The Salmon fly hatch in June makes the trout celebrate.
|
When I asked Mike (who, by the way, knows everything) about fishing Salmon flies the other day, his eyes widened with the same exuberance of a kitten toying with a ball of brick-red yarn. In short, they bulged. I had never seen him so giddy in front of the fly bins—he practically bounced in his shoes.
I never knew a bunch of hackle tied to a hook could have such an effect on a full-grown man. “Give it a few more days over eighty degrees, and the trout will be pounding them,” he prophesied, short of breath.
Naturally, I’m a skeptic, but it’s hard to criticize a man so drenched in enthusiasm about this upcoming hatch—especially a man who has pulled in a 28-pound Steelhead in British Columbia with a fly-rod. But, as Mike continued to explain the hatch, his excitement appeared more and more well-founded to me. His logic ran something like this:
Hey, the Salmon fly hatch is the first major hatch of the year. The trout, which have just (he emphasized just) been scraping by on food through the winter, go absolutely nuts for these big, fat, juicy bugs. So the minute they hatch, you’d better get yourself out there, because the fly fishing will be fantastic.
But to my relief as critic (and Mike’s chagrin as fisherman) there are a few problems with the Salmon fly hatch. Generally, it occurs in the middle of June; the days are warming considerably from those of the April showers and May blizzards. (You have to love springtime in the Rockies.) And due to those May blizzards, like we had this year, the run-off can still be ripping when the hatch occurs—a major obstacle for hungry trout, hatching nymph, and dry-fly fisherman alike. High, fast, and murky waters often impede the fishability of a stream or river system early to mid-June, as the hatch begins.
On those streams that run clearly—like Williams Creek, a tail-water—throughout the spring melt, however, the excitement for the next few weeks will likely rise with the trout as they snatch the big Stoneflies off the surface. (You might be asking yourself, “Stonefly? I thought it was a Salmon fly…” The difference is largely in nomenclature: any of the Salmon flies belong to the insect order Plecoptera, of which the Stonefly is the major player in the Rockies. But ask a fly-fishing guide like Mike, and it’s, “Salmon flies.”)
These Stoneflies, after braving a long, drawn-out nymph-hood and living the aquatic life, crawl ashore and hatch. The long-bodied, black and orange Stoneflies then face a short adult life—without counting the dangers lurking beneath the waves. They focus all their energy on breeding, not feeding, and subsequently live, on average, a week.
This scramble to procreate constitutes the angler’s first of two presentation techniques while fishing a Salmon fly: an imitation of a female Stone laying eggs. Requiring a more delicate presentation to calmer waters and a fly to match the purpose, this method works well with a soft-hackle fly, like an Improved Sofa Pillow or a Clark’s Salmon Fly. A Designated Hitter or a Fluttering Salmonfly in the egg laying patterns (signified by the black patch at the end of the abdomen) suits the purpose as well. These females alight on the water lightly, without much fuss, so present accordingly to the fish—upstream, with a gentle touch.
The other reason Stoneflies might find themselves swimming the gauntlet happens to be their Butterfinger grip on the vegetation bordering the river. While these bugs love frolicking in the bushes, the wind often dislodges them from their perch and plops them in the river. The enlightened angler, then, tossing downstream of heavy vegetation, will present his or her fly to a greater number of fish. If throwing to riffles or broken water, some of the bright foam-stone patterns will work best: the Rogue Foam Stone or a Kaufmann Foamulator.
And for the next week (in the most American sense of the phrase), the bigger the Stonefly, the better. Once the trout’s attention has shifted from nymphs to the surface of the water for the first of the big stoneflies, use those number six and number four flies. But as the hatch wears on, the smaller (comparatively) Stoneflies will be more productive.
Writer Kevin Muirhead
|
So I repeat, if Mike can hardly sit still in anticipation of this upcoming Salmon fly hatch, you had better take his advice and string up the old fly-rod (hopefully NOT with breakable old line and leader) and hitting the rivers with those Salmon flies in the next few weeks. I’ll test Mike’s theory, too, and see if the trout can silence my inner critic.
Kevin Muirhead writes for Wolf Creek Anglers, and claims to love fly-fishing as much as he does writing. Though has fished in the Pagosa Springs area his entire life, he has attempted to abandon the area for most of the past three years, attending Colorado Christian University, where he studies English.
Wolf Creek Anglers, located at 169 Pagosa Street, has a remarkable collection of top-quality fly-fishing equipment, accessories, and clothing and retains a great selection of the flies you need to catch fish at any time of the year. Above all, however, they are an information-based business and would love to share their knowledge of the best-fishing streams and flies. Their guided trips, for beginner or expert, will never disappoint the angler who wants the extra edge provided by unparalleled guides or solitary waters in which to fish. For more information, visit www.wolfcreekanglers.com
|