Don’t mean to complain about the weather . . . but . . .
Again this week we’ve been under mostly gray skies with a few inches of snow flurries thrown in.
One of the consequences of a wetter than normal winter is rivers are at or above capacity. Streams we frequent are running at April levels.
Un-fishable water is usually a product of run-off and right when ODFW opens the Upper Deschutes River as an alternative.
These dreary days mean we’ll fill the blog with more domestic tasks.
Oh there was activity, just mostly indoors and with fewer photos captured.
Not fishing doesn’t mean not thinking about fishing. Limited stream access just means more sitting at the desk spin’in feathers.
I even posted some of the patterns on Instagram. Winter is the season to refill boxes with patterns depleted last summer.
Books occupy another segment of daily activities. What an Inter-library loan can’t find, Hoopla and Kindle can.
There is always an eclectic mix of titles stacked on the living room table. This week that pile contained an inordinate number of cookbooks.
The other activity associated with dreary weather is cooking and we’ve done quite a lot of that. Soup Sunday returned this year and we’ve sampled and canned a couple of good recipes. JQ tweaked her chocolate pound cake recipe to perfection and fourth time seems to be the charm on finding a truly good chocolate chip cookie.
We didn’t get out much but that will change with the season. For now we’ll start a new book and wait for the real thaw.
I’ve fished, mostly fly fishing, for more than sixty years. For fifty of those years any pattern tossed onto a lake or stream has been made in-house.
This week I was reorganizing the space used to tie flies and pulled out a box of hooks that has been on hand from the start.
It may have been a week of cold weather battering old bones or this antique hook box, but either way this got me ruminating on my tying bench.
In this house winter doesn’t bring fishing to a complete halt, but it does limit time spent on the water. What replaces the actual fishing is fly tying. In all these years of stocking a bench, more gets added than is ever tossed.
A tying space is the equivalent to a garage work bench with its collection of old cans holding odd lots of hardware that might someday be useful.
The foundation to my tying bench is a roll top desk recovered from the Pastime Bar in Whitefish.
Though it has served in many capacities, the current iteration evolved from a couple of decades of reorganizations.
Every drawer and file slot holds fly tying materials.
On the slab of oak that tops the desk is a tying box my father built.
Above that are shelves with even more wooden boxes. All overflow with the bits and bobs necessary to craft trout lures.
The item that prompted this post was a tiny piece of wire sitting in a white cardboard box identified by Mustad-Viking Hooks in red ink and the number 94840 stamped in a different font.
A Sparkle Pupa pattern in Gary LaFontaine’s book “Caddisflies” calls specifically for this style of hook. However, you can’t find this component in most fly shops.
You see, Mustad isn’t the market leader they were when their signature cardboard box lined shelves in every shop.
In the years since I purchased these boxes, not only has the package changed, but the part number number has disappeared.
It didn’t matter to me nor would it to any tyer pulling a pattern from this book as fly tyers are notorious for making substitutions. Just like your father always had a bolt that would work.
Fly patterns are intended to imitate a fish’s food sources which hasn’t changed.
However, the materials and methods are in constant motion, bringing new twists to ancient patterns. Tying a caddis pupa imitation to fish ahead of a hatch draws on hundreds of different patterns from years of knowledge.
My methods have evolved, yet still get pulled back to times when these old Mustad hooks were state of the art.
As winter sets in, I scribble out a list aimed to replenish boxes depleted over a summer of fishing.
This year a variety of streamers will be tacked on because Small Mouth Bass got added to the hunted species list.
I’ll spend the next month or so building imitations of aquatic invertebrates to match the variety of hatches we’ll encounter. Some will end up catching fish, others will catch a rock or branch and become part of next year’s winter list.
Every year the process gets reset like the cycles I’m attempting to replicate.
This week we drove through a wildfire, or rather the aftermath of one of the many forest fires that burned Oregon last summer. 2020 was the most destructive fire season on record in the state.
On this day we followed Highway 126 along the Mckenzie River and drove through the middle of the Holiday Farm Fire.
This blaze started on the sixth of September and when it was finally contained. 65 days later, it had burned 175 thousand acres, destroyed 760 structures and killed one person.
The magnitude of this, or any wildfire, is not completely captured by news accounts. Even video reports don’t give you a prospective on how much 175,000 acres burned is really, nor how arbitrary the destruction.
There were plots of ground leveled to bare foundation sitting next to houses untouched by fire. This went on for miles as we drove past the ongoing clean up efforts.
Eight months later they are still clearing debris and felling damaged trees as they attempt a return to regular life. However, there are also a lot of people getting out and lots of properties are ‘on the market’.
We were on this road heading west to Eugene to locate flytying supplies. I’ll admit that tying the flies used in fishing may not be a money saving prospect. Hobbies are rarely a path to frugal endeavors. This house is engaged in a number of hobbies that require regular re-supply and flyfishing is just one of them.
The pandemic has moved the acquisition of materials to online sources but there are also some issues with that. The major issue for a flytyer is some of the bits attached to hooks need a color match.
While there is no shortage of online sources for these materials this isn’t the best method for choosing the “proper” item. I find it necessary, particularly with feathers, to make these choices in person.
The pandemic also exacerbated the supply chain. It’s kind of important to support local fly shops but this supply chain issue has greatly reduced materials at our local shops. In the case of hackle feathers the choice is none. So the answer to this dilemma is a road trip to one of Oregon’s great supply centers The Caddis Fly Shop in Eugene. This place had a wall of hackle choices and of course a number of other essential items. then back on the road and home but this time via Willamette pass Highway 58.
Winter’s cold arrived this week. Coupled with the Governor’s “stay at home” request, our activities cooled as well.
We don’t stop fishing in the winter, just shift tactics. Some streams open all year, and of course fish don’t hibernate.
One thing that does pick up is activity at the tying bench.
Flyfishing, like most hobbies, offers lots of distractions to occupy time and resources, Some more essential than others. Fly tying is one of these side ventures.
Winter, or off season, at the bench serves two functions. First it replenishes boxes depleted by summer’s excursions . There are also some very different types of flies used in the cold months.
The art of dry dropper, wet fly, or Euro nymphing techniques is, for us, just in the formative stage, as are any patterns used in those tactics. It’s helpful to be able to sit down at the bench, work out different artificial based on what we see on the river.
There is also a cathartic and meditative side of attaching bits of feather, fur and tinsel to bends of wire.
Like standing in the middle of a stream … fly tying has its own sort of Zen.
First summerlike day and we headed to the Crooked River. It started as a Euro Nymphing practice session. The river was kind of high and turbid so we didn’t really expect much action. But the cooler was full, the kindles loaded up … so we were ready for anything.
As I was rigging up the nymph leaders, I noticed that JQ was taking a great deal of interest in a juniper near the stream’s edge. There was a Black Caddis Hatch and the tree’s branches were alive with the tent winged bugs.
Didn’t see much surface feeding, so I continued with the wet fly rig. This was moderately successful. But what got my attention was all the rises just downstream.
I headed back to the car and got out a dry fly rig. The rest of the afternoon was spent catching six to ten inch Red Band Trout.