canadian addresses to: Fly
Fusion, 111, 7 Avenue S, Suite A Cranbrook, BC V1C
2J3Return undeliverable US addresses to Fly Fusion,
PO Box 227A, Eastport, Idaho 83826.
We acknowledge the financial support of the
Government of Canada.

© Photo Derek Olthuis

flyfusionmag.com 5
6 The Soul of Fly Fishing
CONTENTS
14 FIVE LOAVES AND TWO FISH
Allen Crater
I didn’t have an inkling about pursuing fish with fur and feature until my older
son decided he wanted to learn. The moment I landed my first fish—an eight-
inch planter that today remains my greatest trophy—I unwittingly moved into
Stage One of the five stages of fly fishing.

24 RED SURGE
Jake Hale
Arriving at shore, we laughed incredulously as we tried to study the lazy roll of
fish while assembling our rods. Then, we saw something unexpected. Why were
bull trout sharing the same pool with the fat cutt-bows? Could they be spawning?
Then my eyes adjusted and I saw it…

30 LAST ANGLER ON KATHERINE LAKE

Bob Covey
Fish stocking programs in our national parks have become passé, but Yellowstone
cutthroat in the Canadian Rockies’ high alpine apparently didn’t get the memo. To
restore native fish populations, the planted species had to go, but not before one
angler got on the lake for a few last casts.

34 HOOK-BENDING, MIND-BLENDING
Chase Bohning
In western waters, non-native eastern brook are often decried as invasive; a
hybridizer and an occupier, stunted and dull. But my family puts them on a
pedestal. When I think of brookies, I feel an ember glowing brighter somewhere
inside my heart.

38 FIFTY FLIES TO TRY BEFORE YOU DIE

Jeremy Davies
Fill your fly boxes on the vise then fill your boots on the water with these
searching nymphs, stealthy dries and seductive streamers. These patterns are
tried, tested and trouty; from innovative fly tyer Jeremy Davies’ tying bench to
your tippet, these are 50 flies to try before you expire.

8 Stream Lines 56 Wandering Currents

10 Profiles 60 Stillwater Secrets
46 On the Vise 64 Water Marks
52 Long Lines 66 End of the Line

© Photo Geoff Shirley | © On the cover: Aaron Smith @mrwerbs

flyfusionmag.com 7

Derek Bird
I’m always willing to
share a few fly-fishing
secrets. My favorite fly,
for example, is the one
the trout are taking. My
favorite season is the
one when trout are biting.
My favorite stream is the
one where the trout are
plentiful and the anglers
are few.
8 The Soul of Fly Fishing
STREAM LINES
All Anglers are
Liars—False
H
umans are strange creatures. With
over a million words in the English
language, we often reuse the same
combinations tirelessly and without
thought. Obviously not just in angling
culture, but that’s what I’m here to talk about. In an
effort to be more original in the language I use, I’d like
to perform a ceremonial exercise in tearing apart the
most common sayings in angling. Maybe then we can
throw certain sayings in the trash heap and embark down
more innovative roads. Who knows what new waters we
might discover?
All fishermen are liars. The four problems with this
false axiom can be identified in the words ‘all’ ‘fishermen’ ‘are’
‘liars’. The word ‘all’ makes it an improvable statement (and
most likely an untrue one). The word ‘fishermen’ is outdated
because it’s sexist. ‘Are’ is classified as a state of being word
which implies that anglers are intrinsically untruthful.
And ‘liars’ is horribly presumptuous for anyone (angler
or otherwise) who’s grown up saturated in postmodern
Western thought. What is a liar? Are there situations where
lying is actually the right thing to do? Are all people who lie
bad? Is the liar the result of nature or nurture? Were there
socioeconomic and cultural factors creating the liar? It’s a
dizzyingly fallacious statement as you can see.
So what’s an accurate replacement? It’s more
cumbersome but more truthful to say ‘some anglers divert
the attention of others from certain perceptions of reality
for reasons they see fit in the moment they’re responding’.
Hmmm. That is a mouthful. But at least it’s accurate and
original. I’m sure the first person who showed up to the
first fly-fishing trip with a fiberglass rod when everyone
else brought bamboo was laughed at too. To be a trend
setter you have to be willing to head out in directions
others are afraid to trek.
In practical terms acceptable deception might look
like this. Think of the time where a fellow fly angler
walks past you on the river after it took countless hours of
figuring out what the trout are taking and he asks what’s
working. You don’t what to steal from him the gratification
that comes from working through an obstacle, so you slide
your hand up your fly rod handle to cover your fly. Then
you instinctually offer a verbal diversion. If you know
another language, you could respond with that. A simple
Ich bin auslander und spreche nicht gut Deutsch and they’ll be
on their way. Is that a lie from the mouth of a liar? Again,
that’s so unfairly presumptuous for anyone to try to define
you or categorize you as such.
I had to call in sick. My arm is in a cast. Ok, this
is completely counterproductive to everything I just wrote
about anglers not being liars. Not only is this a lie (sorry a
diversion), it is the lowest form in that it’s a pun. If you’re
lying takes on pun status, you are likely beyond help and
deserve all the wrath your boss bestows upon you when
you show up to the office the next day without a cast on
your arm. No one appreciates being the butt end of a
deception, so if it was up to me, I say they should fire your
as…butt not because you lied but because you used a pun.
If you’re looking for a day off work, the last thing you
want to do is fake a broken bone unless you’re willing to go
all the way and show up for work in a cast (and don’t bring
your fly rod to work to try and explain your joke and how
you thought it was funny. It’s not.).
Every fly angler knows you take the mental health route
if you’re looking for a much needed day off. The accurate
and updated saying is going to have to be something along
the lines of ‘I had to call in sick; my doctor says I’ve got
fluid on the brain.’ Ok, maybe there’s no way around a pun
for this one.
A bad day’s fishing is better than a good day at
work. Now that we’re on the topic of skipping work to go
fly fishing, this is one I hear quite often. I’m not sure who
came up with this phrase, so I’m not sure who I’m going
to offend. Though I can guarantee it will be less than the
number of people I will offend by saying we need to come
up with a better phrase than this.
For those of you who have a bumper sticker slapped
on the back of your Tacoma or you have five T-shirts in
different colours all with this phrase on it, please don’t
bother writing me to tell me “how dare you” or “how
sacrilegious of you” for even questioning this phrase. All
I’m saying is I appreciate my job and I also enjoy fly fishing.
I have some amazing days fly fishing and I have some
amazing days at work. I have some crappy days at work
and I have some crappy days fly fishing. Ok, maybe we can
compromise and just get a shirt that says No Crappie Days
with a picture of a fish on it. Now I’m the idiot pun master.
So as not to leave the discussion of this phrase with a
pun, let me say the connection between work and play is
a complex dynamic; far too intertwined to fit into a phrase
that demonizes one and elevates the other.
I work so I can buy new fly-fishing gear. I
work so I don’t have to eat fish all the time.
Give a person a fish and feed them
for a day. Teach a person to fish and you
feed them for a lifetime. This phrase of
unknown origin is credited as a Chinese
proverb and an Italian proverb. It’s also
said the phrase is the brainchild of a
thirteenth century Egyptian philosopher
and a British writer. But we all know the
phrase really originated from the fingers of
a philosophically overzealous Millennial
Twitter warrior sitting by a river in his
renovated 90s vintage Chevrolet Astro
van. Sorry, I digress.
I understand the aphorism and fully
agree with the essence of it. The problem for me is the food
group used to relate the message of providing someone
with a skill so they can work in order to survive and
possibly thrive so they can go out and spend a thousand
dollars on a fly rod so they can go out and fish. Such a
downward spiral. I wish the person who created the
phrase, would have used something like ‘potato’ instead. It
still has a pretty good ring to it: Give a person a potato and
feed them for a day. Teach a person to farm potatoes and
they’ll have vodka for a lifetime. Ok, maybe potato doesn’t
work quite as well, but the truth is still in there. It’s just a
little more foggy.
I have a problem with the food (not potatoes but fish)
because there’s a lot of people who fish in the region I
live, so there can be some pretty busy days on the water.
Also, in my region, there’s a worker shortage, so maybe too
many people have been taught to fish and not enough of
them have been taught to work.
This is so confusing. My brain is starting to hurt.
It makes me wish, in the mountains of useless words
the English language offers, that there were just a few
combinations that would make sense of all this nonsense.
Well, until I’ve found the lid for this can of words, the best
way to carpe diem is to find a stream and listen to your reel
scream. And if it doesn’t happen, you could just lie about
it because all anglers are liars.
© Illustration Pavel Francev @pavelfrancev
flyfusionmag.com 9

Kastine Coleman
Kastine Coleman is a
conservation-minded
angler and teacher, a
FFI casting instructor,
two-time IGFA world record
holder for Atlantic Salmon,
fishing guide, owner of
Tight Loops Tight Lines,
and host of a fly fishing
television show of the
same name, currently
airing on Sportsman
Canada and the World
fishing Network. Kastine is
the Canadian Ambassador
for Fly Fishers International
(FFI), a director with both
FFI and the Atlantic Salmon
Conservation Foundation, a
SPAWN board member and
a freelance writer. Kastine
resides in Corner Brook,
Newfoundland, with her
three children.
10 The Soul of Fly Fishing
PROFILES
Kastine Coleman
Bob Covey: Who introduced you to fishing?
Kastine Coleman: My dad. We’d always do spin casting at
lake for trout for fun but my dad is a salmon fisherman. He
was a very busy father. He worked a lot, but if he ever got
time away to go salmon fishing he would always invite us,
and even if we said no, he would invite us the next time.
I worked with dad in the furniture business, but fishing
was a time to connect with him. The fishing conversation
always different than work conversation and even now he’ll
say ‘I’m going fishing tonight after work, want to come?’
We’ll do that ’til the end of time. The beauty of fly fishing
is there’s ways to participate at all ages. The river doesn’t
know how old you are.
BC: What’s your earliest memory of making that connection
with him on a salmon river?
KC: The first time I remember going salmon fishing, I
remember it was the longest drive. It seemed like it took us
forever to walk there. It seemed like hours. Then we got to
this section on the river and he said ‘this is it, we’re here.’ I
looked around and you know it was just a section of water.
So we worked our way through and he caught a few fish
and he let them go! I said ‘We’ve just spent hours trying
to get that fish and you just let him go?’ (laughs) And
he said ‘Yes that’s what we do,’ so that was the first eye-
opening little memory from way back when I was probably
10 years old.
BC: Did he explain the Why behind the catch and release?
KC: Yes he did, and catch and release wasn’t really even
talked about back then but he just said ‘I want you to be able
to do this when you grow up and I want you to take your
own kids. If I keep the fish then you know, you won’t be
able to. If I put it back maybe someone else can catch it too.’
BC: You’re a yoga instructor, along with your mom and
sister, and you all fly fish together too; you must talk with
your family about how the two practices or passions have
common elements?
KC: Yes, my mom has been a yoga teacher since I even
knew what yoga was. And yeah we do talk about how the
benefits of fly fishing are akin to yoga. When you’re fly
fishing, immersed in nature, you become very focused on
that one thought or the one task. You’re unshackled by your
devices, you don’t think about yesterday, you don’t think
about tomorrow. There’s nothing. Just you, in the moment.
You feel the hug of the water, you feel your rhythmic
movement and your breath. And you have the chance to
just allow yourself to simply be. So you’re present. You can
be yourself. You can be relaxed. Your cortisol level drops,
your breathing flows, your heart rate drops. So it is just
like yoga. Until you catch a fish! (laughs)
BC: Then it’s like hot yoga!
KC: That’s right! (laughs) And at the end of the day or the
class or at the end of a fishing session,‘it’s like a reward
really, because you’ve given time to yourself, which you
don’t often do during the hustle and the bustle of the day.
BC: Now I’m assuming that reward can be found regardless
of if you catch a fish or not?
KC: Yup. It doesn’t matter. When I started fishing there
were years when I never caught a fish. And I never cared.
I would leave and it would be the same feeling. Still today,
I can leave the water and sometimes I don’t remember if I
caught fish!
BC: You’re a certified casting instructor, you said you love
the art of the cast. But why did you certify in the first place?
KC: I didn’t know there was such a thing as a casting
instructor. The reason I wanted to cast further and better
was because when I went fishing by myself, which was
often, I’d be standing up on the river, with no one else out
there, in the middle of the woods with no cell service. I’m
not afraid of the water. I can swim. I have no fear, basically
(laughs). But I thought one of these days I’m going to be
wading out there and go over my waders and I’m going to
be all by myself. And I’ve got three kids waiting for a ride
home from school. So I knew that I had to be a little bit fishing to stop and have a cup of coffee or tea and a snack.
smart in the situation and so I said if I could cast further, I Because especially for a new angler it’s so intense with all
could stand a little bit closer to shore and not wade out to these little details. You’re nervous, you’re excited, so I find
that potentially dangerous level. So I worked on increasing it’s just helpful to take a step back and appreciate your
the distance, but then I was talking to my brother who said surroundings. Usually when you sit down on the rocks it’s
‘there’s people who actually teach this stuff and I think like the first time you realize where you are. You can smell
you’d be really good at doing it.’ And I looked it up and I the forest and hear the water and get all that other side of
said yeah I would love to do that.
BC: Regarding salmon conservation, I know out on
the west coast it’s very complex with commercial
fisheries, First Nations fisheries, recreational
fisheries…it can get pretty murky for those of us
who aren’t there and understanding all the nuances.
Is it similar in your part of the country? How would
you sum up the Atlantic salmon issues for those of
us on the outside?
KC: I would say right now the biggest issue is
open pen salmon farms and that regulations are
not where they should be. They’re going to take a
toll on the rivers unless we can put some of those
regulations in place. But when you’re dealing with
small communities and the prospects of jobs, it’s a
hard sell.
BC: Thanks to anglers such as yourself, women are
being featured more prominently in the fly fishing
industry. When you do introduce women to fly
fishing, what do you hear from them in terms of
common barriers and what do you do to help break
those barriers down?
KC: If a person is walking down a trail to a river
for the first time, without knowing what to expect
on the other side, it can be intimidating. That’s
where I get a lot of feedback on why people want to
take a lesson or learn to fish. So when I introduce
someone to fly fishing my goal is to make them an
independent angler. I want to show them all the
details so they can feel confident to come again on
their own: what to wear to be safe and dry, how
to set up the rod, how to tie the fly, what fly to
pick and how to fish it. All those things are simple
to people that have been doing it forever but to a
new angler, those are the things that will make or
break a day on the water. And I always interrupt

flyfusionmag.com 11
 it that really makes it a whole event. And it really makes
you appreciate your surroundings and starts to foster that
love of helping the river system, not just the fishing. So
when you start fishing after that it’s always a little more
special, more heartfelt and more connected. That’s the key,
you want people to develop a connection not with just the
act of fishing but with the river and everything that fishing
encompasses. My goal, always, is to get them so that
they can soak it all in and be confident and comfortable
enough to come back to the river on their own, or invite
someone else to the river with them to pass along that
same experience.
BC: Do you have a “bucket list?” Are there certain angling
opportunities you have yet to experience or is there a
fishery out there that you really want to see?
KC: I love Atlantic salmon, especially dry fly fishing for
them. It’s as good as it gets, really. So I would say that
in terms of bucket list destinations, Newfoundland and
Labrador is probably still my bucket list destination, even
though I live here. There’s so many rivers here that I still
haven’t fished. Just last week I went to a brand new river,
and even after I got to that river, I only fished one pool.
So there’s kilometres of river that I have yet to even set
foot on, and then hundreds of other rivers that I’ve never
12 The Soul of Fly Fishing
even gone to. So I don’t think I’ll get through them in my
lifetime but I’m certainly going to try.
BC: What have you learned about yourself as an angler
from spending time with your kids on the water?
KC: So much, actually. They really teach me to keep the
fun in the sport. And that fuels up my passion to take
them back out. Fishing is such a solitary sport, but they
really bring that social aspect to it and they bring joy and
laughter and just so much fun. Like they laugh at me when
I lose a fish, all you can hear is just the big hee-haws back
on shore. And they call me out on stuff! They grew up
with the whole fish-handing thing and how to do proper
catch and release. So if I slip up on something they are the
first ones to say ‘mom, you’re not pointing the fish up-river
fast enough.’ They’re always keeping me on their toes, and
they’re always eager to learn. Every year they seem to like
the sport a little bit more and they just kind of remind me
to keep it light and stress-free. Spending time on the water
with them wants me to preserve everything that we have
here, the beauty of the rivers, the health of the rivers, the
strength of the stock. You can’t force the passion on them
but you can share it. And I want them to have the option
to share the sport with their own children just as my dad
did with me 30-plus years ago.
Five Loaves and
Two Fish
The miracle of fly fishing
Allen Crater
© Photo Geoff Shirley

Allen Crater
Allen Crater is a husband
and father of two adult sons
that frequently out fish him.
His work has appeared in
several publications including
Solace, Backcountry Journal,
and Strung. He is the host
of allenoutside.com, and is
finishing his first book, Outside
in Shorts, due out this fall.
16 The Soul of Fly Fishing
I
waded into the murky waters of fly fishing later in
life. Sure, I grew up chasing panfish and pike with
my dad and grandpa, and my wife, boys and I would
throw rubber crawlers for bass at the cottage, but I
never had an inkling about pursuing fish with fur
and feather. Until, that is, my older son, Kyle, decided he
wanted to learn, and asked for a rod for his 12th birthday.
We set off to test the Pere Marquette River, not far from our
summer place in Michigan; so green we didn’t even realize
how iconic this tributary, that we’d traveled over so many
weekends, actually was. He didn’t catch anything during
those first few outings, and I was relegated to observing from
the bank, shrugging my shoulders – no fatherly wisdom to
impart.
And then, by complete happenstance, I met a friend of
a friend at a trade show in Chicago. We got talking about
kids and hobbies and one thing led to the next. It turned
out that her boyfriend was a high-school football coach and
an avid angler – calling the Pere Marquette his home water.
One of his life passions was teaching kids how to fly fish
© Photo Scientific Anglers
and, she said, he would be glad to meet up with us and show
Kyle a thing or two.
Meeting Matt quite literally changed the trajectory of
our fishing lives. Guiding us to one of his go-to holes on
the PM, he instructed Kyle on the basics: finding the risers,
determining the proper flies, tying knots, casting, and
presentation. Still unsure, I watched from afar – intrigued
but not yet infected. As Matt patiently coached, Kyle worked
the water and, by the end of the night, managed to trick a
few small brown trout. The kid was over the moon, and I
will have to admit that even I felt a little shaky from the
adrenaline of the moment. It became evident that he was
a natural, depositing fish in his net on almost every outing
thereafter.
The following spring I was no longer content to be a
mere observer – the off-duty lifeguard. This all looked too
damn fun, and the competitive side of me was starting
to kick in. Like any parent, I enjoyed watching my son’s
success, but it troubled my male ego to be outdone by the
boy. So, I pulled a few bucks together and bought my first
fly-rod combo from Baldwin Bait and Tackle and ordered a
pair of hundred-dollar waders online.
At that point I didn’t know my ass from my elbow when
it came to fly fishing (many of my friends would argue, with
some validity, that I still don’t), but Matt invited me to join
him and a few buddies on their annual spring trip to the Holy
Waters of the Au Sable River. I rolled in with my combo set
and waders still in the box. No leader. No tippet. No flies.
No goop. No knowledge. No shame. And while the other
guys made their way upstream to throw something called
streamers, Matt helped me rig up and we headed down to
attempt what he called swinging nymphs. Sure, I thought,
nymphs sound exactly right in this situation, Matt.
And then, after what must have been a lot of
embarrassing flailing (or what, for me, passed as casting),
I actually landed a fish. Holy hell, I couldn’t believe it!
An eight-inch planter that to this day remains my greatest
trophy. At that moment, I unwittingly moved into “Stage
One” of what, in angling circles, is known as the “five stages
of fly fishing” – the pernicious path of an angler through the
sport from the beginning, where the goal is simply to catch
a fish, any fish, of any size, to the end, where you are just
damn glad to be fishing, period. Zen-like in its simplicity.
 © Photo Scientific Anglers

flyfusionmag.com
17
 But, like anyone who experiences a taste of success,
I wanted more, and didn’t tarry long in this early stage.
The situation spiralled downhill rapidly, and “Stage Two”
developed into a full-blown infection before I could even
get a proper diagnosis. I exhibited all the classic symptoms
of the “numbers stage,” wanting to catch all the fish all the
time, and Matt was more than happy to nurse me through it.
I hit the local rivers with a fervour that would make a
televangelist blush. Fishing whenever I could, with anyone
who was willing, for anything that was biting. From blazing
hot summer nights chasing smallies to sub-zero winter
mornings searching for chrome. As many hours and fish as
possible. And you’re damn right I was counting; I could tell
you precisely how many fish I had for the evening, for the
week, and for the year. My God, I mused, I am a tremendous
fisherman. Can you believe these numbers? I must be some
sort of piscatorial prodigy. Dozens, no, hundreds. Hundreds
and hundreds of fish.
Stage Two was spellbinding. But, as man is wont to do,
rather than be delighted with some success, I craved more,
and, almost imperceptibly, slid headlong into “Stage Three”
of the journey.
Stage Three is what I think of as the “Freudian stage,”
and I suddenly became aware of angler envy. Sure, I was
catching a lot of fish, but my friends were catching bigger
fish, and I couldn’t help but notice I wasn’t measuring up.
Regardless of what consoling ex-girlfriends insist, size does
matter. To believe otherwise would almost be un-American.
Super-size it. Hell, colossal size it! Bigger everything. You call
that a fish? That, my friend, is bait. All I could contemplate
was catching the biggest fish. I’ll even admit to becoming
annoyed when hooking smaller ones; sometimes secretly
resorting to shaking a few off, especially if landing them
would mean relinquishing my prized spot in the front of the
boat. Awe shoot, I lost him. Dang.
Numbers no longer satiated my ravenous appetite. I
wanted monsters. Trophies worthy of a magazine cover.
Trout that broke the 20-inch mark. Soon two feet became
the goal, and 30 inches was just around the next bend. And
this led to an obsession with streamer fishing which, to my
addled mind, was the only proper way to hook the big boys.
I quickly outgrew the five weight, and the six, and, by God,
even the seven. I can’t huck meat for big fish on anything less
18 The Soul of Fly Fishing
than an eight, are you crazy? I started employing flies whose
very names should have been a red flag: Sex Dungeons, Butt
Monkeys, and Barely Legals, and never gave it a second
thought in the sultry heat of the Freudian stage.
Now, it wasn’t only about size at this point. For example,
plucking a giant out of a stocked pond wouldn’t entirely
cure what ailed me, but it sure helped stem the bleeding.
And catching native fish became more important, not that
I could ever get past my obsession with brown trout. And
I began to recognize some small satisfaction in pulling off a
particularly difficult cast or tricking a more wary fish. I was
moving towards “Stage Four,” but, candidly, it was a case of
window shopping more so than full commitment.
Stage Four is best summed up as the “harder is better
stage.” This sadistic stage forgoes quantity and even size and
simply esteems the greatest challenge. Dueling genius-level
fish, in the least ideal conditions. Fun, right?
No. Well, not for me anyway.
I have yet to fully embrace this stage, and I’m quite
certain my skill level is a ways off from it even being a
consideration. To be honest, I still think of any success in
the fly-fishing department as pure dumb luck on my part.
Or dumb luck combined with a stubbornness that gets and
keeps me on the water as often and as long as possible. Kind
of the blind-squirrel-and-the-nut theory. Throw enough bad
casts and you’re bound to hook into something... eventually.
There are always a few gullible fish in most any water.
But I have acquaintances that reside in Stage Four.
Like my buddy Geoff Shirley, who is a dry-fly purist
and delights in taking me to some of the most nerve-racking
locations possible. Places like Silver Creek, where the fish
are so damn smart, the drifts so damn slow, and the micro-
currents so damn impossible to read that I didn’t dare blink
for fear that my presentation would offend these most
snooty of trout. He loved it. But it sent me cascading back
down the stages like a clown on a unicycle. Big fish? Ha, I
could forget about that. Fine, how about lots of fish of any
size? Oh, you silly, silly man. Okay, okay, just one fish? Any
fish. Please, for the love of God, something! No sir. None for
you, you transcendently-terrible angler. In fact, it’s probably
best if you sell all of your gear, torch the waders, and remove
any incriminating stickers from your vehicle post-haste; you
are an embarrassment to the sport.
 Or my friend, Brad Befus, who recently told me, and
I quote, that carp are “the best gamefish ever for the long
rod.” Bold words, Brad. Not muskie or steelhead or tarpon?
Do tell. He went on to explain that they are “technical,
unforgiving of poor presentation, and just simply hard to
pattern.” I still didn’t see the draw; ugly fish that are really
hard to catch...it just didn’t have that ring to it. Though I
will admit to a passing pang of desire to chase them after
this conversation.
Or Landon Mayer. I had the opportunity to spend some
time on the water with Landon this past year in Colorado
and, let me tell you, this guy lives in Stage Four. It was spring
and still frosty, with few bugs hatching. The insects that were
out were tiny – as in size 24-to-28 tiny. Dust-particle tiny.
And the water was low and clear, holding fish sporting IQ’s
in the upper 170s. You could see them, sure, but casting
without putting them down was another matter entirely.
And this is what he lives for. Tying on microscopic flies with
7x and making perfect drifts to fool spooky fish. I could
barely find the fly when I was holding it in my hand, let
alone on the water. And tying on 7x? Forget it. I managed it
once, made a few drifts with my Baetis-shaped dust particle,
and gave up. Then proceeded to secure a streamer and flog
the water with righteous indignation. But watching Landon
do his thing was a work of pure Stage-Four art. I appreciated
it, but would need many more years before considering
taking up residence.
I also had the chance to fish with Jeff Currier last
summer. Yeah, the Jeff Currier. The one in books and on
TV and lecturing around the world. The Catch and Release
IGFA World Record holder. The National Fresh Water
Fishing Hall of Fame record holder. The one who has well ever to take home a medal in the 30-year history of the
over 400 species of fish on the fly to his name, from parts Championships. Legitimate Stage-Four stuff.
of the world I can’t even pronounce. Exotic fish. Terrifying But in Jeff I could also glimpse “Stage Five”, the stage
fish. Gigantic fish. Magazine-cover fish. in which you just want to go fishing. For all that it is. The
But, on a drive out to the Henry’s Fork, he shared with place. The beauty. The quiet. The reflection. Where catching
me that his greatest catch of all time was an unassuming becomes secondary to simply “being.”
trout he managed to stalk, pattern, hook, and land while Now, don’t get me wrong, Jeff loves, and I mean loves,
representing the U.S. Fly Fishing Team, leading them to land fish. It’s heartening to see a guy who has fished for
to their first ever top-ten finish in the World Fly Fishing so many years in so many places with so much success still
Championships in Spain. During the competition Jeff get excited about netting a relatively average cutthroat on his
managed to fool fish on every venue and placed third in home water. But for Jeff, the joy is in the total experience;
the individual standings, becoming the first American Stage Five. And I find myself here more often lately. I haven’t

20 The Soul of Fly Fishing

earned it the way Geoff or Brad or Landon or Currier have,
and I’ll admit to a slight detour around Stage Four, but Stage
Five is a fabulous place to spend some time.
There are two key elements to Stage Five – not really
their own stages, but additives that make it even better.
The first is setting.
I still love chasing big trout and will always prefer lobbing
streamers to most any other type of fishing, with terrestrials
placing a close second (I’m still not comfortable with subtle
presentations and tiny flies – preferring instead something
that “plops” when it hits the water). But more and more I’d
take a quiet beautiful place with few other anglers and a © Photo Scientific Anglers
couple small fish over a less alluring, and perhaps busier,
location that holds bigger ones.
Fishermen are fond of saying that trout reside in
beautiful places, and that is certainly true, though I’ve
pulled some giants out of some downright ugly ones as
well. But give me the bucolic beauty of a less popular river
in Northern Michigan, or an alpine lake tucked well into
the Idaho or Wyoming backcountry, or the small stream in
Montana that doesn’t get a lot of press, but offers stunning
vistas, quiet solitude, and every now and then gives up a
respectable resident.
flyfusionmag.com 21

Fishing, after all, is a form of escape and, if that is true,
one must rightfully ask, from what am I escaping? Noise?
Busyness? The modern world? The fast-paced competitive
grind of my daily job?
Yes, place absolutely matters.
On the opposite side of solitude is the final, and
perhaps most important, ingredient, and that is with whom
I fish. It’s like the smoked paprika in a perfect chili. Good
without it, but so much better with it.
Like ugly places, I’m just too old to endure ugly
personalities, and these days prefer the company of those
I truly enjoy. Unlike in my younger years, the hours and
minutes no longer seem limitless. So, the recognition that
each one matters – that each grain of sand in the hourglass
is precious – makes me carefully consider who I fish with.
I still enjoy chasing blue lines in solitude on
occasion, but, more often than not, I savour spending
these moments in these beautiful places, fish or no fish,
with a small circle of close friends and family. Folks
who see it the same - maybe not the world, but at least
fishing’s place in it. And who also understand the delicate
balance of solitude and camaraderie. Who no longer
feel the need to fill the quiet with empty chatter. Who
may, in fact, speak very few words at all. But when we
do talk, the conversations are often deep and meaningful
22 The Soul of Fly Fishing
© Photo Scientific Anglers
or, conversely, light and hilarious – somehow these
curated companions intuitively understand what is
needed at the moment.
I recently read a Gierach quote that said this: “I never
looked for perfect people to be my friends for fear of going
through life friendless. It’s just that we get along, see most things
the same way, and can disagree peacefully. Some of us can talk
politics for hours and get mad as hell, though not at each other,
but with others it’s a lot easier to travel and fish together if we
don’t talk politics, except maybe in the most general terms. I
mean the fate of democracy is one thing, but someone you can
fish with is another.”
And this describes my circle. Not perfect people, real
people, willing to give some of the sand in their hourglass
to another, imperfect person. These friends and family
members are multipliers. They capture all that is right
about fishing, about being outdoors, and about being
alive and then increase it exponentially. Almost Biblical in
their ability to take my five meagre loaves and two small
fish and miraculously materialize a feast fit for 5,000. Or
a simple day on the water, compounded into something
even greater than a first fish, a mess of fish, or even a giant.
To slow, for a brief time, the sand in the hourglass, and
help me see, with a clarity only found on a river together,
what really matters.
 Red Surge
Reaping the rewards of saying Yes
All photos Dana Harrison
Jake Hale
Jake knows how lucky
he is to have found fly
fishing. Although thoughts
of buoyant indicators
occasionally haunt his
dreams, he still intends
to plan his weekends
and vacations with trout
in mind. “I’m nothing but
grateful for what this sport
has given me,” he says.

24 The Soul of Fly Fishing

W
hen my good friend
Dana and I last said our
goodbyes, we, along with
everyone else, had no
idea how dramatically
the world was about to be altered. But had the
fish changed? Had the rivers stayed the same? We
wanted to find out. From Dana’s lips escaped the
name of a river from our shared past. My heart
ached for time on the water.
With the leaves falling around me, I packed
light. No tent, no extra gear, no man’s best friend,
just me in a truck tucked into a sleeping bag.
Only the essentials for this trip: food, water, gear
and, to prevent catastrophe, two rods. I felt like
my internal engine had clogged; my soul’s fire
needed to be re-lit.

flyfusionmag.com 25
26 The Soul of Fly Fishing
 It was. Bull trout. Unexpected at this time of
year. Why were they sharing the pool with the
fat cutt-bows? Could they be spawning? Surely
not here—that would take place later, and higher
up—so what was it? Then my eyes adjusted and I
saw it…crimson. Like a maple leaf. Like The Red
Serge of the RCMP. Like the lifeblood of the river.
It was the kokanee. Their presence was surely
an anomaly, I thought, but the river didn’t care
what I thought; here they were. And here were the
bulls. And here were Dana and I.
It took one pass with the fly before the line
tightened. The pool erupted with fish. My reel
screamed. It showed yellow, green, then orange
backing. The violent head shakes and erratic
pulls eventually gave way; a scoop of the net and
the battle was over. Soon the tired warrior was
released back into the dark blue.

flyfusionmag.com 27
 When the action died down, we walked
through the red and orange-hued woods, the
recent experience at the kokanee pool helping
give the forest a surreal tinge. It was more than
that, though. Each corner, though familiar, was
completely different than what my memory held.
I passed across a braid that I didn’t remember, but
when I approached a scree slope with a sharp drop
and a deep pool in front, I knew I must have tossed
a dry upon the surface in the past. When that
didn’t work this time, a subsurface presentation
did. The line went tight. Our luck hadn’t run out
yet.
The cutbows were willing to take a nymph,
but to my delight, on the first drift of the last corner
of the river, as a nose nudged my orange indicator,
they let us know that they’d be fine with feasting
on top, too. Off came the bead heads, on came the
brown and yellow fat Alberts. We only needed to
ski the fly along the surface momentarily before
an explosion of water and colour would occur. I
moved down to the next pool, thirsty for another
rise.
It wasn’t to be. After no sniffs on more than
a few perfect drifts of the dry, I reached for the
nymph box once more. Soon I was reaching for
the net as I watched the indicator dive below the
surface. But this fight felt different. This was no
cutbow. It was heavy. It was dogged. It was another
bull trout, but more stubborn. It felt like it had
jammed itself into the mud. Then it ran, upstream
first, then down, using the current to switch gears
faster than I could chase her. Then I ran! I flailed
over the ankle-rollers for more than 100 meters.
Finally, the fish began to tire.
As she slid into the net, Dana and I again shared a
knowing glance. This was the culmination of our
journey. We were connected again. The engine was
purring. The fire had been relit. All it took was to
say yes. ’

28 The Soul of Fly Fishing

 Salty. And Sweet.
What perfect saltwater fly rod dreams are made of.

Scott Fly Rod Company | Handcrafted at 2355 Air Park Way, Montrose, Colorado 81401 | 970.249.3180 | www.scottflyrod.com
Last Angler on
Katherine Lake
Stocked fish poisoned to protect
native trout in Banff’s high alpine
Bob Covey
O
n August 8, 2021, I was hunkered down
on a flat rock high above Dolomite Pass
in Banff National Park, digging through
my pack to locate my cheap pair of
Bushnells.
Chomping a sandwich and glassing the surrounding
mountains, I watched as scramblers made their way up
nearby Cirque Peak and a group of backpackers tramped
through the meadows below, their hiking poles clicking
on the trail. Somewhere in the surrounding rubble,
picas sounded their urgent alarms while overhead,
clouds were piling up. Just when the cumuli threatened
to darken, however, the would-be storm moved on,
allowing scattershot beams of sunlight to burn through
and highlight my destination, 500 metres or so down a
glacier-scraped slope.
Long and narrow, nestled beneath the rugged crags
of Dolomite Peak, I had been dreaming about Katherine
Lake since the week before my visit, when I hastily
cobbled together plans to hike into the area with a group
of people I’d never met before. The internet’s fickleness
didn’t disappoint, for despite the grand ambitions of those
showing interest in coming along, I was by myself. That
was ok by me. As I scanned the shoreline intently, I soon
found what I was after. Few things are more promising to
a person alone in the backcountry with a fishing rod than
the tell-tale rings of fish rising. The sun glinted off the
expanding ripples and I winked back. Shouldering my
pack, I practically sprinted to the lake.
The summer before, I could have gone through a
similar routine while peering down at this popular trail’s
namesake. If there were insects hatching or being blown
onto the surface of Helen Lake, surely I could have
spotted the odd rise of an Eastern Brook Trout, a red and
green-speckled non-native beloved by anglers over for its
beauty, fighting strength and willingness to take a lure
or fly.
On the day of my visit, however, Helen Lake was
devoid of rise ripples. In August of 2020, Parks Canada
biologists used a fish-specific toxicant called rotenone to
rid Helen Lake of brook trout, an effort to reverse the
now-out-of-vogue fish stocking programs of decades past
and subsequently reintroduce genetically-pure, native
species to connecting streams. Some anglers called the
fish kill blasphemy, a righteous and exorbitant initiative
that deprives anglers of an experience that helps foster
national park stewardship. BNP aquatics specialist Shelley
Humphries, on the other hand, called it restoration.
“Westslope cutthroat are probably occupying less
than 10 per cent of their historic distribution,” Humphries
said in a 2020 interview.
Along with being outcompeted, hybridization with
introduced fish has depleted the westslope gene pool. Bob Covey
In the Bow River drainage, for the most part, stocked Journalist, editor and
rainbow trout are doing the hybridizing, however, there’s photographer Bob Covey grew
another culprit that, after seven decades of spawning in up near the tannic tributaries
Canada’s mountain parks, has mixed with the natives: the of the Red Deer River, but it
wasn’t until he moved to the
Yellowstone cutthroat. Yellowstone cutthroat are prized
Rockies that he picked up
as gamefish. Because they feed primarily on insects as a fly rod. Of course he was
adults (unlike brown trout, for example, which are more never the same. When he’s
piscivorous), they are particularly sporting for fly anglers. not stepping on lego or white-
And as I had just witnessed through my binoculars, knuckling deadlines for the
Katherine Lake was full of them. independent newspaper he
founded in 2013, he’s dowsing
As I stared intently at my casted-out fly, its yellow
for trout and dreaming
fibres barely discernible in the glare of the midday sun, of powder days in Jasper
I raised more than a few eyebrows among the Gortex- National Park.
clad family members hiking out of the Dolomite Valley.
Soon enough, however, the presentation was raising the
interest of an even more colourful character; the dark
snout of a cutthroat pierced the surface of the water. In
my excitement I struck too early and missed the take. A
curse word echoed around the natural amphitheatre and
I saw the pre-teen hiker heading up the boot-beaten path
crane his neck in wonder. Had he stuck around, he might
have seen the next fish stick to my tiny hook. No matter,
it was to be just myself and the cutties. Normally if I
have the honour of landing such a gorgeous fish in such
a special place I’d go through a ritual of thanks before
releasing it back to its aqueous home. Since Parks Canada
staff were going to be there in less than 24 hours with
their rotenone, however, I used my hiking pole to bonk
the 16-inch trout between the eyes.
“It’s either today or tomorrow, fella,” I mumbled
before wrapping it in wet grass.
It wasn’t until the 1970s that Parks Canada began
to look at trout habitat through a naturalist’s lens and
flyfusionmag.com 31
 the fulsome stocking programs of the past became
passé. Fish hatcheries in Banff, Jasper and Waterton
were decommissioned as the agency wanted to leave
waterbodies in their natural state. The problem, of
course, was that the damage had been done. Brook trout
in particular didn’t get the memo that policy change
was afoot.
“[Park managers] were definitely trying to leave space
for native fish but by the time they made that decision it
was kind of too late for some of them,” Humphries said.
Fifty years or so later, depending on your point of
view, those wrongs are being righted. On August 9, 2021,
the day after I landed seven magnificent Yellowstone
cutthroat and lost a half dozen more in one of the most
© Photo Kodiak Morasky
32 The Soul of Fly Fishing
spectacular valleys I’ve ever had the pleasure of casting
a fly, aquatics specialists were dripping rotenone into
Katherine Lake. This past spring they gave the same
treatment to Hidden Lake, also in Banff National Park.
Rotenone, a toxicant that originates from a tropical bean
plant and which Indigenous people from French Guiana
have traditionally used to harvest fish, doesn’t affect
mammals or birds and because its active compound is
broken down by sunlight, water and turbulence, it does
not remain in the water. Still, to facilitate the restoration
operation, Parks Canada closed the Helen Lake/Dolomite
Pass area to the public for nearly three weeks, enforcing
a no-stopping zone at the trailhead and warning that
anyone contravening these measures could be hit with a
$25,000 fine.
If that seems severe, Parks Canada has said it takes its
mandate to protect and restore ecological integrity very
seriously. The no-stopping zone was in place to ensure
road safety around waters that are being neutralized, the
agency said in a press release. Park users familiar with
the rotenone process will know that as a result of the
neutralizing agent, the affected waters temporarily turn
pink—a tourist traffic jam waiting to happen if there ever
was one.
As an angler, knowing that Katherine Lake’s
Yellowstone cutts are a thing of the past is disheartening,
to be sure. I can think of few better ways to introduce my
young kids to the richness of the outdoors than by casting
to willing fish surrounded by protected wilderness.
But then I think of the issues faced by the westslope
cutthroat, a species that survived over millennia only
to be persecuted to near-extinction in the last 100 years
(their current status in Alberta is threatened) by habitat
destruction, over-harvesting and mishandling, and I
know there’s…(ahem) bigger fish to fry.
Alberta is home to some of the most abundant
trout angling opportunities in the world. We can spend
a lifetime lamenting the loss of stocked waters in our
national parks, but unless we start paying attention to big
picture threats such as coal mining, clearcutting and road
building for the fossil fuel industry, there will come a day
when, no matter how intently we scan the shoreline, no
rises will appear.
 Go where
the fish are.

That moment when the planning and hard work pays off Connecting anglers with fish for over 25 years.
because you just landed the fish that no one else could reach. Learn more at watermasterrafts.com

Chase Bohning
Chase Bohning grew up
in the Rockies, but it
wasn’t until after high
school that he cut his
fly fishing teeth on the
small streams and rivers
he found there. Unlocking
the mysteries of new
or forgotten places
containing mythic trout
is his M.O. In pursuit of
those enigmas, he enjoys
the never-ending lessons
afforded by fly fishing
and photography.
34 The Soul of Fly Fishing
Hook-Bending,
Mind-Blending
Wild brook trout on a forgotten realm
Chase Bohning
M
y grandfather spoke of big, wild brook
trout. Living near the Rockies, he wasn’t
talking about the famous fish from
Labrador, but the originally-stocked,
wild-producing bruisers in area lakes.
He spoke of waters that held seven pounders. These stories,
and these fish, lingered in my thoughts. When my brother
and I were old enough, we searched for them.
Seeds sown
We knew the places—and the fish—had very likely changed
in two generations; we might find nothing. Waters with
zero reproduction. But we also knew there was a chance
… a chance they were there. We put in our miles because
of what might be. A forgotten realm.
A dream.
Space invader
Non-native eastern brook trout are often decried as invasive:
a hybridizer and an occupier, stunted and dull. But my
family puts them on a pedestal. Rather than derivative, we
think of them as divine. It may be the infinite spectrum of
hues which glisten on their flanks, it may be their predatory
predilection, but whatever it is, when I think of brookies, I
feel an ember glowing brighter somewhere inside my heart.
Minute and mind-bending
The charcoal-black tuxedo sharp against the white-cuff
of their belly gives way to a silhouetted sunset of red,
orange and yellow. A cosmos of stars is revealed in the
spots: a galactic cluster of blue-haloed planetary nebulas.
Between the heavenly bodies, a stern camouflage—like
grub trails through a spruce tree—is painted to an
exacting level of deception. A seemingly paradoxical
combination: bold and yet subtle; bright and yet
concealed. In tannic habitat they sport the dark green
and bronze helmet of a jungle sniper. From clear waters,
their silver-blue is more like a valiant knight. From their
sooty mouth, white teeth protrude like needle-tipped
grains of rice.
Eastern promises
Pursuit of trout in their native waters is a pure and noble
ambition, but as an angler in the west, I treat my occasions
of chasing brook trout as an adventure, a chance to observe
another environmentally-unique fish and an opportunity to
connect with my favourite char on a level that I wasn’t sure
existed when my grandfather spoke of his former haunts.
Imagination
Sometimes, when conditions line up, I can make that
connection. Even less commonly, I can capture the
photographic evidence. And rarely, a photo can begin to
do their kaleidoscopic grace some justice.
More often, however, the fleeting glance will have
to suffice.
flyfusionmag.com 35
36 The Soul of Fly Fishing
 Fifty Flies to
Try Before
You Die
Innovative yet simple
nymphs, dries and streamers
to help you hook up
Jeremy Davies

E
very year I create five or ten new fly patterns that I test on several of my favourite
waters throughout the year. Some yield amazing success, enticing me to immediately
tie several dozen to load my fly boxes. Others patterns do not perform as well and
as a result I either stop tying them or I make improvements to the prototype.
© Photo Nathaniel Wilder

Currently I have in the neighbourhood of 100 different patterns which I am either

fishing or experimenting with. For part one of this top 50 flies feature, I will focusing on 25 flies
for late summer and fall fishing. In the future, I’ll highlight another 25 flies that can be fished
with a particular focus on late winter to late summer.

38 The Soul of Fly Fishing

 Nymphs
All of the nymphs below have
been thoroughly tested by myself
and/or colleagues or friends with
great success. During late summer
or fall I tend to fish nymph
patterns in smaller sizes that have
less flash. Nymphing is often a
game of stealth as the water is low
and super clear. It’s my belief that
flies should reflect that reality.
Fusion Weevil
My custom nymph for Fly Fusion subscribers,
also a very effective late season nymph.
Hook: Scud Hook sz 10-18
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread Black
Head: Black bead
Body: Ice Dub Fl Yellow
Thorax: Arizona Dubbing black
Shellback: Uni-Mylar Pearl
Legs: Black goose biots
Tail: Black schlappen fibres
Rib: Black wire
Psycho Prince Black/Orange
A brand-new Psycho Prince that trout haven’t
seen before. Great stripped in!
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread Black
Hook: 1X long nymph hook sz 10-18
Body/thorax: Black ice dubbing or Hares Ear
dubbing
Rib: Orange wire
Shellback: Black Schlappen
Tail: Black goose biots
Legs: White goose biots
Hollywood Hare’s Ear
A much flashier version of the standard gold-
ribbed Hare’s Ear that is most effective when
the rivers are off colour due to rain.
Hook: 1x long Nymph hook sz 8-12
Thread: Tan Uni-thread 8/0
Bead: Gold
Weight: Lead wire (optional)
Body : Hareline Hares Dubbing
Thorax: Hareline Hares Ear Dubbing
Wingcase/Shellback: Uni-Mylar Pearl
Tail: Pheasant Fibres mixed with krystal flash
Rib: Gold wire
Legs: Krystal Flash
Jeremy’s Hare’s Ear
An excellent searching nymph that can be
used most of the year. The two-tone colour is
an improvement from the standard Hare’s Ear.
Hook: Nymph hook 1x long sz 12-18
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread Olive
Head: Gold bead
Body: Hareline brown dubbing
Thorax: Arizona Dubbing Natural Peacock
Shellback: Uni-Mylar Pearl
Tail: Female ringneck pheasant fibres
Rib: gold wire
Plain Jane Weevil
The Plain Jane is designed to be more subtle in
low and clear water conditions.
Hook: Scud Hook sz 14-20
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread Black
Head: Black bead
Body: Arizona Dub pheasant
Thorax: Arizona Dubbing Natural Peacock
Shellback: Thin Skin Mottled Oak
Legs: Brown goose biots
Tail: Female ringneck pheasant fibres
Rib: gold wire
flyfusionmag.com 39
 BWO Killer
A great pattern for mimicking blue winged
olive nymphs or midge larvae. Simple to tie and
very effective.

Hook: Scud Hook sz 10-18 Hook: Scud hook sz 14-20

Evil Weevil Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread Olive or black Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread Olive
This is my signature fly pattern. It’s simply one
Head: Gold bead Head: Gold bead
of the greatest searching patterns I have ever
Body: Arizona Dubbing Light Peacock Body: Olive thread
fished.
Thorax: Arizona Dubbing Natural Peacock Thorax: Ice Dub Olive
Shellback: Uni-Mylar Pearl Tail: Brown Floss
Legs: Brown goose biots Rib: gold wire
Tail: Female pheasant fibres
Rib: Gold wire

Purple Tungstud Acetone Anchor Worm Psycho Prince Olive

A heavy, low-flash nymph that is best fished in (Improved) A very effective alternative to the popular
low, clear conditions, especially in the fall. Extremely heavy worm with a new, more standard Psycho Prince, tied in purple.
realistic shape.
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread purple or black Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread olive
Hook: Scud sz 10-18 Hook: Diiachi sz 2-12 Hook: 1X long nymph hook sz 10-18
Head: Tung black or nickel black bead Bead: Red Glass Body/thorax: Olive ice dubbing
Body: Purple Thread Body: Lead and Acetate Floss- dipped in Rib: Gold or copper wire
Thorax: Grey dubbing acetone Shellback: pheasant Tail
Rib: Gold or copper wire Rib: Red wire Tail: Brown goose biots
Wingcase: Thinskin Legs: Black Schappen
Tail: black schlappen
Legs: Black Schappen

40 The Soul of Fly Fishing

 Dry Flies

Dry fly fishing in late summer

into fall can be a very
challenging but rewarding
experience. The water is
typically low and clear; trout
are often spooky or cautious. At
this time of year, trout have been
pursued by anglers through the
spring and summer, which also
adds to their wariness. Insects
Thorax Grey Drake BWO Antron Emerger also tend to be smaller at this
A great imitation of a mayfly that comes out A low-riding BWO dry that has great hooking
time of year, which only adds
in late summer or early fall. I caught many nice power with a scud hook.
cutthroats in late August and early September to the difficulty. The notable
with this dry on several streams in western Hook: Light wire scud hook sz 14-20 exceptions are terrestrials such
Canada. Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread olive as grasshoppers and ants which
Body: fine Antron dubbing BWO olive are still finding their way onto
Hook: Standard dry fly hook sz 10-12 Wing: Dun antron our streams on hot or windy
Thread: Uni-thread Black 8/0 Hackle: light or medium dun
days. Dries designed for fishing
Body: Grey or Adams Grey fine antron dubbing Rib: Black thread
Wing: Black antron or Widows Web Tail: Olive antron yarn at this time must consider all of
Hackle: Dun Dark or medium these factors.
Rib: Black thread
Tail: dark grey or black antron

Hook: 2x long dry fly hook sz 4-12

Fat Albert Thread: Uni-Thread 6/0 or
An extremely buoyant and versatile attractor
8/0-color of your choice om
that mimics a wide variety of terrestrial
Body: Foam color of your choice- Visit flyfusionmag.c
tterns!
for 3 more dry fly pa
insects. Great for using above a tungsten
two layers
dropper.
Wing: Antron yarn
Legs: Rubber legs
Indicator: Bright colored foam

Hook: Standard dry fly hook

Green Splash Beetle sz 12-16
The metallic sheen of the foam and the bright
Thread: Uni-thread Black 8/0
indicator make this a very easy fly to see.
Body: Ice Dub Olive
Hump: Green Metallic Loco
Foam
Legs: micro rubber black
Strike Indicator: Orange or
Yellow Foam
Tail: Krystal Flash (optional)

flyfusionmag.com 41
 amateur fly tiers across North
America, with a focus on tying
needs, habits, and preferences.
The form and function of a tying
desk creates the cornerstone of
an enhanced tying experience.
Each of Drew’s desks are
made from kiln-dried, grade-A
wood that undergoes rigorous
inspection prior to being
selected for use. His specialty
is custom fly-tying desks made
with reclaimed wood, steel and
live edge slabs. He crafts every
drawer from hardwoods using
dovetail joinery that results
in strong furniture created to
last generations.
What caught our attention
in Denver so many years ago is

A
few years ago, we ran into Drew Allman that Drew is not chasing money, but instead crafting an
in Colorado, where we were introduced experience through the desks and benches he creates. He
to his work. To the benefit of tiers around is on a genuine mission to provide tiers with a one-of-a-
North America, he is a master craftsman kind environment that will allow them to become lost in
and fly tier who combined is passions to their tying experience. Ultimately, he is using his talents to
produce some of the most stunning tying benches. provide the option of a stress-free sanctuary for those of
He is a fly-tying desk maker who understands that the us who tie. For that we tip our worn-out fly-fishing hats
fly-tying experience begins with a functional work space. to Drew:
There are, of course, those moments in the back country www.tie-craft.com
when a tree branch and an old-school
c-clamp vise are what’s required, but that’s
not what we’re talking about here. These
desks are for that unique space in the lodge,
home or cabin dedicated to your tying craft.
They are what rooms are designed around.
Whether your desk is fly-tying messy, as
ours often is, or pristinely neat, with each
tool and piece of material in its place, Drew’s
designs accommodate.
He believes a desk must be truly
functional, beautiful and designed around
how you tie. Each desk is hand-crafted based
on years of feedback from professional and

42 The Soul of Fly Fishing

 Thorax Weevil
A very subtle general dun pattern that is great
for fishing in tail outs of most streams.
Hook: Standard dryfly hook sz 10-20
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread Black
Body: Olive antron dubbing
Thorax: Arizona Dubbing Natural Peacock
Wing: White antron
Hackle: Grizzly
Tail: Black antron
Rib: Black thread
Black Gnat Antron Emerger Arizona Dot
A great dry for arctic grayling, the Black Gnat An extremely simple and effective midge
Antron Emerger can be used to imitate both imitation.
Midges and Trico’s, when necessary.
Hook: Scud hook sz 12-18
Hook: Light wire scud hook sz 14-20 Thread: Uni-Thread 8/0 Olive or black
Thread: Uni-Thread 8/0 black Body: Arizona Dubbing Natural Peacock
Body: Antron dubbing black Wing/indicator: orange antron yarn
Hackle: black Hackle: Grizzly
Wing: Florescent orange or pink antron yarn
Tail: Black antron fibers

B.C.’S
GO-TO
SPECIALTY

FLY
SHOP
FOLLOW US
Best day ever...

MYFLYSHOP.COM myflyshop
1.800.663.6407
SURREY VANCOUVER
10484 Whalley Blvd. #105-1245 W. Broadway
Surrey, BC, V3T 4H5 Vancouver, BC, V6C 3E8
604.588.2833 604.639.2278

STEELHEAD/SPEY SPECIALISTS • EXPERT STAFF • FULL SELECTION OF COURSES • MOST ORDERS SHIPPED WITHIN 24 HOURS
 Streamers

I do not fish much with streamers

in the fall as most of my focus is
fishing with smaller nymphs or
stalking spooky fish in clear water
with tiny dries. However, if I do get
the chance to target big bulls and
the occasional larger, aggressive
brown, I want to have a box of
streamers that I feel confident
with. In these incidences my
patterns have primarily centred
around minnow imitations. The
patterns below are all proven
trout producers which deserve a
try in your favourite waters.
Brook Trout Wart
A tiny streamer pattern that is great for
small brookies. I did very well with this fly in
September 2016, fishing a high mountain lake
for brookies and cutthroats.
Hook: 2 X long Nymph or scud Hook sz 10 to 12
Thread: Black or Olive Uni-Thread 8/0
Head: micro eyes brass or lead
Body: Light Peacock Arizona Dubbing
Hackle: grizzly or black
Rib: Fine gold wire
Legs: Uni-Flexx Dark brown or black
Tail: Olive Marabou, krystal Flash (optional)
Big Head Bugger
The ultimate streamer for targeting big bulls
in late summer and early fall. This streamer
will catch this large char even in the deepest
pools.
Hook: 3X long Streamer hook sz 2
Head: large silver or black nickel cone
Thread: Unithread 8/0 red
Weight: Lead wrapped over hook shank
Body: White chenille
Collar: White antron hackle
Hackle: Grizzly or black
Tails: White Marabou with krystal flash
Rib: gold wire

Still Setting
www.tflats.com the Standards
888-512-8812 Great Fishing
Outstanding Guides
Excellent Food & Service
Conservation Leadership
Scuba Diving & Eco Tour
Packages Available

Be Pampered in
Paradise
Marabou Mickey
A much more lifelike version of the standard
Mickey Finn. A fabulous brown trout streamer.
Hook: 3x long streamer hook sz 8-12
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread black or tan
Head: Gold or Silver bead
Weight: lead (optional)
Head: Bead in gold, red or black
Body: Ice Dub Minnow Belly
Wings: yellow and Red Marabou
Tail: Yellow Marabou with Krystal Flash
Bugger Worm
An awesome streamer for fishing under an
indicator the entire season.
Hook: 3X long Streamer hook sz 8 to 12
Thread: Unithread 8/0 Red or black
Head: Bead colour of your choice
Weight: Lead wrapped over hook shank
Body: Micro red chenille
Hackle: Grizzly or black
Tails: Red Marabou
Legs: Red UniFlexx
Rib: fine gold wire
Simi Minnow
A simple, lifelike and very effective
minnow imitation.
Hook: 3x long streamer hook sz 4-12
Thread: 8/0 Uni-Thread red
Weight: lead (optional)
Head: black or black nickel bead
Body: Silver holographic tinsel
Thorax: Simi Seal Minnow
Tail: Yellow Marabou with Krystal Flash
Other than hanging out
with my eight-year-old son
Will, there is little I enjoy more
than spending hours at the vise,
creating new and exciting fly
patterns. I am always trying
to improve my patterns so I
can have the most productive
trip possible on all the streams
I fish. This is especially true
during low, clear water in late
fall/early spring. A nymph that
is big and flashy might attract
fish during high murky water
in early summer but will likely
scare or spook them in early fall.
When creating any pattern, you
always have to anticipate the
conditions as well as the bugs
on the water. I have supplied
you with 25 tried and tested
flies. Try them and test them for
yourself and if you feel you can
improve them, go for it!
 ON THE VISE

Dana Harrison
Dana feels that he is not
just a fly fisher and tyer,
but a steward for the
streams and lakes we
enjoy. He is passionate
for positive change
in our industry, with a
focus on preserving our
environment for
future generations.
Confessions from
a Wing Nut
W
hen I first started tying dry flies,
I stuck to two styles of wings:
deer hair and parachute.
This wasn’t because the deer
hair (or elk hair) wing and the
parachute wing caught all the fish, rather, I tied them
exclusively because I found them the easiest to tie. Wings
can be a challenge for any tyer, novice or advanced,
whether it’s the wing placement, proportions, thread
control, material-handling…or all of the above. That
old adage that when you find something you are
comfortable with, you stick with it, was as true for me

Elk Hair Caddis

Hook: Tiemco TMC103BL #17
Thread: UTC 70D - Brown
Wing: Nature’s Spirit - Elk Hair
Body: Ice Dub - Pheasant
Hackle: Metz Saddle Hackle - Badger

46 The Soul of Fly Fishing

as for anyone else.
But I did like tying parachutes. While parachutes
have a bit of a reputation for being tough to tie—getting
the posts to stand straight tends to frustrate some—for
whatever reason, they just made sense to me. And as
far as the elk hair, it’s simply a dry fly staple I forced
myself to learn.
Caddis shack
Where I grew up—and where I still call home today—
is only minutes from the mighty Columbia River in
southern B.C. Here the caddis hatches are prolific and
(particularly if you’re a fly tyer) profound. During a
hatch event, when the river boils and bubbles with
hundreds of fish taking innumerable caddis, your
imitation has to be spot on. The deer hair/elk hair wing
style can be used on a variety of flies, but the most
well-known is the elk hair caddis. It’s an uber-classic;
a simple pattern with few materials, but getting them
all to come together does require a bit of patience.
Once you have the style dialled, however, whipping
up a dozen elk hair caddis a great way to quickly fill a
fly box with a tried-and-true standard. But don’t limit
yourself to caddis, the deer or elk hair wing can be
applied to all sorts of patterns. Two of my favourite
flies that utilize this style of wing are Amy’s Ant and
the Hippie Stomper.
In Todd we trust
The elk hair wing is a classic, but I was also drawn to
the parachute style of dry flies, perhaps because they
looked a bit more modern than some of the traditional
patterns—in other words, because I thought they
looked cool. Regardless, I figured out how to quickly
tie one up. As an admittedly lazy fly tyer, the faster I
can produce a pattern, the better. Because I had an early
preference for parachutes, I can now tie a Parachute
Adam’s faster than the traditional Adam’s with the split
wings.
As far as I could discern, the origins of the
parachute style go back to a female Scottish tyer named
Helen Todd. The evolution of tying-in a post and the
surrounding hackle was thanks to Ms. Todd’s interest
and research regarding the American idea that hackle
which was tied in as “spent” would yield more fish.
Anglers will have to decide for themselves whether or
not this is true, but personally, I favour the parachute
over any other wing style. My go-to dry flies, the ones
that I can always fish confidently, are the Purple Haze
and Parachute Adams. Many other patterns, such as
the March Brown, can also be tied as a parachute.
Wally’s world
Whether they know its name or not, most fly anglers
love a good Wally Wing mayfly. Simple, artistic and
super fishy, the Wally Wing has a special place in my
heart, but when I first encountered a fly with a Wally
Wing, I figured the pattern was way above my skill
set. I didn’t think I would ever be able to tie one.
Turns out that it wasn’t nearly as hard as I imagined;
moreover, after playing around with Wally Wings for a
while, I discovered the Wonder Wing technique. What
differentiates the two methods (which both culminate
in a similar-looking finished product) is the number
of feathers used. The wonder wing uses two feathers,
while the Wally Wing uses only one, separated into
two wings. Each style has its place in fly tying and
when employed properly, brings the level of realism
up a notch.
The Wally Wing was invented by
Canadian Wally Lutz sometime in the
1970s, but to be honest, I have a hard
time believing that the technique wasn’t
utilized until then. To me the style
absolutely screams traditional fly tying.
The other part of the Wally Wing’s
origin story that was a bit nebulous was
any information on Mr. Lutz himself.
For a guy that (supposedly) invented
one the greatest wing techniques in the
Parachute March Brown
Hook: Tiemco TMC103BL #13
history of tying, there is very little in the Thread: Semperfli NanoSilk 18/0 - Brown
history books that I could find about Post: Calf Hair - Orange
him. What I could uncover was that he Tail: Moose Mane
was a railroader: a locomotive engineer Body: Semperfli Kapok Dubbing
who also dabbled in photography and - March Brown
Hackle: Metz Saddle Hackle - Brown
who still gets out fishing from time to
flyfusionmag.com 47
 then trim the mallard off at an angle. Continue to wrap

Wally Wings Adams back, covering the mallard and making a slight ramp.
Step 4: Select your tailing fibres of choice, these being
CDL. Tie them in over the bend of the hook and wrap
FEATURED RECIPE forward to lock them in, keeping the slight ramp.
Step 5: Trim off the excess tail fibres and return the
Recipe
Hook: Umpqua XT050 BN5X Tail: CDL thread to the back of the hook. Now create a dubbing
STUBBY T #14 Body: Semperfli Kapok Dubbing noodle of Adams’ coloured dubbing and wrap forward
Thread: Semperfli NanoSilk 18/0 - Adams to just before the mallard. Again, try to keep the ramp
- Black Hackle: Metz Saddle Hackle - in place.
Wing: Mallard Flank Grizzly Step 6: Select a grizzly hackle of suitable size for your
fly. Strip off some of the fibres and tie it in right behind
Step 1: Secure your hook in the vise and create thread the mallard.
based from one eye length behind the eye to about the Step 7: Create a thread dam in front of the mallard to
halfway point. End a little behind the eye. stand the wing upright.
Step 2: To prep the mallard flank, strip off all the fluff Step 8: Create a small dubbing noodle of Adams’ coloured
from the bottom end. Then preen back the fibres, while dubbing and dub in front of the mallard wing ending near
stroking them upward slightly. Tie in the mallard an eye the eye.
length behind the eye leaving a shank length of mallard Step 9: Wrap the grizzly hackle several times behind the
hanging out the front. mallard then once or twice in front. Capture the hackle
Step 3: Wrap back towards the bend a few millimetres with your thread before the eye and secure it in place.
 1 2 3

4 5 6

7 8 9 10

www.revolutionsadventures.com 250-688-7616

Royal Wulff
Hook: Tiemco TMC103BL #13
Thread: Semperfli NanoSilk 18/0 - Black
Wing: Calf Body Hair
Tail: Golden Pheasant Tippet
Body: Peacock Herl
Body Accent: Red Floss
Hackle: Metz Saddle Hackle - Brown
Origami Wing Caddis
Hook: Umpqua XT050 BN5X STUBBY T #14
Thread: Semperfli NanoSilk 18/0 - Brown
Butt: Semperfli Kapok Dubbing
- Caddis Green
Underwing: CDC Feathers - Dark Olive
Wing: Rooster Hackle - Origami Style
Body: SLF Squirrel Dubbing - Brown
Thorax: SLF Squirrel Dubbing
(in a dubbing loop) - Brown
50 The Soul of Fly Fishing
time.(If anyone reading this knows
Mr. Lutz, it would be great to confirm
this information). As Lutz was also
a commercial tyer at one point, it’s
plausible that many of us throwing
dries in the 1980s—certainly those
of us north of the border—have been
fortunate enough to have fished Wally
Wing-style fly tied by the man himself.
I would have been too young to have
counted myself in that group, but I am
honoured to carry on the Wally Wing
tradition and the technique today.
Battle Royal
The Royal Wulff is a fly that has always
piqued my attention, for a number of
reasons. For one, I recall numerous
variations of royal-style flies in my
dad’s fly box. These were probably
Royal Coachmens and Royal Wulffs, but
knowing my old man’s style, they were
as likely to be a mash up of just about
anything. Regardless, as a child, it was
hard not to be fascinated with the fluffy
hair wings of a Wulff fly.
The second reason I find this fly
interesting is the history behind it,
including the fuzzy details surrounding
its (most likely) original creator, Lee
Wulff. Wulff, of course, is synonymous
with hair wing flies and for that that
reason it’s understandable that his name
ended up in the history books as the
creator of the Royal Wulff. But there
is another branch of the story worth
knowing: back in the late 1920s, both
Lee Wulff and L.Q. Quackenbush were
working on hair wing substitutions for
dry files. While Lee Wulff dreamed up
a handful of hair-wing patterns which
all spawned the name Wulffs, Sir
Quackenbush was doing his best to turn
the Royal Coachman into a dry fly. The best part of this
narrative, to me anyway, is that the Royal Wulff could
have easily been called (and according to some in fact
was once called) the Quack Royal. That’s too perfect,
and ever since I discovered this historical anecdote,
the Quack Royal is how my inner circle of weirdo fly
fishers and I refer to the Royal Wulff.
Origami Wings: the rooster booster
How I refer to the next style of wing is with respect.
Although I’m inclined to believe the effort involved
will rack up more likes on social media than looks
by actual fish, I have to admit the origami wing
looks fantastic and it’s easy to see why this style has
exploded into the tying world over the last several
years. The distinguishing feature of this style is
that the feathers are bent, crimped and otherwise
manipulated into untold shapes and sizes to replicate
insect wings. Origami indeed. There is no doubt that
when tying these wings I was a little bit over my
head, but I figured it would be a disservice to the
talented tyers who produce these works of art to not
include this method in our wing style round-up.
The origami wing process begins with a rooster
feather with all of its fibres stripped from one side.
Next, some strategic bends and crimps are made to
help form the shape. Finally, a tiny funnel is employed
to line everything up and out pops an incredibly
realistic-looking wing.
Just wing it
Since exclusively tying deer/elk hair wings and
parachutes early in my fly fishing life, I’ve managed to
branch out and learn a bevy of different wing styles.
Although wings can be challenging, the routines we
fall into, wherein we stick to what we know, are worth
breaking out of. Parachute dries and elk hair caddis
certainly account for many of the fish that I put in my
net, but learning new techniques enables us to not
only be more versatile in the field, but we get a deeper
connection to our sport’s rich history—as the Todds,
Lutzs, Wulffs and Quackenbushes before us would
hopefully appreciate.

Jeff Wagner
When he’s not fishing or
casting you’ll find Jeff
hiking or biking the back
country with his family.
They also volunteer their
time to conservation
efforts with groups such
as Fly Fishers International.
Oh, and during business
hours Jeff does
business stuff.
52 The Soul of Fly Fishing
LONG LINES
Rocking a Roll Cast
Simple, stealthy and versatile
T
he roll cast is easy enough to learn and
works in a variety of situations. But it’s
not that easy. It’s certainly not easy to
master.
When most anglers start out, the roll
cast is pitched as a good way to get an introductory feel
for the fly rod and fly casting in general. While that is
true to some extent—for example in situations where
the roll cast may be the only cast available to you—on
the whole, building your basic overhead fly cast around
the principles of what gets a roll cast out to where the
fish are feeding can in fact be counterproductive. Let’s
unpack this idea and learn how to execute the roll cast
so that it informs, rather than takes away from, our basic
overhead cast fundamentals.
Anchor’s the way
By its nature, the roll cast has no energy in the backcast.
The line just hangs there, dead as a spent mayfly. This is
what makes the roll cast the roll cast, of course. Your line
isn’t airborne in the backcast; instead of an aerial loop,
the loop forms a D, or a V, on the water and contains
an anchor point. The anchor is critical. The anchor is
required to help input energy into the delivery of the
line. Without the anchor creating tension and putting
an energetic bend in the rod, the line will pull out from
its position and instead of being propelled forward, fail
in a limp mess.
Slow and steady
The basics of the roll cast are fairly simple. Begin with
line in front of you. A little slack in the line isn’t going to
matter. What does matter is your next move. You want
to bring your rod back slowly. I can’t emphasize enough
that the pace of this move be turtle-like. Students are
always surprised by just how slow this action is when I
demonstrate it. It’s hard to fight your instinct to want to
whip the rod back, but it’s critical you take it slow.
Degrees of accuracy
One of things that makes this cast so functional is the
fact that you don’t need to create a perfect loop. I prefer
to draw the rod back and off to my side at a less-than
45 degree angle. This keeps the active line on the water,
even in windy conditions. From this position, the rod is
drawn up to 5 o’clock on the horizontal plane (12 being
directly in front of you, 3 o’clock being to the rod side).
You are beginning to load the rod and should feel the
water tension building on the line.
Dees Loops
With the rod at 5 o’clock on the horizontal plane and 45
degrees on the vertical, the next action is to lift the rod
to vertical. But don’t lift it quite to vertical. Keeping it
10 degrees from straight up will ensure the loop, when
it unrolls, doesn’t collide with the rod tip. Plus this
action gives you a little extra slack for the all-important
D-Loop. Do you see the D? The rod is the straight edge
and the line is the curve. Once you are in this position
you can hold fast—almost indefinitely, in fact, unless
the line gets pulled out of its anchor position. Set up
properly, the D-Loop does all the work of the roll cast.
Shoulder check
With the D-Loop formed, now you can turn your
attention to your intended target. It is important to
 remember that, like the overhead cast, the direction
of the forward motion needs to be toward the target.
Turn your shoulders to face
the target and align your
arm and rod based off that
position. Now comes the
smooth acceleration and a
hard stop. The acceleration
and stop is similar to an
overhead cast, however, the
power needs to be have even
more wattage. Likewise,
the stop needs to be even
more pronounced. Without
the benefit of line already
moving in the direction of
the target, the stop needs
to finish fast. The position
of the stop will direct the
line. A high stop will cause
the loop to travel up and
out; a low stop will keep
the loop closer to the water.
But be wary: too-high
and the anchor will slip—
stop too low and the loop
will crash into the water
before unrolling.
Gear heads
The right equipment, as
usual, will make your fishing
life easier and there are most
certainly fly fishing products
out there which will help
your roll cast shoot faster
and further. In this case, the
line you use can make a big
difference—specifically, your
line’s taper and head length
can affect how the rod loads
and how the line transfers energy. In general, mass
is your friend when conducting roll casts; a line that
54 The Soul of Fly Fishing
distributes more mass to the front of the line, quickly,
will assist you in turning it over. But beware: a shorter
head length can cause you issues if you’re trying to make
longer (i.e. more than 30 feet) roll casts. This is because
the running line (as opposed to the head of the line)
comes into play and the energy can’t get transferred
effectively. While a shorter head is often perfect for
short roll casts in tight spaces, a longer head will be a
bit more general-purpose and allow you to put the roll
cast’s versatility on full display.
Similar strokes
A well-executed roll cast will look very much like a
good overhead cast. Similarly, some of the issues that
can confound a standard overhead cast can also wreak
havoc with your roll cast. Tailing loops can show up
with a lack of power and using too much wrist will mess
with your accuracy. These are unavoidable truths. Get
that good bend in the rod by slowly setting up your
D-Loop and keep that wrist firm (but not stiff).
Dead reckoning
Speaking of stiff, to instructors, the roll cast is known
as a “dead line” cast and because of that characteristic—
meaning it has no energy in the backcast—if the wind
is up, the roll cast can fall down. If the wind is blowing
into your rod hand, experiment with going cross-body;
i.e. form your D-Loop on the opposite side of your
torso. If the wind is coming from behind, enjoy the
added lift by making a slightly larger loop. And if the
wind is honking straight at you, your unenviable task
is to keep that anchor line from slipping out by keeping
your tip lower and your loop tighter.
Although it’s pitched as an introductory cast, the
roll cast is not completely intuitive. Once learned,
however, it can get you out of (or into) tight spots and
come in handy for situations where there is little to no
room to make a backcast. Draw it back slowly, set up
that D-Loop, feel the rod load and practice a smooth
acceleration to fast stop. The roll cast is the foundation
of all spey casts and while it might not be ideal to build
your overhead cast around it, there’s no denying its
versatility, efficiency, simplicity and stealth.
LEAVE THE CROWDS

outcastboats.com | 844.243.2473

Derek Olthuis
Derek loves researching
and exploring new places
to fish–the more remote
the better. He is obsessed
with sight fishing; to him
there is nothing more
enjoyable than stalking a
fish and watching it eat
a fly.
56 The Soul of Fly Fishing
WANDERING CURRENTS
The Octagon of the Flats
Picking a fight with a giant trevally
I
f fly fishing for picky trout in a clear mountain
stream is akin to a chess match, sight casting
to giant trevally in waist-deep water might be
like getting into the octagon, where a superman
punch or vicious take down can surprise you at
any moment.
Contact sport
I’ll never forget my first time getting into the ring, so to
speak. I was backdropped by the sparkling Seychelles—a
country made up of 90 or so islands northeast of
Madagascar in the Indian Ocean—and constantly kept on
my toes: figuratively, I had to be on my toes as I searched
for the ill-tempered GTs, but I was also literally on my toes.
I was being half-knocked off my feet every few steps as
rogue waves smacked into my torso. It was full contact and
I hadn’t even connected yet.
Gangsters of the flats
When fishing in this environment—sometimes in the wild
surf but often on the white sand and turtlegrass flats—
looking for anything fishy in a vast, seemingly-barren
oceanscape, often it can seem like nothing is happening.
Then, suddenly, a fight erupts. Chaos ensues. Smaller fish
are darting everywhere, your guide is indicating where to
cast, you’re scrambling, up is down, down is up and then…
nothing. It’s over. The place is a mess but the gangsters
have bolted.
Fast and furious
If you’re caught off guard, precious seconds can go wasted.
The bullies of the flats are looking to pick on the smaller
fish in the playground, but you typically don’t get much
warning that the bout is about to begin. Next thing you
know, the 40-pound fish that was wildly slashing through
two feet of water, trying to eat anything it could fit in
its mouth, is long gone—or at least safely out of casting
distance, as it disappears towards the depths. Things
happen fast on the flats and keeping a hyper-alert watch is
necessary if you want to make the most of your day.
Spirit animals
Your standard at-the-ready position is wading with
about 50 feet of line stripped off the reel, fly in hand and
ready to cast as soon as you see a dark shape slice by.
Fish spotted, it’s a mad dash to get the fly in the water
and in front of it. If you are successful, the stripping
starts fast and furious, and if you’re lucky enough to get
a pursuit and a GT locks on, be prepared for the fury.
Explosive eats might come a few feet into your retrieve,
or they might not come until your fly is at the rod tip,
with you having to shuffle backward in an attempt to
keep your pattern in play. Upon connecting, I remember
understanding immediately why my guide laughed
at my 80-pound leader, instead insisting on 130-test.
The GT absolutely pulverized my fly, spraying me with a
rooster-tail of water as it did. Luckily, I was fishing with a
12-wt rod, a 6/0 hook and that rope of mono knotted to
the fly so I could lean back and strip set with everything
I had. If there’s one thing you don’t want in that
moment of the clash, it’s feeling less than 100-per cent
confident there are no chinks in the armour. The goal,
I found out, would be to break the fish’s spirit before
it could break mine—namely, by cutting me off in the
nearby coral. Achieving that goal, as I found out many
times, was no guarantee.
flyfusionmag.com 57
 A blessing and a curse
The first goal, of course, is getting to the Indian Ocean.
And believe me, I’m sympathetic to anglers who consider
getting creative to fund this type of adventure. I say do
what you have to do; sell a car, cash in that RRSP, win
a bet… saltwater fly fishing has increased its footprint
in our industry, but in my opinion there are far too few
anglers who have given it a go. While many of us associate
the winter with restocking fly boxes and slowing things
down, I’ve been blessed (and admittedly, also cursed) so
that now, come ice-up, I look forward to the possibilities
of flats fishing. I no longer dread the winter shut down,
and I know my salt addiction is rising to the surface when
I start busting out the 6/0 hooks and tying eight-inch long
flies mid-summer.
As a trout angler at heart, for me, it’s hard to beat the
mountains, but when the chance to chase GTs came up,
I figured it was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Silly me. After
experiencing the thrill of the hunt against the backdrop of
one of the most incredible destinations on earth, there was
no way I was going to be able to stop dreaming about the
next time I could get in the octagon.

58 The Soul of Fly Fishing

 Distributor of the best
brands in fly fishing since
2012

gaspefly.com
@gaspeflyco

Brian Chan
Often referred to as “Dr.
Chironomid,” Brian has
always viewed stillwater fly
fishing through the lens of
a biologist. Lakes and their
inhabitants are always
changing–no two days
are ever the same–and
that’s what Brian finds
so fascinating about fly
fishing in still water.
60 The Soul of Fly Fishing
STILLWATER SECRETS
Springing Ahead
on Fall Fishing
C
all me eager, call me impatient, just don’t
call me late for fall fishing. By mid summer,
without fail, I am already thinking about
how the fall fishing will be. As August slips
into September, I am waiting and watching
for water temperatures to slowly start dropping. After four
decades of chasing stillwater trout I have found that the
best fall fishing does not occur until surface temperatures
dip below 50°F. Some years, the good fishing starts early,
while in others years, it takes more time for the water to
cool down. Dropping water temperatures re-establish the
shoal or shallow water zones of the lake as the prime trout
feeding areas.
Open window,
cooling temps
Oxygen levels are optimal and
the fish will spend long periods
of time foraging in very shallow
water as they bulk up for the
oncoming winter period and as
water temperatures drop down to
the low 40s, the fall fishing only
gets better. On average, this wonderful window lasts about
a month and a half but if arctic air masses start moving in,
the fantastic fall fishing might only last a couple of weeks.
Regardless of how big or small that window is, fly anglers
will do well to hone in on the small menu items that fish
are selecting at this special time of the season.
Appetizers versus entrées
As insect hatches are, by and large, over for the season,
the fall trout menu is a smorgasbord of sustenance that
will be overwintering in the lake. Water boatman and
backswimmers that engage in mating and egg-laying flights
are a special feature item, available for only a short time
during the early days of fall. This menu item won’t last
long! More typical late season delights are staples such as
zooplankton, scuds, leeches and, if present, forage fish.
One would think the trout would chase down the biggest
and most-accessible foods while on this late season open
water feeding spree, however, small food items make up
a surprisingly large percentage of the trout diet. Juvenile
or immature damselfly nymphs and mayfly nymphs show
up regularly in late fall throat
samples—so much so, that their
imitations have become very
important patterns in my late
season fly boxes.
Hit the salad bar
Immature damselfly and mayfly
nymphs live their lives hiding
amongst the foliage of the
submerged plant life found in
the littoral or shallow water zone of the lake. Lush stands
of Ceratophyllum (coontail), Potomageton (pondweed),
Myriophyllum (milfoil) and Chara (stonewort) all
provide excellent habitat for these nymphs. It is pretty
safe to say that lakes with abundant submergent and
emergent vegetation will have the best damsel and mayfly
populations. Trout and other fish search out these nymphs
as they hide amongst the branches and leaves of these
underwater gardens.
 Common camouflage
For some reason, trout can become quite focussed on these
very small nymphs—as evidenced by throat pump samples
teeming with still-wiggling nymphs of both insect orders.
Fall damsel nymphs are typically less than one inch in
length, while fall mayfly nymphs are generally less than
half an inch long. The colours of both these developing
nymphs is influenced by the predominant colour of their
respective habitat. Commonly-seen damsel nymph colours
include shades of very light olive to dark olive, whereas
mayflies are seen in this same colour range as well as light
to dark brown.
Weed whacking
Fishing these nymphs requires the fly to be presented in
and amongst the vegetation. That might mean isolated
stands of plants, or continuous, hedgerow-like growth that
are firmly anchored in water from five to 20 feet in depth.
Often, the most effective presentation method is with a
floating line and a nymphing (sinking) leader, or a floating
line and a traditional leader with a strike indicator. Keep in
UNI PRODUCTS J.G. Cote Inc.
1004 Principale, Ste-Melanie, QC. Canada J0K 3A0
Tel: 450-889-8054 Toll-Free: 1-877-889-8054
Fax: 450-889-5887 Email: info@uniproducts.com
Uni-Mylar
Tinsel White
and Black
Three Sizes
Look to UNI for the best in spooled fly-tying materials!
www.uniproducts.com
mind that as water temperatures continue
to drop, the fish will feed in gradually-
shallower water. Some of my favourite lakes
have extensive long stem bullrush patches
scattered throughout the shoal zones.
An extremely effective fishing tactic is to
suspend a very small balanced damselfly
or bead-headed mayfly nymph under
Balanced Baby
an indicator. I target the open pockets of Damsel Nymph
water between stands of the bullrush. A Hook: #14 Hanak H 400 BL Jig Classic (60°)
Thread: 8/0 olive green
light breeze will allow the nymphs to drift
Bead: 7/64th Slotted Gold Tungsten
naturally through that open water area. In Undertail: 2 strands olive green
calm conditions, imparting the occasional Crystal Flash
short strip or two can help catch the Tail: MFC Buggerbou Mini Barred Olive/
attention of a trout that is cruising through Brown Marabou
the stands of vegetation. Rib: Small gold wire
Body: MFC Buggerbou Mini Barred Olive/
Brown Marabou
Plant-based
In many lakes there are long lines of
coontail or pondweed which line the
edges of the drop-offs. This is an excellent
NEW FROM UNI
Uni-Flat
Braid 8, Flies Small
Holographic Gold

Matt King Flashback Hot Spot
Pheasant Tail Nymph
Hook: #16 Hanak H 400 BL Jig Classic (60°)
Thread: 8/0 Flourescent Orange
Bead: 3/32nd Copper Slotted Tungsten
Hot Spot Collar: 8/0 Flourescent
Orange thread
Tail: Ringneck Pheasant tail fibers
Rib: XS copper wire
Body: Ringneck Pheasant tail fibers
Thorax: peacock herl
Shellback: medium Mirage Opal tinsel over
pheasant tail fibers
Legs: Pheasant tail fibers
situation to fish a floating line and sinking
leader setup (aka naked nymphing). A
slight onshore breeze that allows the
nymph to drift perpendicular to the
leading edge of the weed beds will help
present the fly to feeding fish. This same
wind-drifting tactic can also be very
effective using a strike indicator. In calm
conditions, or when the wind is blowing
parallel to the edges of a weed line, try
anchoring just off the edge so that casts
can be made along the leading edge of the
visible plant life. Casts can then be made
straight downwind or upwind, using both
floating line techniques or intermediate
(Type 3) to full sinking (Type 7) lines.
Regardless of your line choice, try to present
your damsel or mayfly nymph within a foot
or so of the depth zone being fished. When
fishing the floating line and sinking leader
setup, make sure your leader is at least 25
per cent longer than the depth you want your fly at. The
extra leader length ensures your fly will stay in the zone as
it is slowly retrieved back to the boat.
Falling for autumn
In the fall, it’s been my experience that aggressively-feeding
trout don’t often pass up an immature damsel or mayfly
nymph drifting by, or suspended in, the water column. It’s
also been my experience that the size and shape of a pattern
is much more important than colour when it comes to the
fall fishing period. More critical still, is making sure you
can be there to experience this special season. If I seem
anxious for the summer heat to curtail, it’s only because I
know the fall fishing can be extremely hot.
Fall Damselfly and Mayfly Patterns
Two of my favourite fall patterns include a balanced
baby damsel nymph and Matt King’s Flashback Hot Spot
Pheasant Tail Nymph. Both are tied small and are great
representations of juvenile or immature life stages of
these insects.

Jim McLennan
Jim McLennan has been fly
fishing and writing about it
since sometime in the last
century. He continues to
indulge his passions for fly
fishing, bird hunting, writing,
and music, but unfortunately
this leaves very little time
for the thankless task
of keeping Derek under
control during filming
of Fly Fusion TV.
64 The Soul of Fly Fishing
WATER MARKS
More Than Just
a Pretty Face
F
ly fishers, including this one, love to gush
about the beautiful places they fish. These
decrees are surely genuine, but some of
these lakes and streams, though alluring, are
somewhat less than user-friendly.
There’s a river in British Columbia that’s a stunner.
Looking down on it from a remote logging road, I’m
struck by air-clear water dancing over a riverbed of sparkly
brown, yellow, and gold rocks. The stream flows through a
dense evergreen forest with a floor covered in deadfall. It’s
in a confined valley—at some points a canyon—and that
keeps the water a couple of feet deep right at the bank. The
thick bush means you have to move up or downstream in
the water rather than on the bank, but the swift current
and big rocks make wading difficult, even treacherous. You
wish you could walk a nice path, but there isn’t one. I’ve
fished this water and loved it, but probably won’t again.
It is understandably favoured mainly by anglers who are
young, athletic or both.
There’s a small, dainty spring creek in west-central
Alberta that purrs gently through a wide valley. When you
see this one for the first time you think “What a gorgeous
piece of water!” And it is exactly that, but experience has
taught me that if you plan to enter a relationship with
it you’d better be, to borrow the words of Joni Mitchell,
“prepared to bleed.”
I took Lynda to this creek at the start of her fly-fishing
life but as I learned that day, and since, it’s a mistake to take
any beginner there. Let me explain. The stream is clear and
only about 15 or 20 feet wide as it serpentines through
marshy farm country. Because it’s in the bottom of a wide,
shallow valley, it moves slowly and gently, as most spring
creeks do. While some famous spring creeks flow through
open meadows, this one flows through brushy bottom land.
Its banks are lined with tall grass and willows, right to the
water’s edge. It’s waist-deep most of the places I like to fish
it, and while the strength of the current isn’t a problem,
the composition of the bottom is. It’s mostly
soft and mucky, with only a few areas of
clean gravel. Occasionally you get your feet
stuck in the mud, which is what happened
to Lynda early the first day she fished there.
She called and I went over to help extract
her, saying something encouraging like,
“Don’t worry dear, that happens a lot on
this little creek.” I took her to a nicer spot
where she could cast straight upstream to
a juicy, undercut bank. However, straight
downstream was a sharp bend and on her
first cast she hung her fly in a willow. After
I retrieved it from the bush, then repeated
the drill a couple more times, she looked at
me with a smile that seemed to say “When
do we get to the fun part?” I think this is
when and where I learned that you shouldn’t
take beginner anglers to a place you like if
it’s not also suitable for them. Lynda stayed
with it, of course, but quite likely in spite of,
not because of my efforts that day.
On this stream you must nearly always
stand in the water well downstream of your
target and cast nearly straight upstream.
Because the creek is so narrow and there’s
so much tall vegetation on the banks,
backcasts are impossible otherwise. And forget about
casting downstream; you’d be standing in the fish’s view
and putting your fly into water muddied by your wading.
The fish in this stream are brown trout that see fly
fishers regularly. There aren’t many dummies among
them. The slow current, clear water, bush and willows,
mosquitos, and the brown trout themselves—especially on
bright, cloudless days— add up to Advantage Fish.
One day when I was searching for green drake
mayflies, which are a good hatch on this stream, I pulled in
at a popular access point and, as expected, saw a couple of
vehicles already parked. No point in fishing behind those
guys, I thought, so I drove to another spot upstream a mile
or so, taking a rough, two-track trail through the bush that
few people knew about. I slogged to the creek through
the willows, swamp and mosquitos. Almost immediately I
spotted green drakes sailing by. My smugness was palpable,
even to myself, and I congratulated myself on being so
clever. I waded slowly up the stream watching for rises.
There were none, though the hatch continued nicely. After
a half hour or so I thought, “The fish must be full, I’ll just
cast to the good spots without seeing rises.” It didn’t work.
I carried on, fishless, for a couple more hours and
then heard them: voices of anglers, a few pools ahead,
brought closer to me by one of the tight bends in the
stream. Apparently they had started early and fished all the
way up from the access point back at the road. I walked
up to them and asked how their day had been. “Fantastic!”
one of them said. “These green drakes have really got ‘em
going. How’ve you been doing?”
“Great!” I lied, hoping they wouldn’t notice
the blood.
© Photo Walter Foster @finefinart

Matt Kryger
After being “forced” into fly
fishing one hot evening in July,
Matt Kryger soon discovered
a passion for the sport’s
entomology. He loved to fish,
but as a former tradesman,
he was drawn to the tying
bench; he spent countless
hours spinning thread at candle
light in an effort to perfect
the craft. The hard work must
have paid off: it landed him
a commercially tying job and
repping product for Casting
Loops Fly & Tackle, which led to
more opportunities with Ahrex
Hooks and RaidZap. “I feel like
I won the lottery being a trout
bum,” he says. To Matt, summer
means spending more time
with his wife Taya and their
growing children.
66 The Soul of Fly Fishing
END OF THE LINE
Naked Lunch
Matt Kryger
The Naked Line’s J.LO Chironomid
Hook: Size 12 Ahrex FW530
Bead: 7/64 Brown Magic tungsten
Thread:8/0 Rusty brown Textreme standard
Body: 1.0mm Anti-static Bag (ASB)
Ribbing : Togens bronze chirony skin
Ribbing: UTC SM black wire
Gills: White Uni-stretch
UV Resin: Raidzap Superthin
Balanced Canadian Brown Leech
Hook: Size 12 Ahrex PR374 90 degree Jig Hook
Bead: 1/8 purple tungsten
Thread: 8/0 Chartreuse Textreme standard
Dubbing: Canadian brown simi seal
Tail: Select Black Maribou
Naked Line’s B.B.W Bloodworm
Hook: Size 10 Ahrex FW524
Thread: 8/0 White Textreme Standard
Body: UTC Lazer silver holo tinsel
Body: Flybox Red buzzer Wrap
Ribbing: UTC X-sm red wire
Head: apply black marker to thread
UV Resin: Raidzap superthin
The Naked line’s Jolly
Rancher Booby
Hook: Size 8 Ahrex FW524
Thread: 8/0 Lemon Textreme Standard
Foam Eyes: Semperfli 5mm yellow
Jelly Fritz: FNF shocking pink
Jelly Fritz: FNF Atomic yellow
Tail: Supreme string Cat whisker
Visit flyfusionmag.c
Fly Tying recipe and
Pregnant Crystal Scud
Hook: Size 10 Ahrex FW524
Thread: 8/0 White Textreme standard
Body: Stretch Magic stretch tubing
Tail/Antenna: Natural barred Mallard flank
Body: Green marker, orange marker, brown marker
Legs: Silver Holo Simi Seal dubbing
UV Resin: Raidzap Thick
Wes Penny’s Resin Boatman
Hook: Size 10 Ahrex FW524
Bead: 7/64 Canadian Llama Metallic red brass
Thread: 8/0 Textreme Standard
Body: White Uni-Stretch
Body: UTC Mirage Opal tinsel
Body: Yellow marker applied to Uni-Stretch, green
marker dabbed sparingly down body, brown
marker mixed with raidzap thin
Legs: Orange Silicone Legs
UV Resin: Raidzap Thick, Raidzap FL. Orange
Naked Line’s Goldeneye
Chironomid
Hook: Size 14 Ahrex FW530
Bead: 3/32 Brown magic tungsten
Thread: Rust Textreme Midge thread
Thread: 8/0 06brown Textreme standard
Thread: 8/0 05DK brown Textreme standard
Ribbing: Sybai ultrafine flat wire Anthracit
Ribbing: UTC SM silver wire
UV Resin: Raidzap Superthin
om for weekly
video content
 CRUSH
VARIABLES.
You don’t pick tournament
days; tournament days
pick you. With leaderboard
glory on the line, clear
a path to victory with
performance-boosting
tools forged for apex
saltwater anglers.

gloomis.com