Winter Is For Fly Tying

During the cold months, when I'm not out fishing, I'm usually getting caught up on my tying for the year. That doesn't mean I won't tie throughout the season as well. Normally I have to tie at least weekly and sometimes more. If I'm fortunate, however, I can get far enough ahead now that I won't have to tie large quantities until next winter. That opens up more time for fishing and of course doing other important things.

I like to pursue my winter fly tying in an orderly fashion. Typically, I focus on the flies that I go through the most in a normal season. That means lots of midges for the tailwaters and the usual nymphs, dry flies, and terrestrials for the mountains. As a guide, I tie the vast majority of the flies I guide with. There are some exceptions though. While I really enjoy tying stimulator and parachute style flies, I will often buy a good supply of those in bulk because of how many I go through in a season. Nymphs and midges, on the other hand, are flies that I can produce quickly in bulk and make sense to tie my own. This is especially true because I tie some patterns that you cannot purchase commercially. 

And that is at the root of my fly tying. I like to experiment. Tweaking existing patterns and also coming up with my own flies is part of the excitement of the sport of fly fishing. It is said that there is nothing new under the sun. Thus, most of my supposed inventions are ones that someone else is tying somewhere else. In fact, most of my inventions were motivated by flies that I've already seen or been told about. However, when there are more and more anglers out on the water than ever before, sometimes the difference between a slow day and a good day is just a subtle variation on a standard pattern. The fish see the same "shop flies" over and over again every day on some rivers. Sometimes, those shop flies work great, but you have to think outside the proverbial box.

This last year in the Smokies, I had a late season epiphany that really changed the success we had one day on a brook trout stream. The common wisdom is to fish yellow well into the fall. That is because of the availability of a vast array of yellow bugs in the warm months, perhaps the most important of which are the little yellow stoneflies found so plentifully on our southern Appalachian streams. In other words, the conventional wisdom is there for a reason and usually yellow works. However, when you are on a fairly pressured stream, never mind that you're fishing for brook trout, there comes a point in the season when the fish start to get finicky. That's a good thing and just means that the vast majority of anglers are releasing their catch which is as it should be with these native jewels.

Anyway, back to my story, there we were on this brook trout stream and the fish are only half-heartedly inspecting our standard yellow dry flies. Going smaller in size got a bit more interest, but it was clear that the fish were onto the game at this late point in the season. So what did we do? Small, dark, and subtle. I didn't notice any dark bugs on the water, although in the Smokies anything is possible at almost any time of the year. What I did notice, though, was that the brook trout were no longer shy. Even with brook trout, showing them something they aren't used to seeing can be the ticket. 

On the tailwaters, that means carrying a large variety of color schemes on my midges. In particular, I carry a wide variety of colors with my Zebra Midges. It is no coincidence that my old article on fishing the Zebra Midge is one of the all time favorites on this blog. This is one of the most fish catching flies that I know of. I mostly use it on the tailwaters, but it also catches fish in the Smokies. There are so many possible combinations of bead color, wire color, and thread color, that I couldn't begin to list them all here. I will say that some of my favorites include black and silver, black and copper, olive and copper, and chocolate and copper. Most of my most successful midge patterns are darker, but sometimes lighter colors are the ticket.

Recently, I decided to share a quick video of tying the Zebra Midge over on YouTube. If you haven't already, check out my channel there. My goal is to share a lot more content via video in addition to the usual blog posts here. While you're there, make sure and subscribe to the Trout Zone Anglers channel. There is another midge pattern that I have shared there that I probably fish even more than the Zebra Midge these days. It has accounted for more fish over the last few years than any other fly and also plenty of big fish. For those of you who are experienced fly tiers, these videos probably won't provide much new info, but I'm mostly trying to help out those who are just getting into fly tying. 

The recent explosion in popularity of fly fishing is bringing more and more people into the sport. Not everyone will decide to also take up fly tying, but the satisfaction it brings is well worth considering. Because our good friends at Little River Outfitters are not able to do tying classes right now because of COVID, I'm going to try and share tying videos more often over the next couple of months. If you have a specific pattern you would like to see (or other content), please let me know in the comments below OR send me an email.

Back to my fly tying, I'll work on midges and streamers for now. I have several tailwater guide trips lined up and those are the most likely to be needed over the next couple of months. As we get closer to spring in the mountains, I'll be tying quill gordon and blue quill imitations in anticipation of the first hatches of spring. I also need to replenish my little black caddis imitations. This is an overlooked hatch that can provide surprisingly good fishing.

Before late spring, I also need to replenish my terrestrial box. Mostly that means making sure I have plenty of green weenies and barbie bugs along with some beetles and ants. What I really need to do is get out all my fly boxes and start working on refilling them in an orderly fashion. This guarantees that I won't forget something important. One of the worst feelings is getting out on the stream only to discover you don't have the right pattern.

If you carry a tying kit with you, then you could quickly spin up a couple. That doesn't work very well when you're guiding unfortunately. To be fair, who carries a tying kit with them on regular fishing trips? I take one with me on big trips. I have many good memories of sitting at a picnic table in the evening in Yellowstone or Colorado and whipping up some bugs for the next day. Nowadays, I try to prevent this from being necessary by planning ahead though. If you haven't gotten into fly tying yet, consider giving it a try so you can be prepared as well. 

When the Fish Are Where They Should Be

A big part of guiding is knowing where to find fish. Of course, it also helps to know what those fish will eat once you find them. However, if you can't find fish, then it won't do you any good to have the right flies. Some days are easier than others, of course. On those days, the fish are where they should be. You know what I mean. Those obvious spots that hold fish more often than not are popular with lots of anglers for a good reason. Sometimes, those spots aren't quite as obvious. Nevertheless, if you know the water well, the fish are still where they should be. 

Yesterday, I was able to get out and fish a river that I haven't been on as much as I would like lately. This lack of fishing is mostly because I've been busy with non fishing things. This is the time of year that I'm able to catch up on things that get neglected through a long and busy guiding season after all. Still, it was good to get out and the weather was about as pleasant as you can ask for this time of year.

My buddy John came along to fish and help rowing a little. We started while the generators were still running. John wanted to try his streamer setup with some newly tied streamers. Those proved enticing to some skipjack but at this point, the trout eluded us. As soon as the water cut off, we started slowly drifting down the river with what we thought were the right flies fished in the right places. And we drifted, and drifted, and so on and so forth. Fish were occasionally rising so we knew there were some around. We weren't sure how many, but some fish is better than no fish. Amazingly, we were much farther down than we had wanted to be without a bite and it was time to change. I suggested a possible fly I was considering, and John said he was thinking the same thing.

I anchored for a minute while he changed his rig and then started drifting again. Not too far down the river, we were coming into a run that has historically held plenty of fish but has been slow the last few years. I positioned the boat and suggested he switch to the right side of the boat. A short drift later, his indicator went down and we were into our first trout of the day. When he almost immediately got another bite in the same spot, I started thinking that I should probably change flies as well. 

By the time we got to the next big run, I had switched up flies as well. With the boat in the perfect spot, I decided to anchor for a bit so we could both fish. The wind was blowing strong so we had to work a little at casting and mending. Once the drift was started, we could extend it by throwing more line into the drift with the rod tip. Keeping just enough slack is tricky in this situation. If you get too much, then setting the hook is nearly impossible. Not enough and you'll end up with immediate drag. 

Finally, after several solid drifts, my indicator shot under and when I set the hook, I knew it wasn't a little stocker rainbow. After a strong fight, a healthy brown trout can to hand in the 14 inch range. I took a couple of closeups because the fish had incredible blue spotting behind the eye. After a few more drifts without another bite, I pulled the anchor and we started down the river. A few bites came as we moved through the tailout of the pool, and then we moved on down to the next spot.

The next little run was where things started to look predictable. I again maneuvered the boat into position and suggested John try a spot to our left. After a short drift, just when I was thinking that maybe there weren't fish there, the indicator shot down. We quickly netted the rainbow and on the very next cast, he had another bite. The fish were where they should be.

That pattern then continued on down the river. In fact, several of his fish came after I said something like, "You should have a hit any second." Those are the sorts of things guides love. This wasn't a paid trip, of course, but it always gives you confidence. Clients always think you're a magician when you predict bites a second before it happens. There really is no magic here, though. The fish are simply where they should be.

To learn where the fish should be, it is necessary that you spend a ridiculous amount of time on the water. This knowledge is not something that happens overnight. Often, these things can change year by year. Yesterday, I was noticing how much the river has changed over the last few months and also how it is similar to the usual river we all know and enjoy. Features change, fish move, but they also are where you would expect.

The best fish of the day was near the end of a stretch that had produced a few fish already. We were nearing the end of one of the better pools. I suggested to John to get a little closer to the far bank. He dropped his fly into position. The mend set up the right drift and soon the indicator was diving. When he set the hook, the fish seemed a little more solid. It came mostly right to the boat though. When he lifted its head, the fish saw the boat and went ballistic. We came close to losing this beauty in the resulting fight, but somehow everything held. We had to pull over for a quick picture of this fish before heading on down the river towards the takeout ramp.

Glacier Day Four: Hiking to Avalanche Lake and Going Back to Polebridge

This was our last short day before we attempted a big hike. When I say short, some people might disagree as we put about 7 miles on our boots. We were starting to get in a good hiking rhythm, though, and were about ready for much bigger things. To obtain parking, we did our usual early start and caught yet another amazing sunrise. Probably we should have been up another hour earlier and tried to catch the sunrise from Logan Pass, but getting up at 5:00 am seemed reasonably early to both of us but 4:00 am not so much.

Parking and Hiking to Avalanche Lake

As we approached the Avalanche Lake parking area, I could see tons of vehicles already there. Glancing back in the "exit" from the main parking area to the left,  I noticed a couple of parking spots. Ignoring what appeared to be full parking ahead and to the right, I quickly swung in and drove around. Coming around the curve in the parking area close to McDonald Creek, I spotted a couple of parking spots still available! We quickly grabbed one. Almost immediately, someone else grabbed the other one. As we ate our breakfast, other cars took up the circling routine like hungry vultures. We had yet again barely made it. 

The trail begins across the road from the main parking area. We quickly got across and entered one of the most beautiful cedar groves we saw in Glacier. This portion of the trail is absolutely enchanting. Before long, the trail reached the hillside. Gushing out from a small canyon was Avalanche Creek which the trail roughly follows all the way to the lake. The stream stays out of sight much of the time. However, at the beginning of the climb, it gets close to the little slot canyon where the stream pours out into the flat cedar grove just above McDonald Creek.

If the Hidden Lake Trail was the busiest we hiked, this one was not noticeably behind. People were everywhere. As this was a narrower trail, people were being just a little funny about COVID. We tried to be careful and stay respectful which is tricky when your hiking pace is significantly faster than probably 98% of the other hikers. Thankfully, everyone else was being nice as well, and soon we were finally approaching the lake.

Avalanche Lake in Glacier National Park

Avalanche Lake is stunningly beautiful. The glacial snowmelt contributes to one of the most incredible colors I've seen anywhere. I've been trying to decide what color this is, but so far I don't have a good description. Maybe I need to buy a box of Crayola crayons to help. What color do you see peeking through the trees here?

The trail basically runs into the bottom end of the lake. We stumbled out amongst the rocks and boulders just like everyone else. The sun was rising higher and threatening to burst over the ridges at the head of the lake. The perfectly calm lake surface produced a remarkable mirror effect. The surrounding hillsides and waterfalls were reproduced in the tranquil lake surface. 

At this point in our hike, I actually wished we had gotten an earlier start. This didn't happen often during our time in Glacier. However, the lighting, while dramatic, would have been better much earlier before the sun started striking the opposite ridges. If I ever have this to do again, I would like to hike both earlier and later when the sun is straight overhead. There are different advantages to each light situation and we enjoyed the one we were gifted with to the utmost. As the sun continued to creep closer and closer to cresting the ridge, dazzling shafts of sunlight moved ever lower down the ridges and evergreens. 

Eventually, we worked our way all the way to the head of the lake and took in the views looking back the other way.

At this point, I came close to fishing a bit. As you'll recall from adventures of previous days, I was carrying a Tenkara rod with me on most of our hikes. You just never know what you might find. There were occasional fish rising, and I was itching to catch some more cutthroat. These beautiful fish are always a treat since we don't have them in Tennessee. Unfortunately, it was not to be on this particular hike. We had ample time, but the fish were rising just a little too far out. Thus the limitations of Tenkara eventually came back to haunt me. I still greatly enjoy fishing this way, but at least once on our trip, I wished I had carried a regular fly rod.

We were enjoying the lake, but decided to try and get some more done on this day. We had a lot of exploring that we could still do in the Polebridge vicinity so we started back down the trail. One last selfie was in order as the sun finally burst over the ridge. 

Down at the bottom, we wandered through the cedar grove and stopped long enough for a picture of Avalanche Creek. The colors of the rocks and water were almost like a painting. 

When we got back near the car, we discovered something interesting. At this point in our visit to Glacier National Park, we were getting serious about keeping track of our hiking mileage. We were still a 1/4 mile short of seven miles and were wanting to push the numbers up a little. Instead of getting in and leaving immediately, we instead wandered down to McDonald Creek and took in the scenery there. A little walking up and down the shoreline along with taking some pictures increased our total mileage to just over seven miles for the day. 

My wife was keeping meticulous record of our distances with her Garmin Forerunner 235. I was starting to get into the spirit of things and wanted to see how far we could push our total mileage. After four days, we were sitting at 24.08 miles. We needed to seriously pick up the pace if we wanted to hit any big numbers. The next day was the first push for big miles. Our legs were feeling fresh and ready to go.

Back to Polebridge and Visiting Bowman Lake

We were beginning to enjoy our daily drives up to Polebridge. While I wasn't getting anymore fishing in up there, I knew it was available if the urge struck. There were still lots of places to explore, however, and we were wanting to see what we could find. When we reached the Polebridge entrance, we pulled up to the small entrance station and were surprised to find it occupied. The ranger there was nice and advised us that we probably couldn't make it to Kintla Lake but that Bowman Lake would probably work with our Toyota Corolla. Naturally, we headed towards Kintla Lake. 

Our assumption was that the ranger was probably recommending Bowman Lake to all visitors, so perhaps there would be more wildlife towards Kintla. If and when the road got too bad, we would just turn around. We never did figure out if our assumption was bad or if there were just a lot of visitors. Either way, we hadn't made more than a couple of miles before deciding to turn around. There was a ton of traffic and we assumed that it would scare off any wildlife that might have been otherwise around. We did find a few wildflowers including the harebells (first picture) and sticky purple geranium (second picture) below. There were also nice views of the distant mountains, but otherwise this was a wasted drive.

The turnoff to Bowman Lake was back near Polebridge and we decided to try and make the drive. Our little car was great for gas mileage, but the rough roads made me slightly uneasy. In my younger days, I've taken sedans down some truly ridiculous jeep trails roads. However, we were in my wife's car, and I didn't want to mess it up too badly. The road to Bowman Lake wasn't bad thankfully. There were a few rough spots, but nothing that simply slowing down wouldn't help. We arrived at the lake and quickly found parking before strolling down to the shoreline. 

Like most of the west side lower elevation lakes, Bowman was huge with the headwaters back near the mountains of Glacier National Park. We briefly contemplated a hike, but instead just wandered briefly around and then headed out. The next day we were hoping for a new hiking personal best and wanted to get a good night's rest.