While I was stationed in Colorado Springs I taught my self to fly fish. I learned to cast, while not pretty it got line and my fly out and I caught fish. I met people over my tour there and they helped me and I got better. I actually started tying flies before I started fly fishing and was pretty bad at it. My proportions were always off, I was tying Adams in size 2, yeah they were pretty huge. The only fly I could tie that looked close to what it was supposed to look like was a wooly bugger. My all time favorite fly. Recently I started a fly tying challenge on SCKayakfishing.com and some one made a comment about ugly flies and it got me thinking about my ugly flies. Just for the record though... I am a much better tyer now and do tie some pretty flies...
I was fishing some gold medal water in Colorado, ( Catch and release only, trophy waters), in 11-mile canyon. it was notorious for being hard to fish and having heavily pressured fish that were very picky and hard to catch. When I was at my local shop the guy told me to not even bother, I was too new and didn't have the skills yet to come close to catching fish there. I left home early in the dark and made my way down the road and eventually found the pull out right as the sun came up. I gathered my gear, a mish mash of cheap stuff I could afford and headed for the trail. As I hiked down the trail looking for, well I had no Idea what I was looking for. I knew where the water was but I had no idea what was good or bad. I fished a few pools and saw nothing. It was probably loaded with trout but I had no idea what to look for or how to "read" water. As I came down a little hill on the trail I finally found a pool and I could see 5 REALLY nice fish just rising and sipping bugs. My heart started racing, my hands shook a little. Nothing like seeing a redfish tail in the grass but I was geeked out pretty bad. I got a little closer and realized there was someone fishing already. I worked my way down and behind the pool so I wouldn't spook the fish and sat down on a rock to watch him for a while.
This guy was the Orvis catalog come to life. He had the perfect rod, the perfect reel, the hip waders, the cedar landing net, all the tools on a lanyard neatly around his neck, the felt hat with flies stuck in it, I mean this guy was a Trout Fisherman, a Purist I later learned was the correct term. I watched him tie on a fly, make perfect casts with laser tight loops, this guy was a surgeon with that fly rod. He worked those fish for about 45 minutes, changed flies about 80 times. Every cast he would lay down the trout would rise look at his fly and turn away or sip the real bug next to it. New fly same result. This was his mantra and he seemed to like it. He finally reeled up and came over to where I was. His name was Charles. Not Chuck or Charlie, it was Charles. He was a dentist from Denver. We talked about how tough the fish were. He showed me his fly box, about 200 flies all perfectly lined up arranged by size and color. My fly box was a cheap foam box with about 30 flies in it and they were stuck haphazardly wherever I could find room.
I looked at the pool, the fish had started their rising to bugs again and I asked him If I could give it a shot. He looked at me in my shorts and Chucks, my $20 Scientific Anglers rod and Shakespeare reel and literally laughed. (I had been fly fishing and tying for about 2 months now and by the way I still fish that $20 SA rod) When he got done laughing at me he asked what fly I was going to use. I held up my tippet with my carefully selected fly, that I used all my vast experience to choose, a size 16 "Trash fly". Yep the one where you get head cement stuck on a hook and drop it in your trash bag and whatever sticks to it makes your fly. I heard about this "mistake" fly and decided to actually "tie" one. His eyes got real big and he laughed so hard I thought he was going to literally die.
I stepped up to the run, took a really deep breath, pulled my line off my reel, mustered all my skill and training and made a really bad cast. The line slapped the water and my fly bounced off a rock, but the fly was in the water. The fish spooked but quickly settled down. I pulled my line out and tried again, better this time, a little softer, it was no where near where I wanted it but I let it drift and tried to concentrate over his guffaws. The first big trout in the run came out from the edge, and slowly rose to the fly, looked at it, followed it a bit and *sip* my fly was gone. Holy Monkey!!! I didn't know what to do... I had never done this before. I panicked and set the hook a little hard but the trout was on. He ran and jumped and freaked out like all good Bows do,and after a pretty quick fight I had him in my landing net.
My heart was racing, my hands were shaking, but I had a nice Bow about 18" in my hands, well in the net, in the water in my hands but you get the idea. The look on the guys face was priceless. He wasn't laughing now. I have never seen such disbelief in a persons face. The look was awesome, but it was even better when I asked him to take a picture of me with my fish. He shook his head and took my picture.
He left right after that and left me to to the run. I threw that fly back in there a few times and caught one more of the fish before they got wise to me. I reeled up my line and made my way back up to my jeep. I had a pretty good day and when I walked past the other Orvis Catalogs as they passed me and heard their snickers I just remembered I caught fish when they probably didn't.
The moral to this story is, a fly, or a fisherman for that matter, does not have to be perfect or pretty to catch fish.... So get on your vise and tie and ugly fly, strap on your Chucks and go fish...
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