I’d wager a guess that this is a question most of us have asked. Answers (read opinions) vary widely.
“They’ll eat your car keys.”
John Hazel, about steelhead.
I half agree. For me the answer is subjective: sometimes the fly matters a lot, other times it doesn’t.
Here are some things I’m quite a bit more confident in:
The pattern doesn’t matter at all. But honoring some basic criteria to get yourself in the ballpark might matter a lot.
Does the fly swim correctly? (keeled properly, not rolling over on it’s side; doesn’t float when its supposed to sink or vice versa, etc.)
Overdressed flies tend to fish poorly. And the tendency for newish fly tiers is to do just that – adding too much material. Hook choice is also critical. Too light a hook on a heavily dressed fly is a recipe for issues. But too heavy a hook can also be a problem if you are tying a sparse low-water pattern.
Does it look alive? The larger the fly, the more I think movement and undulation matter. Using materials that are soft enough to shimmer and wiggle adds a lifelike element to your fly. Too soft, without support, though, and the materials might collapse against the hook and again look lifeless. Combinations of softer hairs and stiffer fibers underneath – whether natural or modern synthetics – can often both maintain shape and lifelike movement.
Does the fly match the conditions? (e.g., a hairwing or something for summer steelhead in clear water and bright sun versus a 5” pink leech, vice versa in high, turbid, cold winter water)
In low, clear water, I like flies that blend in and look natural. In high, dirty water, I prefer flies that stand out – a heavier profile and colors that contrast with the water color, which could mean black or could mean bright and flashy.
Does the fly give you confidence? Every river has a slightly different tint to the water. I like to swim flies at my feet and see if they are both tracking well, and give the desired effect of natural or bold. Once I’ve selected something that gives me confidence, I’m unlikely to change unless the conditions change – light, water color, or a change in necessary fly sink rate.
Regional preferences are often based on at least a little bit of truth. Early in my summer steelheading career, I was drawn to all the flashy new materials hitting the market – ice dubs and flashabou, etc. On a particular western summer-run river, I was struggling big time. It took more than a couple of regulars looking at my fly box and saying “lose the flash” for me to take them seriously. When I finally listened to that advice, it changed everything for me on that river.
Over the years, my fly boxes have taken a lot of twists and turns. Last season’s flies being discarded for a whole new selection – sure to make drastic improvements in success. Process of elimination and years of experimention eventually led to simplification. Eventually, my winter fly box became one single pattern in three color variations – for gin clear water, perfect steelhead green, and dirty water.
And if I had to choose only one, even for everything from trout to steelhead and salmon to bass across the Western Hemisphere, I’d wouldn’t fret too much. For me, it’d be a black and blue rabbit or pine squirrel strip leech. Tie in a tail of black rabbit or squirrel, on a hook or tube, palmer a few turns of it forward, add a couple strands of blue Angel Hair and a bead or tiny weighted eyes – done. I tie it from a little trout tube of 1.5” on up to about 4” and it covers about everything. Ultimately,as Joseph Rossano said in last year’s book Crafting the Swung Fly, there is a magic pattern – confidence. But we also can’t forget the fun component: experimentation is fun, classics tied in hand by a close friend – also fun; and confidence is fun too.
