Slowly, I stir within my down cocoon as consciousness lifts the fuzzy haze of awakening. The cool gray glow of early morning teases me into opening my eyes. I am in no hurry to abandon my feathered den for the cold light of this mountain’s frosty morning. Besides, my weather app predicts freezing early temperatures that won’t rise into the upper 30s until high noon.
There was no need to set an alarm clock. The tiny midges and mayflies — the focus of this fishing adventure seeking sipping trout with a favorite dry fly — will not emerge into the early freezing air. Why rush? I am here to fish, to forget about life’s responsibilities. Today I will walk the stony banks with my magic wand of graphite, a floating line, and a box of little dry flies tucked into the breast pocket of my woolen coat.
Last night’s stars have ceded their dark light to the bright blue sky. It is now midday. The soft crunching of frost announces my arrival along the stream. I stop, watch the steam rhythmically puffing from my nostrils — I’m like a fire-breathing dragon. My eyes focus along a current seam alongside an eddy, a calm, smooth pocket of refuge from the racing current. Dark specks float on the placid surface. One takes to the air — a midge, a mayfly? Does it really matter? The main thing is that rainbows are gently rising and sipping.
My numb fingers reach into my pocket, remove the warm box of flies placed in perfectly spaced rows like horses reined in by their riders awaiting the starting bell. There is a rippling ring left by a trout having eaten its meal. I reach for a little fly that has served me well. I call it the Dinner Bell.
It is a very simple creation, the end of a long line of experimentation, as close to a sure bet as there can be to succeed in enticing a hungry trout fattening itself before the snow falls. I fumble with the mono. My numb fingers struggle to twist the 6X plastic thread into a knot. Nope. I try again. Good. The fly is attached, ready to cast.
I look up. The little winged specks are still lifting off from the runway of the eddy. I make a few false casts to gauge the distance to where my fly must drop upstream of the rise. The trout will not move far for its meal. My cast shoots toward the target, only to fall short. Again and again my line settles off the mark. This repetition of casting feels good. The motion of muscle and a quickening heart reheats my flesh and bones.
Finally I send an accurate cast. I glimpse the bright pink wing case of my fly as I struggle to follow its drift, watching for any movement near where I last saw the fly. There! Strike! Fish on. It jumps and is gone, and so are all my worries, at least for a little while.
So went my day, striking and missing, sometimes connecting, and then a gasp of breath as my hand and fish slide into the icy current of the mountain stream.
Later, with the moon rising outside the windshield as I begin the drive down the mountain, I feel a little lighter, happier — satisfied. Finally I roll into the driveway, turn the key, and the engine quiets. The day’s adventure recedes into the calm spaces of my mind. Stored there among the heavy weight of many concerns is a stream, a trout, and a fly.
Perhaps you might want to try tying the Dinner Bell. Begin by placing a size 18 Daiichi 1150 hook in the vise. Attach a fine olive thread a little behind the eye. Choose about 10 strands of olive Antron yarn and secure it a sixteenth of an inch behind the eye. Wind the thread evenly over the Antron down along the shank to just beyond the bend. Trim the yarn, leaving about a shank length extending out as a nymphal shuck.
Evenly advance the thread forward. Stop short of the eye. Tie in a six-inch strand of golden olive Midge Body Thread and wind over it back to where the shuck begins. Advance the thread forward three-quarters of the way up toward the eye, being sure to create a smooth, tapered body. Now wind the sparkling thread three-quarters of the way up and tie off. You have made the abdomen.
Next, select about 40 hot-pink Fluoro Fibers and tie them in three-quarters of the way up on the shank, leaving them hanging back toward the bend. Now tie in a dun-colored CDC dubbing thread from Henry’s Fork Hackle to create the legs and wing, make two or three tight turns toward the eye, and tie off. Pull the pink fibers over the ball of CDC and tie off behind the eye, being careful not to trap the CDC as you whip finish the head. Finally, trim off the bottom CDC feathers, carefully trim to size the top and sides, and cement the thread head. You now have a fly that can be tied in many color combinations and sizes. Enjoy.
— Andy Guibord
