It's about being expert

I’ve noticed that fly fishing has a very devout following of men and women.   Some (including myself) seem to pursue the sport with a nearly religious zeal.   What is it about fly fishing that makes this amount of an impression on some people?  I feel I know something about it, in that I have come up through it's ranks since childhood, and know some of it's "ins and outs" and can answer that question, at least for myself.

The rewards of fly fishing, must exceed the difficulty of learning how to do it.   This is elementary but exceedingly important.   The fly fishing devout must also necessarily, be very good at the application of the skills of fly fishing, or they would become discouraged and disillusioned and give it up, due to no result.   That means they have a level of expertise that is good enough to produce the results that brings about pleasure and satisfaction to a degree that balances the difficulty of it all, because fly fishing is not an easy sport to master, and takes as much time and money as you can devote to it.    Fly fishing requires as well, dedication and perseverance, and a huge basic understanding of Nature and the physical universe its self.     In fact, the process of learning the basics of fly fishing is daunting to many, and is a formidable barrier to ever achieving the level of expertise necessary to derive lasting pleasure from it.   But, those who do develop a high degree of skill, are nearly always "hooked" for life.    

I consider myself to be an expert fly fisherman.    I have spent a good part of my 50+ years pursuing the sport on many levels.    When I started fishing as a boy in Colorado I had the most success fishing the spring run-off, with worms.   This was before I could handle a rod well enough to cast a fly with any hope of having it land in the exact place that small stream pocket water fishing requires.   The first rod I remember using was a collapsible metal rod (yes, metal) that I used to drift worms through likely looking holes on the South St. Vrain in Colorado.   I eyed my Granddad’s and Dad’s bamboo rods purchased from Longs Drug store in Boulder, with great envy.     I loved to just pick them up and hold them in my hand and marvel at how light they were.  The cork handles were stained with years of trout slime and sweat.  Dad and Granddad each used an automatic real with a trigger under the right little finger to retrieve the line.  It was an advantage in the brushy waters where casting was many times a flip or a roll.  I envied the way my Dad could get his fly in the right place so the trout would chase it.  He’d pull them out with such effortless grace and ease.   I felt very clumsy compared to him, for many years.   

I carried a woven cane creel that was as big as my Dad's on all fishing outings.   Always.   We kept nearly all the trout caught in those days.   We had no concept, that there might be a shortage of fish.   Healthy waters with a natural fish population and a generous hatchery program made my childhood fishing seem like fish in the streams was a given.   It was only a decision of "which stream did we feel like trying this trip"?   Keeping trout for Sunday cookouts was the norm and the creel filled up because, "was it too small to fry" was the only reason we released a fish.   But if was hooked too deep, which was a common occurrence fishing with worms, the small ones were also kept.

I clearly remember the few times I caught the largest fish with worms, while my dad was trying to get the trout to hit a fly.   My Mom and I skunked them with worms, on a rare occasion!   Those are some of the brightest pleasure moments in my early life.   As my Granddad would say, I was "busting at the seams" with pride.   But there always came a day in early to mid summer when my Dad would be catching fish with flies, and my worm would be totally ignored.    I then would reverently ask if I could have a fly to tie on my leader.    Flies were scarce and valuable, in that we didn’t know how to tie them our selves, and they were "expensive".   We bought snelled flies, which means they had a short looped monofilament leader (snell) tied to the fly in the factory.   My Dad fished the flies wet.   That meant letting the "Adams" or "Mosquito" become water logged, and fished like an un-weighted nymph.   I am amazed at how good my father was at catching fish with that technique.   (He still is, by the way, even though he is old enough he doesn’t navigate the steep trails of rivers too well any more.)    Now, looking back, I understand the dry flies fished wet like a nymph were imitating not only nymphal stages, but emergers as well.   He was right on, without the technical knowledge of why.   He fished that way because it worked.   He earned his expertise over the years by practicing what worked, trial and error, until he could catch fish, more often than not.

He also had a knack with the "dead drift float" that I have never quite duplicated.   He could get the fly to act like a real food item, and do it with, what we now consider, terribly unsuitable, stiff leader material, and with the snelled flies adding another unnecessary weight and bulk to the leader!   These days, I would throw that snelled fly and leader away without hesitation!   Yet in spite of the heavy equipment, he could get the fly to act naturally, and many times, the fish would leave their lie, and chase the fly!    How do I know, because I stood beside him and watched them do it... many times.   I loved standing by his side watching the fly work its way through a hole, anticipating the strike at any second.   Many a time I would jump as the fish hit the fly and Dad set the hook.   He taught me to be  keenly alert, so as to never miss the slightest glimpse of the fish chasing the fly, or the take.    Being in present time was not just nice, it was essential.     Reaction time was trained into me from day one.   I remember once in later years, trying to teach my wife to set the hook on a trout that had taken her fly... I couldn’t believe she didn’t know you were supposed to jerk when the fish took the fly!    It was such a basic part of my life I never even thought about it.   Fishing with my Dad, many things just rubbed off.    He could see into the water with an uncanny sense.   He also "knew" there was a fish in that hole.   But more about that later.     His technique was a combination of "dead drift" in part of the hole or run, and a wet fly swing near the end, or in the lower part of the hole.    He would catch fish in either area.   He could fish the river behind me, and many times, catch fish in the holes and runs I had just given up as barren, taking of course, great pleasure in the feat, as he should.   He had earned my admiration.   I owe him greatly, for it was with him on the water I first learned many things about the ways of the seasons, the water, the fish, presentation, patience, perception, appreciation for wild and beautiful places, persistence on a given course, honesty and honor.   I learned from an expert.

An important factor in a successful fisherman's expertise is his/her apparent ability to intend the fish to bite.    As a youngster I used to strain at thinking the fish onto my worm.    My father used to tease me about not holding my mouth right...  I knew if I just intended hard enough the fish would magically be on the end of my line.    Sometimes it seemed to work and sometimes it didn’t.     The innate inner certainty that I could decide a fish into biting is not all that far a field.    I know that if I go out on a days outing with the decision that I am just going out to play,  chances of catching fish are less than if I decide I am going out to catch fish.   It is a basic postulate.    If you decide it is all hopeless...more often than not it is.

But what a wild "can of worms" I have just opened with this subject!   With the mention of rituals and habits that some fishermen get into to try to influence their inability to make a decisions stick is amazing and nearly embarrassing.      We are now talking about those weird things some are sure bring them better "luck".   This is a fascinating subject.    All fishermen are assumed by many, to be relying on luck.   Mostly by the non-fishermen.   It is as pervasive as fishing its self.   "Good luck"   "Have and luck?"   "I rubbed the rabbits foot." etc.    Lucky shirts, hats, flies, and all such thinking are attempts at trying handle the missing technique or expertise that is needed to solve the problem of that stream ( or lake) on that day.      Resorting to luck is an indication of not quite knowing all the technology you need to know.    Not knowing everything you need to know, necessarily puts one in a Mystery.   It is very simple.    Luck is a companion of mystery.    If you don’t really understand why the fish strike, then it is attributed to luck.    If you don’t fully understand where the fish are holding, then it is attributable to luck if you catch one.    It is random, not predicted.    You are sure you didn’t do it on purpose...so it must have been luck.    I find greater pleasure in not participating in the realm of mystery and luck but in the realm of knowledge and cause.     Relying on luck is a very frustrating way to fish.   The opposite of luck would be operating from knowing and in control.   It is called causing.   To cause something, you made it happen on purpose.    Fly fishing has many variables.  Causing on the majority of those variables, will make for a good day.     Operating from an effect point on the majority of them will make for a frustrating day.    I've had many days of both kinds, and know this phenomena well.     I always chuckle to myself when some asks, "any luck?"    Many times the completely honest answer is "no."

But right next to that phenomenon is the person who has good luck because they are able to make the day happen with grace and ease, and they apply what they know in an effective way, and inevitably, catch fish.     It is almost magic...but not quite.    The good luck came from the person being happy and alive and able to effect things in the environment in present time and face clearly what is happening, and match the environment challenge with skill and knowledge.   It is not mysterious.

Causing a trout to hit a fly starts at the tying vice in the middle of the winter.   When the fisherman is tying the fly, he is many times tying for a specific stream, on a specific type of day, and making postulates, or decisions about how the fishing will be on those days.    That the fish will find this fly truly irresistible, is an inherent part of sitting at the vise.     In fact, why would one sit at the vice and tie a fly he didn’t think was going to work?    That basic decision, that this fly will work, is built into each fly made.     It is built into all other pieces of equipment too, to some degree.     It is one of the basic decisions that makes for a good day on the water.     Even if you don’t tie your own flies, you still decide that "this will be a good one" to tie on when mid stream.    You still decide what is the right fly for the conditions on that stream or lake that day.     But that decision can be good or not so good depending on your expertise and experience.    Heh, you say, many factory tied flies are now tied by people in remote parts of the world who have never even seen a trout or looked at the water they are tying a fly to entice fish in, so how could they be building into the fly the decision it will work?!    I say, but you make up for that by deciding for your self, in present time on the stream, or when purchasing at the fly shop, this fly will work.    This is so basic, I’m afraid some of you may be missing it.    The question is why would you fish with a fly you didn’t think would catch fish?    The answer is some where along the line if the fly is going to catch fish it has to have those basic decisions made about it.    It is completely effortless and easy.     But it is also good to know about it too.   

I have now done my part, and it is up to you to not hit the water with a negative attitude.    If fact, why would you do anything at all with a negative attitude?   Try it with life's other "games" too.    Make those totally obvious decisions awarely, and life may go better.

Larry Bruning

Fishing a "Mass Hatch"

(Opinion article)

    A few times, when making 30 foot casts or so, I've had to really concentrate, to tell which was my fly and which were the naturals on a drift.  Which brings up an interesting point.   A fully expert fly tier can imitate the naturals to such a degree, that in a "mass hatch" situation, the imitation looses out, because the fish don't see any difference between the tied fly and the naturals!  Not to mention, the fisherman can't tell which is his fly, and which is the real thing!  What an ironic problem; being too good at imitating the natural!  Some fly tiers tie in a colored post, or spot of color, on their flies for this reason, and to make the fly show up better in low light conditions.

    The first problem can be overcome, if you can see the exact fish you are casting to.  The solution is to time his feeding rhythm with your cast, and precisely control your drift, to keep it in his exact feeding lane, and ... not giving up if he doesn't respond  instantly, and you can take him...  If you don't scare him with splashy casting or too much false casting.   Both of which are ripe subjects.  (see paragraphs below)    But generally, when fishing a run with the usual dead drift dry fly float,  if your fly looses itself in the naturals, its time for a slightly larger fly.  The larger fly always seems to solve the problem.  The feeding fish see your fly first, and move on it, instead of one of the naturals.  I remember reading about that technique in a magazine article years ago.  I'm sorry I can't give credit to the original author.  But, I'm not sure there is anything in the art of fly fishing that is really 100 percent original.   We are part of a very old sport after all, and some things that are seen as innovations, may only be variations, on an old theme.  Some of the materials we have available to us now, however, are new.

    One theory I've heard as to why the larger fly works, is it represents a larger return of food for the energy spent pursuing it.  To a reasoning human it is obviously better survival for the fish to take the largest fly available.  However, you all know that logic is not always the way a trout sees it!  Many times the smaller fly, in a multiple hatch situation, takes the most fish.   Maybe they like the taste!  Maybe they get more nutrients of a needed variety from that  smaller species... Who knows.   Also, the logic of going for the largest morsel available, breaks down rather easily when you leave the realm of what is naturally on the water.  A two inch, perfectly formed Mayfly is not going to take fish, because you have exceeded the fishes reality.  The largest they have ever seen, after all, is half an inch.  You'd scare them with such a monster!  You understand.  Just file this bit of information away, about going to a larger fly, and someday it will be the solution for you in a mass hatch situation. 

False casting

    You don't need to do much false casting if you are serious about catching fish.   But, to be fair, some fishermen's goals may not be "to catch fish."  It might be that casting is the pleasurable activity they are out one the water to do!  But if the goal is to actually catch fish, then most beginners false cast far too much.   In fact, you can tell a beginner by how many times he practices his cast, or admires his loop, (or what ever it is they are doing), before they actually put the fly on the water.  An expert fisherman, puts his fly exactly where it should be, as close to instantly as possible.  And for an expert that is very fast.  Therefore, an experts fly is on the water, in a perfect float, many times longer, per given unit of time, than a beginners.   That alone might be why some people catch more fish than others.  Their fly is one the water where a fish can get at it!  False castings only legitimate purpose is to dry the fly.  All the rest of the reasons to false cast are arbitrary.  (just made up).  

    When my fly isn't floating well, I false cast tight little fast casts, well over to the side somewhere, to get the water out.  Better yet, I bring the fly in and dry it, by pressing it in the crease of my shirt elbow, and puff if up again by blowing on it.   I apply more floatant if needed, and get it back on a perfect drag free drift.    Also, the first false cast will sometimes release part of the water load of the wet fly, right over the fish your casting to!   Little droplets of water raining down right where you don't want them!   If you need to measure the distance to the holding lie, do it gradiently by fishing the lower end of the run and gradually increase you casts to the exact spot where you know the major fish is holding.  It is my experience the biggest most aggressive fish has the best lie.  The cast to that fish is the most important of the whole run.  Don't blow it with unnecessary false casting.

Low clear water conditions

    The other way I've scared my fair share of fish is walking too upright, too close, in the fishes angle of vision, during low clear water conditions.  It is essential you understand that a fish holds in the current, with head upstream.  It is also essential, you learn to read the water and know where the fish are most likely to be holding.  Only then can you intelligently cast to where the fish is lying.  How do you learn where the fish hold?  Trial and error.  Pay attention when your on the water, and where the fish hit your fly most often.  Read.  Watch videos paying attention to where the fish must have been holding.  Fish with experts if you get the chance and watch.  Hire a guide, and ask questions.  All will work.  Some are faster, others are cheaper.

    Remember, trout can see very well to the sides. After all, their life depends on be able to avoid predators!   So they panic easily.  It takes a lot of exposure to condition a trout to walking humans.  (Rocky Ford Creek is one of the few places where you can walk right up to within 5 feet of a cruising fish and he won't even change his course! Of course he won't eat your fly either!)  A trout's blind spot is directly behind, but that is a terrible place to cast from, because you will "line him" (scare him with the line as it lands on the water), unless you are very good at "reach casting." (throwing a bow or belly in the line).    So, stay back a ways from the good water, and fish slightly to one side of the main holding water.  Work your way up the run by fishing the less than perfect water as you move into position to fish the most likely holding water.  This way you avoid "spooked fish spooking the entire run!"  Cast only as much line as you can get a delicate presentation with your fly.  If it's landing hard and unnaturally, shorten up, and crawl on your knees if needed to, stay out of the fishes view.

    I'm sure many beginning fly fishermen/women have scared the fish in a run before they ever cast a fly into it, and then cast away time after time, having no idea they are now standing there wasting time.  All they did wrong was walk up to the middle of the run, and start fishing. (Also announcing to every trout within 50 feet to cool it.)  

     Plan how you are going to fish a section of water as soon as you can see it.  Then start on the program of fishing each lie (holding spot) in turn, so as to maximize your chances of catching, not just one fish, but many.  Part of the puzzle of how to fish a run, or series of pockets, without spooking the fish, is how to approach.  Go slowly up stream, (in low clear trout water) and pay attention, don't wave your arms, and watch for spooked fish moving away from you.  If  you are scaring fish, cast much further away from yourself.  Increase your casts from 25 feet to 35 feet, for example.   Now, it is much more difficult to make perfectly located casts, with the increased distance, and it is still very important the fly land lightly, no matter how long the cast.  You start to see the challenges of any given day on a clear trout stream.  You will see your mistakes as you make them, and you can correct yourself.  It is a growth that only happens with experience.  That is how you become expert.  Hours on the water, fishing.  No other way. 

Larry Bruning 1998

Fly Fishing History and Esthetics    

(Opinion article)

    I am not one to read every old book I see, but there is a feel with this sport that carries back along the centuries that is perceivable.  It is one of esthetics of materials and action, combined into a function that results in a very rewarding game of catching fish, that "couldn't be caught otherwise."  (Possibly they could be caught with bait or metal, but it is part of the mystique, that the trout would only move to an exact imitation of a natural insect, and that is part of the total experience).  It is a belief more than a fact.  But it is a very important basic postulate in the game called fly fishing.

    What do I mean, esthetics of material?  What I mean is how beautiful capes of hackles are, even before you tied a fly from them.  The gorgeous feathers of water fowl, that are commonly used in fly tying, are spectacular in their own right.  The cork handle of your fly rod carries some message of being made by hand, with love and craftsmanship, and it is made of real materials... bark from a tree.   The incredible variety of dubbing, in every conceivable shade of color, makes my fly tying bench hum with various subtle contrasts.  The sheen of the finish on the fly rod itself...  My point is, just looking at fly fishing gear, is esthetic.  Even my old creel, from when I was a teenager in Colorado, had a definite esthetic quality to it.  And part of it was the smell of the week old fish slime from last trip.  That smell was a blood quickening elixir of my youth.  It is permanently part of my existence.  I loved the esthetics of fly fishing even before I was able to tell you why it was beautiful.  My mother didn't find the esthetics of a creel appealing!    So,  we're off into the realm of observing that something is beautiful, simply because you decide it is beautiful.   Those decisions may not be "done" very awarely,  but they are "done" never the less.  They can be very powerful.  Many fly fishermen/women perceive these esthetics.

    Esthetics of action?  It is the beauty of a well cast fly line.  A "tight loop" to some, is more important than the catching of fish.  Witness the movie "A River Runs Through It."   It was more of a casting demonstration, than a fishing experience.  Some found it very esthetic.   I was deeply disappointed.  I was hoping for a visualization of my sense of esthetics of fly fishing.  The movie was not even close.  I suppose the esthetics I'm speaking about don't picture well in a main stream movie.  Not enough conflict and violence.  I sure could be interested in a "documentary film" about fly fishing, that covers the subtleties of the sport in an esthetic way.  It could be explored.  Might not be easy, but what fun!

    There is more regarding esthetics of action.  Think about the total experience of being on the water... There are actions all over the place!  The water moving. Casting. The incredible action we all are waiting for, of the fishing rolling up from the depths and onto the fly in one smooth, but very fast move!  The wind on your face and the swaying of the trees;   insects in the air;  water pushing against your legs;  an eagle landing on a snag.  You get it don't you.  It is all beautiful, if you are able to experience it in present time, and if you have decided somewhere in your past that the physical universe is esthetic, especially the wilds.  I sure have.  If you take away the esthetics of fly fishing...I'm not interested.

    I don't fish, to catch fish, as the only product.  The sub-products are just as rewarding, and just as big a part of the sport.  That train of thought taken to its conclusion is interesting too!  In 50 years will fly fishing be sans catching entirely?  Some are predicting the use of "hookless" flies.  It would allow you to experience the rise, and the take, without the actual setting of the hook, and landing the trout.  Possible I guess.   I can envision it.  But, I'm not real excited about it.  Lets postpone it as long as possible by wisely managing what we have now, that we can be responsible for. 

    Do your part by, practicing catch and release, no garbage in the rivers, camp clean, handle the run off from your land, leave a few trees in our forests to keep some water up there, leave some buffer trees and brush next to any stream you have on your property, and anything else that can enhance our waters.  We are at that stage.  If we want to fish in the future, we have to be stewards of the water and environment now. 

    In Europe, I understand, there is a system of conservation of a "River Keeper," who is responsible for the well being of his river.  Some system like that, adopted in the US might be a step.  Something to think about.  We'd have to give him/her some teeth to enforce the ethic needed.  Could you handle getting a ticket from a river keeper for being on the water too long?  Or would you rather there was no fishing allowed at all, and let nature catch up again?  There are going to be some tough questions in our life times.

Larry Bruning 1998