I am a dry fly purist. Call me a snob, or a nut, even fanatic. But here is my sincere belief: dry fly fishing is the pinnacle of our beloved sport. Nothing compares to it. For me, and many others, it is the only way to fish. Now I mean to preface by saying I'm describing not just a method, but the type of water (moving, clear rivers and streams) and the fish: trout. It is the only way I will fish.
Let me first be clear that I don’t refute other methods of fishing (Halford was kinda off the deep end) and I have been known to swing wet flies and streamers, particularly when fishing with my son in Alaska, or flyfishing summer steelhead. But generally my preferred method is dry fly fishing for trout in moving waters. Even pursuing Alaskan rainbows and home-waters steelhead I prefer waking a top water fly to anything sinking. In providing the punch line before diving into my personal experience: I love seeing a fish rise to the offering!
In 60 years of fly fishing, my purism evolved to its current level from a vast amount of experience. I’ve had lots of days with little or no action, even fishing conditions I know are not conducive to dry flies. I usually end the day. When I was younger, that would never happen, so I have spent plenty of time fishing wet flies, nymphs, streamers and even experimented with indicators and dropper rigs. I’ve caught fish with all these methods, and find it most unsatisfactory. Over the last two decades, in particular, I’ve arrived at a point where I am very conscious of the fact that once the fish has been fooled, and the hook set, the landing of the quarry is secondary, often anticlimactic. It also means that while big fish are certainly fun, size matters less to me. I also want to fish native fish, not stocked. So how did this come about?
Briefly, I am self-taught, and my initial experiences with fly fishing was primarily with wet flies in still water (warm water lakes in my home state of Minnesota, producing mostly pan fish). By high school, armed with a driver's license, I began exploring the streams of southern Minnesota, northeastern Iowa and western Wisconsin, now commonly referred to as the “driftless” area due to its geology. https://obtu.org/fishing/wisconsin/driftless-area-2/ My first efforts were with spinning gear. I used bait, but did learn the importance of a “drag free drift”, the streams are gin clear and I could watch trout reject my offering if it deviated from a free drift.
I reflect on an important experience in my teen years. I occasionally took my fly rod along on such excursions, but didn’t always use it. On a particular day, I came across a fly fisherman casting to a stretch of water I wanted to try, probably with a wet fly. I sat on the bank and watched, waiting for him to move along. I was immediately taken with his casting skills. I also thought I could make out a fly at the end of his line that seemed to be floating. The rise was unmistakable, but startled me. The trout was brought to hand.
Two things that day stay with me: first was the habit I now have of spending time each day on the water simply observing, not just other anglers but just the river. Many great authors of fly fishing, including Vincent Marinaro in his Modern Dry-fly Code (1950), Col. E.W. Harding and his ground breaking book The Flyfisher and the Trout’s Point of View (1931) and Rodrick Haig-Brown: A River Never Sleeps (1946) emphasize the importance of observation, as do many more modern fly fishing authors. The second awareness, quite a bit slower to influence my fishing, was the importance of the cast. I would say that my casting skills continue to this day to improve, and those skills are the foundation of my effectiveness as a dry fly fisher.
Later that season, on a small Iowa stream, I caught my first trout on a fly. It was a lousy cast, shear dumb luck as my leader straightened and a slightly suicidal trout but an exhilerating experience, etched forever in my memory.
Fly tying began for me from the time I began fly fishing. In part it was due to the lack of a fly shop within a bike ride distance (truth, in 1960’s in Minneapolis, I only knew of one shop in the entire city). Retail drug store packaged flies were disappointing, and the only one I really ever used was a McGinty Bee wet fly. A gifted Thompson vise and a Herters catalogue got me started. Today I tie only dry flies, and love researching the origins and evolutions of famously named dry flies.
I realize that many fly fishers will find my purism to be offensive. I’m happy to debate. The determinate position for dry fly superiority is partly supported by the tackle. A modern high end fly rod is designed to deliver the dry fly, although plenty of design and marketing effort have gone into rods for nymphing and streamers. Ponder this: I can fish nymphs (tungsten beaded, split shot and bobber, excuse me, “indicator”) and streamers with a light weight spinning rod, possible with better results. I can’t fish a dry fly with that equipment. As a casting instructor, i’ve sseen few fly fishers that can actually, accurately cast a nymphing rig, though I have not fished the Euro lines with built in indicators. The amazing level of modern fly rod design focuses on accuracy, and in some cases distance. The newly rediscovered joy of casting slow action fiberglass rods, and the continued passion that bamboo evokes, reinforces the focus on the dry fly.
The challenge of dry fly fishing is also very appealing. We all understand the importance of presentation. The elements of effective presentations are: reading the water and assessing the best “lies” of the trout; accurate casting; drag free drift, extended as long as possible; the correct fly (although a rather famous fly caster Carl McNeil is quoted as saying “fly selection doesn’t matter, the presentation is what catches fish”); and, finally, the patience and commitment to the dry fly approach. There are, of course, many more subtleties to effectiveness. I would argue that presentation is important in wet fly, streamer and nymph fishing, but the nature of those methods reduces the skill levels substantially. I like a challenge.
Let me close with a quick visit to fly fishing history. Many readers will know of the “debate” of Fredrick Halford and G.E.M. Skues. They actually never directly debated, but Halford took a rather extreme view that anything other than dry fly fishing to feeding trout was unethical!
Skues was most likely a dry fly fisherman himself. His contribution was the examination of the aquatic life pre-hatch: the nymph! This contribution is significant to the advancement of all fly fishing, particularly to the modern understanding of hatches. Dry fly fishing became popular in the mid-1880’s. Halfords writings from 1886 to 1913 established his rigid belief in dry fly fishing as the only proper way to fish for trout. Skues didn’t challenge Halford until his work Nymph Fishing for Chalk Stream Trout (1932) years after Halford passed away.
Despite the fact that Halford and Skues never directly debated, their positions quickly became sine qua non of the fly fishing world debate that followed. That debate continues to this day, and while the fiery rhetoric has ceased, fly fishers still delight in the discussion, and, quite frankly, the continued discovery.
So, choose as you will to pursue either or both approaches to fly fishing. I’ll see you on the river!