John Gierach

How and Why to Use Two Flies: Tie On a Dropper and You Will Catch More Trout

fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 31 Aug 2005 20:00:00 -0400

Several of those fishermen were guides,whose endorsements can usually be trusted.Guides spend more time on the water than the rest of us,often with clients who are less than experts, and the best of them are ruthless about weeding out tackle and techniques that aren't easy and effective.

Two-Timing Trout

fieldandstream-editor — Sun, 21 Aug 2005 05:05:00 -0400

I came to dropper flies the way I typically come to any so-called new development in flyfishing. That is, several years late and only after half a dozen good fishermen told me they worked like a charm, especially on trout eating tiny insects coming off the water in late summer.

Several of those fishermen were guides, whose endorsements can usually be trusted. Guides spend more time on the water than the rest of us, often with clients who are less than experts, and the best of them are ruthless about weeding out tackle and techniques that aren't easy and effective.

The practice of tying two flies to one leader has actually been around for well over a century but came back into fashion a decade or so ago. Originally, dropper referred to the top fly because it was "dropped" directly off the main leader on its own short piece of line. Today, the order is reversed, and dropper flies are tied on an 18- to 24-inch section of smaller-diameter tippet attached to the bend of the first fly's hook with an improved clinch knot.

Although the combinations of flies you can use are almost infinite, typically the first fly is a large dry, and the dropper is something that sinks or is too small to be seen on the surface. The large fly acts as a strike indicator for this second fly.

"Fly locator" may be a better description than strike indicator, though. Sometimes your top fly will sink like a bobber when a fish takes the dropper, but if the short section of leader between the two flies isn't drawn up tight he can spit it out again without ever disturbing your indicator. That's why it's a good idea to set the hook whenever you see a rise or boil near your top fly.

It was this last aspect that the guides had in mind when they resurrected the technique. Clients could more easily fish small, hard-to-see patterns if they hung behind larger, more visible dry flies, and enjoyed the added advantage of having two hooks in the water instead of one.

Two-Fly Technique
Casting two flies at once isn't as hard as it sounds. Just use a slightly slower casting stroke, which will open up your loop a little (a tight loop is more likely to foul up when you're using a dropper). And fishing them is simple, too. I usually use a basic dead drift, unless I'm working a hatch of active insects like caddisflies, in which case adding a twitch or skitter may draw more strikes.

I fish these rigs in Cheesman Canyon on Colorado's South Platte River. This is famously technical water, where large wild trout can get infuriatingly selective to tiny flies. The trout might appear to be taking bluewing olive duns, but they could actually be eating cripples, emergers, floating nymphs, or something else entirely, like spent trico spinners floating flush with the surface. Because the rise forms often look alike, you're sometimes reduced to just trying different patterns until you connect.

I've learned to tie on a large dun as my top fly and leave it there, changing the trailer until I find something that the fish are feeding on. For one thing, at some point trout usually start eating the duns, so I like to have one out there. For another, the white-winged parachute pattern that I favor makes it much easier to fish the flush-floating or slightly sunken fly behind it that's hard enough to see when I'm tying it on, let alone when it's out on the water.

Keep it Clean
I've always hated to foul-hook fish, and it can happen when you're fishing these rigs. A trout goes for your top fly, and you miss him and then snag him in the belly with your dropper. You can avoid this by making sure that the length of the line between your top and bottom flies is never less than 18 inches. Other fishermen have told me that they need 22 to 24 inches, possibly because they set the hook harder than I do.

The Ugly Solution

fieldandstream-editor — Sun, 07 Aug 2005 05:05:00 -0400

The only time I ever saw trout feeding on grasshoppers en masse was on a prairie lake in Montana almost 20 years ago. It had been a lush, wet spring followed by a hot summer, ideal conditions for grasshoppers, and a standing wave of them rose in front of my old friend A.K. Best and me as we walked across a grassy meadow toward the lake.

When we reached the shore, dozens of the bugs plopped onto the water. Immediately, a trout took one. Then another hopper vanished. In less than a minute of furious feeding, all the insects were gone. Best turned to me. "So, what fly you gonna use?" he asked.

These moments aren't common, but trout (and trout fishermen) have good memories when it comes to such easy pickings. It's why I always carry some big, ugly dry flies in my box.

When to Use Them
There are three opportunities to fish these flies. One is when trout aren't actively feeding and it takes something exceptional to bring one to the surface. Another is during a sparse or intermittent hatch, when fish are in an eating mood but there isn't exactly a smorgasbord of insects available. The third is as a last resort amid a steady rise when the trout won't even glance at your best copies of the hatching insects. In all cases, big uglies usually work a little better in broken riffles and pocket water than they do in smooth glides.

Patterns to Pack
By fishing big, ugly dry flies, you're taking advantage of a trout's weakness for a juicy meal. Because you're not trying to copy something that the trout are actively feeding on, you don't need to worry about realism. I carry three varieties. Each has its own best application:

Hoppers: These flies are so popular that shops sometimes sell out of them by late summer. They can work beautifully at times, but on some heavily fished streams the trout have seen so many that they get wary of them and it can be worth trying something else.

My two favorite grasshopper patterns are the beefy Dave's Hopper and the trimmer and more visible (to me) Parachute Hopper. I've caught fish using these flies in open water but usually fish them close to shore. Try bouncing yours off some tall grass you find growing along the stream bank so that it falls into the water with an audible plunking sound.

lBeetles: I've had good luck at times with large beetles. The ones I use are made with black, closed-cell foam and have bright orange or chartreuse buttons of yarn tied in on top to increase their visibility. Most go by the generic name of foam beetle. As with hoppers, they're most effective when fished next to the bank on a dead drift.

Stoneflies: Stonefly patterns can work well if the trout are used to seeing and eating the big insects. I usually use Stimulators in various colors to imitate them but will tie on an oversize Goddard Caddis to serve double duty if I think that giant caddis are also in the area. With both patterns, I always try a dead drift first, but I'll twitch or skitter my fly a little if I don't get a strike right away.

If all else fails, get creative. I've talked to fishermen who have caught trout on oversize dragonfly patterns originally tied for bass, and even on bluegill poppers. These flies may not be pretty, but it's hard to care when you're catching fish.

Use Big, Ugly Flies to Catch Trout on a Fly Rod

fieldandstream-editor — Sun, 31 Jul 2005 20:00:00 -0400

The only time I ever saw trout feeding on grass-hoppers en masse was on a prairie lake in Montana almost 20 years ago. It had been a lush, wet spring followed by a hot summer, ideal conditions for grasshoppers, and a standing wave of them rose in front of my old friend A.K. Best and me as we walked across a grassy meadow toward the lake.

When Nothing's Rising

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 19 May 2005 05:05:00 -0400

A friend and I were standing on the bank of a river in western Colorado one afternoon, with our rods tucked under our arms, watching trout feeding on mayflies. Usually when fishermen are doing that they're planning their next move, but in this instance we had simply caught so many trout before the fish even started to rise that we were taking a break.

We'd arrived on the water hours before the expected afternoon rise and decided to split up and swing wet flies, hoping to pick up a few fish before the main event began. As it turned out, that tactic was the main event.

My standard fly for this kind of fishing is a lightly weighted size 14 Hare's Ear soft hackle. This is one of any number of flies that don't mimic any insect in particular but, by virtue of being a medium-size drab shape with legs, could pass for just about anything. These and other simple wet flies and soft hackles-the Brown Hackle Peacock, the Muskrat, the Starling and Herl, the March Brown, and the Leadwing Coachman-have been catching fish for centuries.

Swing, Step, Swing
The traditional wet-fly style that would have been entirely recognizable 100 years ago is still effective: Start with an across and slightly downstream cast, followed by an upstream mend. Let the current swing the fly down and across the river on a tight line until it hangs straight below you, and allow it to hover for maybe 30 seconds. Then take two steps downstream and do it again.

I'll often use this technique when I'm expecting a hatch but the bugs haven't started coming off the water, or when the hatch has started but not many fish are rising. It's also a great way to survey a trout stream. Fish the water in roughly 3-foot-wide stripes, so virtually every trout in the river sees your fly. This way, you can cover vast amounts and types of water, stopping only to go around logjams, beaver dams, and other fishermen. The method works especially well in faster or more broken water. Fish don't see the fly coming-it's just there and gone in a second or two, and they'll often grab it out of pure instinct.

[NEXT "Story Continued..."] These strikes can be vicious, so tie on a slightly heavier tippet than you'd use for dry flies or nymphs, anywhere from 3X to 5X, depending on how murky the water is. Since I'm usually anticipating a hatch, I generally attach that tippet to the end of a standard dry-fly leader nail-knotted to a floating line. If you want to start imitating surface bugs, just add some finer-diameter tippet and tie on a dry fly. Conversely, if you want to get deeper, tie on a weighted version of the wet fly or nip on a single small split shot.

The Miss-Take
The most common problem you may encounter when swinging wet flies is missing strikes. On most takes, you'll be facing downstream at a trout that's facing upstream. When you set the hook, you may pull the fly out of the fish's mouth. I learned a solution to this problem from a steelhead guide in Oregon a few years ago. Some steelheaders use what they call a "shock loop," a few inches of line hanging loosely between the reel and the index finger on the rod hand. If you hold the loop lightly and let it go when you feel a strike, the fish has time to take the fly and turn, so that when the line tightens against the drag of the reel, it's hooked solidly in the corner of the jaw. And the shock loop has the added benefit of absorbing the impact of a hard strike.

Some days, swinging wet flies is just a pleasantly old-school way to fish between hatches, but when caddis and mayfly nymphs are milling around in preparation for an impending hatch, you're missing out if you don't give this method a shot.

Heavy Lifting
Another way to imitate emerging mayflies or caddisflies is to use a technique called the Leisenring Lift. Cast upstream and let your fly sink as deep as it will go, then lift the rod slowly annd gently and let the force of the current swing the fly off the bottom and up toward the surface. This gives the fly a vertical action that some say is even more realistic than the horizontal wet-fly swing.

When Nothing's Rising

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 19 May 2005 05:05:00 -0400

Flood Sport

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 21 Apr 2005 10:00:00 -0400

The first few times I saw flyfishermen on some local streams during spring runoff, I wrote it off to that strain of cabin fever that hits when the trees are budding but the water is still high and muddy from snowmelt. I subscribed to the belief that discolored streams only fished well with bait, and I wondered why those fishermen weren't doing what I was doing: searching out the lakes and tailwater rivers that are mostly immune to spring floods.

I found out why more or less by accident. Here in the northern Colorado Rockies, there's usually a brief spring dry-fly season that begins when the water warms sufficiently at the lower altitudes, before snow in the high country has begun to melt in earnest and swell the streams. When it starts and how long it lasts depend on the weather and the depth of the snow in the mountains, and it can end suddenly and definitively with the first hot spell.

My discovery arose from a simple matter of timing. If I drove 20 minutes to a stream only to find it off color, it was easy enough to turn around and go home, but if I drove for two hours I'd feel obligated to give it at least a half-hearted try. When, just by going through the motions, I began to pick up a few trout here and there, I realized I'd been missing out on some great fishing.

Dirty (Water) Tactics
The fact is, trout do well in runoff. In a normal spring flood, the water is comfortably cool and well oxygenated by the tumbling currents. The increased flow also dislodges aquatic nymphs and washes bankside terrestrials like grubs, worms, and beetles into the stream, so there's plenty for the fish to eat.

[NEXT "Story Continued"] Visibility is the main thing to look for when fishing high water. Stand in the middle of a bridge over a stream in runoff: The main channel will look like a brown, roily mess, but check along the banks. If you can see even a few rocks in the shallow water, string up your rod.

For flyfishing, the more visibility there is the better, but it's surprising how little you can get by with. I know it's plenty clear enough to fish if I wade into a stream and still faintly see the toes of my boots in knee- or even calf-deep water. If it's any cloudier than that, I'll lower my expectations, but since the stream is still full of food, the trout are still hungry, and there I am in waders, I'll usually give it a try. My standard rig is a brace of flies: a size 4 or 6 dark stonefly nymph, trailed by something like a size 12 or 14 mayfly or caddis larva. I'll use as much weight on the leader as it takes to get the nymphs to the fish. You don't want to snag bottom on every other cast, but if you don't hang up now and then, you're probably not fishing deep enough. And although I'm not a big fan of strike indicators, I'll probably use one. They're no fun to cast, but I like an indicator large and buoyant enough to act as bobber, suspending the nymphs in the current.

I usually have a few great days fishing the runoff every spring, but most trips are of the kind where, after an hour or so, it becomes obvious that two or three trout will be the best I can hope for. Still, there's something about catching even a few small trout from a stream few others will bother with until later in the season that makes me feel pleasantly sneaky, and if someone sees me and thinks I'm an idiot, so be it. They may be right-just not about fishing the flood.

John Gierach's Deadly Dry Fly Tricks for Big Trout

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 31 Mar 2005 19:00:00 -0500

I don't remember the first time i put action on a dry fly—there's been too much water under the bridge since then—but I do remember the circumstances. It was a summer evening 30-some years ago on a creek I fished several days a week on the way home from my job as a landscaper. My tackle was always in the cab of the pickup. If the weather was right and I didn't get sidetracked, I was on the water and rigged up before the swarms of caddisflies materialized. As often as not, there was a half hour or so before dark when the brown trout went insane over those little brown bugs.

Skimming the Surface

fieldandstream-editor — Mon, 21 Mar 2005 05:40:00 -0500

I don't remember the first time I put action on a dry fly-there's been too much water under the bridge since then-but I do remember the circumstances. It was a summer evening 30-some years ago on a creek I fished several days a week on the way home from my job as a landscaper. My tackle was always in the cab of the pickup. If the weather was right and I didn't get sidetracked, I was on the water and rigged up before the swarms of caddisflies materialized. As often as not, there was a half hour or so before dark when the brown trout went insane over those little brown bugs.

I know I had recently read Leonard Wright's 1972 book, Fishing the Dry Fly as a Living Insect, because that's where I got the idea-and I had been looking for an idea because, as violent as these feeding frenzies became, I was only occasionally hooking trout by fishing a traditional upstream cast with a dead drift. Wright called his technique for putting action on a dry fly "the sudden inch," and it seemed simple on paper. Instead of casting upstream, Wright suggested casting down and across the current with an upstream mend and giving the fly a slight upstream twitch as it neared a rising trout. He contended that the fly should not only look like a real insect but also act like one, and that the approach was ideal for swarming caddisflies that bumbled and skittered on the water.

Although I tried to execute Wright's technique, it didn't work perfectly that first night. My clumsy attempts at twitches resulted in motorboat wakes that spooked the fish. The wild trout in that stream didn't get much fishing pressure, but even though they weren't very sophisticated, they weren't entirely stupid.

The best fly action is an upstream tick so subtle that you almost can't see it at the end of your leader. Ideally, the fly should move no more than half its hook length. That's not much more than a hairbreadth when you're fishing a No. 18 mayfly dun, but visualizing it that way helps develop a light touch. Make a few test drifts-well short of the fish but in the same current-until you get the twitch just right. Use the rod tip to impart action to the fly, but remember that the length of the rod will amplify the motion of your wrist.

Trying for that kind of subtlety, I often undershoot the movement and the fly doesn't budge at all, but that's okay. It's still a perfectly good downstream dead drift that might draw a strike, so I just fish out the drift and then try again on the next cast. The hardest part to learn is when to use this technique. It's a smart move if swarms of caddisflies are mating, and also during mayfly hatches, while the insects flutter their wings and scoot forward on the water before getting airborne. But the best clues for figuring out when to enliven your fly come from the fish. Watch the rise forms: If most of the trout are sipping quietly, they're probably concentrating on the dead-drifting flies; if they're slashing, they're going for the ones that are twitching.

No rule is set for determining how far ahead of a rising fish the twitch should be timed. Some say a foot and a half. Others prefer 6 inches. I've never developed a firm opinion on this, but I think that erring on the side of more distance is better than doing it too close to the fish. I have occasionally given a fly what I thought was a perfect little scoot only to have an interested trout turn away at the last second. That's happened often enough to result in this principle: Regardless of what the fish and the bugs are doing, don't add action to the fly until you've exhausted the dead drift first.

Sometimes a good fish is quietly sipping dry flies and I can't get him to bite with a dead drift, even after changing flies, adjusting my drift, lightening my tippet, and doing everything else I can think of. So as a last-ditch gesture, I give my fly a little scoot as it drifts down to him, and every now and then he'll just eat it. There's no telling why.

High-Riding Dries
It's possible to put subtle action on any dry fly, but some patterns stand up to it better than others. The best are those that use buoyant materials and ride high in the water, such as an Irresistible tied with a clipped deer-hair body and a stiff collar hackle. Other good patterns include the Humpy, Elk Hair Caddis, Goddard Caddis, and Stimulator.

John Geirach's Tips for Catching Early-Spring Trout

fieldandstream-editor — Fri, 18 Feb 2005 05:20:00 -0500

Early one spring, the head guide at a fishing lodge on Colorado's West Slope asked a friend and me to help him scout some area lakes. He wanted to see how the fish had held up before his first clients arrived, and he needed a couple of extra rods to cover the water. There was a set of large ponds strung up a narrow valley that didn't get much sun. They were still half frozen, but the trout were lying along the ice shelf as if it were an undercut bank. The trick was to drop a weighted Woolly Bugger within an inch of the lip, let it sink for a count of five, and begin a slow retrieve.