And so, a new year begins as the old one departs. There is bright sunshine this morning to belie the air temperatures in the teens. Wind driven air strafes the Catskills, such that a walker determined to enjoy it’s freshness must brave single digit wind chill. I can hear that wind howling past the window above my fly-tying bench.
My inspiration this day was tied to the hoped for early spring hatches, Epeorus and Ephemerella, the Quill Gordons and Hendricksons. I wound soft hen hackles around the dubbed thoraxes bunched just behind the eyes of heavy wet fly hooks, flies to probe the riffles on those cold, windy days of searching to find the forerunners of the hatch.
Blasphemy you say, for a brother of the dry fly, but not if they are fished in the film! There it is hoped the motion of those soft, sparse hackles might tempt a trout still too aware of winter’s lethargy to sample a bit of life riding high on the surface.
I have friends who chose soft hackles and spiders first and foremost, and I always mean to give these flies their chance. They do find their way to my cast, though not nearly as often as their history might deserve. The dry fly is a stern master, particularly in a season where hatches are terribly sparse, thus I think once more of expanding my repertoire and easing my self-discipline. Should I find myself giving as many hours to sitting and waiting as last season forced upon me, these flies deserve a few casts to ease the mental anguish of my endless waiting!
These months are the bowels of winter. January and February rarely bring respite in these mountains. I have enjoyed it once in seven seasons, two or three days when a wisp of warmer southerly air teamed with distant rays of sunlight to urge river temperatures to flirt with spring levels! I chose the perfect hour of the perfect day and brought leviathan to hand. I still wonder if such a February afternoon will be a once in a lifetime Catskill experience.
I ponder the making of a few more flies, whether to complete the first dozen of the New Year on the first day, or wait for another burst of inspiration. Perhaps I will decide, after lunch…
Bright Waters Catskill 