Most folks consider the Woolly Worm to be derived from the English Palmer Fly, which was popular with anglers as early as the Eighteenth Century. This American version may have originated in Arkansas as a bass fly, and in the 1950s, a friend from the South sent one to Don Martinez, a commercial tier in West Yellowstone, Montana. The story goes that Martinez would walk around his small fly shop tying Woolly Worms with a small hand vise, much to the delight of his customers. The pattern can be fished any way you want–as a wet fly, as a dry fly, or as a nymph–and it’s effective in all parts of the water column.
In this week’s video from Tightline Productions,Tim Flagler walks you through the process of creating an attractive a durable Woolly Worm. By using superglue and counter-wrapping both the chenille and hackle, Tim locks everything down, which will allow the fly to survive many fish mouths. Pay special attention to how Tim cords and uncords the thread for the most effective wraps.
Woolly Worm
Hook: 3X-long streamer hook (here, a Lightning Strike SN3), sizes 10-14.
Adhesive #1: Superglue.
Weight: Lead-free wire, .015.
Thread: Black, 8/0 or 70-denier.
Tail: Red Angora rabbit yarn.
Body: Black Ultra Chenille, micro.
Hackle: Grizzly saddle hackle.
Head: Tying thread.
Adhesive #2: Head cement.
My first fly catch was an Artic Grayling on the Little Susitna River. An older couple I befriended took me an my roommate to their favorite bend. Don had been an Orvis Guide in the 70’s (I believe) and Dee had worked at the Rainbow King Lodge. They gave me a rod and showed me how to tie on a fly. I floated the woolly worm through a riffle over and over. Got stuck a few times on the rocks. Then my line sopped. I pulled hard to free it and it shook. Don exclaimed, “That’s a fish!” After a short fight I brought the grayling to hand. It flipped once and was gone. When asked what I caught it on I showed Don the fly. He clapped me on the back and said, “Look at the hook.” The point was broken off at the barb. I’d landed a grayling on the bend of the hook. A feet I have never repeated.