Dashing Through the Snow

There was nothing save dry pavement ahead as I headed to Roscoe yesterday morning, and more of the same upon my early arrival at the Rockland House, to help set up for Fly Fest 2023. Before I began tying a bit before nine, the snow was falling. It would continue throughout the day.

Everyone was pleased that we enjoyed a good turnout of fly tyers and visitors for the event, despite the weather. Fortunately, though the high temperate failed to make it out of the twenties, the road surfaces remained clear and safe for driving.

This is a particularly welcome event, coming as it does still amid the bowels of winter, a nice chance to get out and meet old friends and make some new ones. It is always special to meet fly fishers and fly tyers passionate enough about this game to travel to Roscoe in February!

My friend JA and I renewed our conversation regarding the body dubbing blend required to tie the classic Catskill Cross Special dry fly. We each blended fur from our red fox skins to arrive at the creamy color desired, working independently, and our results were very close to the same hue. We hoped that was evidence that we got it right.

Today’s fly tyers can tend to obsess over having just the right shade of color when we tie the classic Catskill patterns. From time to time, one of the scholars of our fly tying history needs to remind us that the legends we seek to emulate used what they had. There was no industry to provide every shade and nuance of materials, blended and packaged for convenient tying. Shades of color may have differed a bit from time to time, but the quality, pattern and fish-catching magic of the flies remained consistent; just one of the reasons those tyers became legendary.

In my attempt to pay homage to the style of Rueben Cross, I encountered some unexpected challenges. Cross flies displayed an amazing slender delicacy that became the standard for what was known as the Catskill school. Cross refused to teach his techniques to his budding contemporaries, leaving tyers like Walter Dette and Harry Darbee to purchase Cross flies and painstakingly disassemble them to study their construction, one wrap of silk at a time.

Each fly tyer tends to develop his own style based upon his influences and observations of Nature. My education in tying Catskill dry flies came from the late Larry Duckwall who had learned from Elsie Darbee, and many visits to Cottage Street in Roscoe where I watched Mary Dette tie her matchless dries. The Dette and Darbee flies revealed a slightly more tapered body, and a bit more hackle than the Cross originals, as these tyers developed their own styles. My Catskill dries take their influence in that same regard. Once used to tying a certain way, it takes sincere concentration to mimic the differing styles of others.

As a fly tyer for more than three decades, I have grown used to my own developed style. My fingers simply want to do what they are used to, almost ignoring my conscious intent. As mentioned, it is more of a challenge than expected.

The day passed too quickly, the crowd lively and sharing the anticipation for spring. I am not alone in counting down the days until the dark mayflies that inspired Gordon’s Quill may ride the riffles and awaken the Beaver Kill browns from their long winter’s nap.

The Catskill Fly Tyers Guild will continue our Thursday night fly tying sessions via Zoom again this week, tackling the venerable and elusive Cross Special. Perhaps I will make another try at the master’s style, here in the quiet of my own sanctuary today; just a bit less of everything!