|
To some of us, the sport is really quite
simple.
Behold the dry-fly purist, with his form-fitting waders,
bulging vest, expensive graphite rod, and fancy English reel.
He speaks
Latin fluently and spends more time studying insects
than casting to
trout.
He'll be happy to bore you with the hoary traditions of dry-fly
fishing,
its ancient and honored roots in England where it all began
about 200 years
ago, where they're called anglers, not fishermen, and
where his counterparts
still fish by the strict rules of the river:
upstream dry flies only—and only to
rising trout—the sporting way.
The purist insists he doesn't care about actually catching trout.
He's above all that. He'd rather get skunked than demean himself by
using anything but a dry fly.
Well, at the risk of getting booted out of the Fellowship of Purists,
I'll let you in on our secret: We dry-fly snobs like to catch fish as
much
as you do. Sportsmanship, tradition, artfulness, and aesthetic
values have
nothing to do with it. We happen to know that dry-fly
fishing is the easiest
way to catch trout. That's why we like it.
Sure, there are times early in the season when trout sulk on the
bottom of
the stream. If they eat anything, it's a worm or a flashy
spinner or a weighted
nymph, fished deep and slow. But trout are mainly
insect eaters. They're most
vulnerable when they're gorging on bugs at
the surface, as they do at least part
of virtually every day of the
season. At those times, anybody with modest skill
and a dry fly that
even vaguely resembles the insect the trout are eating can
catch them
easily. Consider these factors:
1) Surface-feeding trout betray themselves and their precise
locations.
We dry-fly fishermen know when we're casting to a hungry
trout.
This knowledge gives us the confidence, patience, and persistence
to
concentrate on our goal: to catch that trout.
2) We know that when trout are at the surface, their range of
vision is limited.
Because we can locate our targets, we can stalk them.
By approaching
these fish from downstream and getting close to them, we
are able to make
short, accurate casts without spooking them.
3) When trout are feeding off the surface, there's little
guesswork to selecting
the right fly. We can see what they're eating
simply by observing what floats
past our waders. We don't need any Latin
to choose an imitation; we know
that a general approximation is usually
close enough.
4) We can see how our line, leader, and fly drift on the water,
so our
mistakes are visible. If the fly fails to pass directly over the
fish, our cast
was inaccurate. If it drags unnaturally across the
surface, that tells us why
he didn't eat it. Whatever we did wrong, we
can correct.
5) We can tell how the trout responds to our fly. If he sticks
up his nose
and sucks it in, we lift our rod, set the hook, and bring
him in.
If he refuses a fly that floats directly over him without drag a
few times,
we know we must change flies or change tactics.
6) Even when trout aren't actively rising, they're often eager
to take dry flies.
Drifting a big white-winged floater through riffles
and pocket water is about
as easy as trout fishing gets.
(by William G. Tapply)
|
