I sat down at my bench and tied a trio of 100-Year Duns this morning, or at least I finished tying them. They were Quill Gordons, and I had affixed their tailing and wrapped their peacock quill bodies yesterday morning. I gave the bodies two coats of the Hard As Hull head cement I prefer to protect the quills, and set them aside to dry.
Catskill fly tyers have used lacquered counter wraps of white tying silk or fine wire for generations to strengthen the fragile peacock quills that form beautiful segmented bodies to copy many of our mayflies. I always felt those methods detracted from the perfection of the quill bodies, finding my chosen concoction a number of years ago. So, this morning I placed the partially tied flies back into my vise and attached the wood duck flank wings and barred dun hackles to complete my new and old variation on the classic Quill Gordon.
Ready for breakfast at this point, I set aside my tools and materials and stepped out into the kitchen. When I glanced at the front door, the vision of bright sunlight amid clear blue skies was magically blurred by the glimmer of falling snowflakes! I stepped into the living room and enjoyed that same vision, snowflakes spiraling down out of a cloudless blue sky and glimmering in the sun. That simple, yet remarkable event was brief, but it set my imagination alight!
I appreciate these little gifts from Nature that help me navigate these last desperate days before the trickling bounty of springtime welcomes us back to the rivers.
I had planned to go fishing yesterday. Too late on a very springlike Sunday afternoon, I had idly checked the river gages to find wadable flows on the Neversink. I had assumed the rivers on the east side of the Catskills were far too high as are those here on the west side. I expected to correct my misstep on a sunny, clear Wednesday morning, only to be derailed by the City’s raising the Neversink Reservoir dam release just enough to take wading the tailwater river off the table.
Baseball begins today, so I will have an Opening Day game to occupy my mind, and Friday will be a busy day, with a stop at the doctor’s office, then another to see my mechanic for boat trailer inspection and a brake check. Come evening, I will travel to Roscoe for the Angler’s Reunion Dinner, where we kick off the new season with a fine meal and friendships born of a passion for bamboo, dry flies and wild trout.
Tomorrow will also begin my final countdown to the magic of bright waters and the dry fly, though with more rain on the way that brightness could still be tempered by excessive runoff. Some doctors will be getting in my way as April begins, but I hope to be able to begin exploring rivers later in the week. That has become my own little ritual: walking rivers when I know there is little chance of a hatch and a rise just for the chance to be there, to embrace the opportunity to see it when it does all finally begin anew. I’ll take those Quill Gordons along though, just in case.
Bright Waters Catskill 