Extremes

Saturday we were shivering all day with our ancient heating system trying to make semi-comfortable conditions out of minus ten degrees temperatures. Sunday afternoon I was kicking back on the porch with the thermometer reading 52 as the sun tried its best to burn through the clouds over Point Mountain. What?

I know I keep saying it, but every season is different.

Drawing from the inspiration for the Partridge & Sulfur Orange, I tied a few more North Country style Translucence patterns, delicate little flies to match the ubiquitous small olives of the tailwaters and summer’s pale counterparts. Continuing the theme, I ordered some more of Alec Jackson’s hooks, larger sizes so I might prepare a few more imitations for spring and early summer. I will miss his dry fly hooks, as Daiichi seems to have discontinued making the model 1222.

Jackson’s design is perfect for 100-Year Duns, as well as any mayfly imitation with a canted wing. I believe that companies that cater to fly fishers and fly tyers should make it a practice to loudly announce their intentions to do away with products at least six months prior to suspending manufacture and liquidating their stock. There are always tyers and anglers who rely upon items not popular with the masses, and we would appreciate the chance to lay in a lasting supply before the cork is pulled.

I have been pursuing an interest in soft hackles and the English North Country spiders for the past year, though my curiosity was ignited quite some years ago. During one of my rare visits to the Fly Fishing Show I enjoyed a presentation by Mr. John Shaner on the form and history behind these English spiders. That look into the past put the style on my radar, and conversations with proponents the likes of Shaner and the Guild’s Tom Mason continue to fuel my interest. It is beyond difficult to get a dry fly out of my hand and off my leader on the rivers, but I am trying gentlemen.

I cultivated quite early my interests in angling history and traditions, and those interests hold sway upon me now more than ever, as I work on into my fourth decade with the fly rod. The more I explore this grand game, the more I shun the current great push of technology. I have come to the point where this most overused word in our language hits my ears like a profanity. Enough! There is a dignity and contentment inherent in fly fishing that too many are missing, as they are constantly assaulted by the competition of greed. Take an old cane rod out on a quiet stream, a simple reel and a basic floating line, and look and experience and feel what there is around you!