One August afternoon on a southern Colorado river, my guide handed me one of the more godawful dry flies I’d ever seen—an abomination constructed entirely of foam, rubber, and synthetic fibers. Although hardly a purist, I do appreciate at least a nod to fur and feathers in a fly, and this thing looked like a science project. Seeing the look of horror on my face, Jason assured me that the fly was his favorite hopper pattern for the water and a pattern on which he had taken some real monsters. One of the important lessons I learned when I was a guide was “Always trust your guide,” so I didn’t argue.
For the next hour, I worked upstream, casting that monstrosity into every pocket, along every cutbank, and next to every seam, without a single hit. It was inconceivable, really, that the fly wasn’t producing under such prime conditions. There had to be trout in these spots, and they should be looking upward for a big, tasty meal. Finally, unable to take it any longer, I clipped off the foam pattern and tied on a Parachute Hopper—a fly I use to great effect from July through September on the freestone mountain streams of Vermont.
On the third cast, a gorgeous cutthroat smacked the fly, and as I brought the fish to hand, I felt vindicated. The rest of the afternoon was a bonanza. Cutthroats and cuttbows in side channels and along the banks eagerly attacked the Parachute Hopper, to the point where the savaged fly had to be retired to a place of honor at the center of the fleece patch on my vest.
Surely this was a victory for natural materials, time-tested patterns, and the traditional prejudices of the intellectual East, right?
Nah. The failure of the Foam Hopper was probably my own damn fault. I didn’t have confidence that the fly would work, and that turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy. The rationalists among us will pooh-pooh this notion as overly superstitious, but there’s just too much anecdotal evidence to ignore. How many times have you seen your luck change when you tied on one of your “go-to” patterns?
If I need a streamer that I know will work, I generally choose the Hawkins Triple Double.
Photo by Phil Monahan
The only explanation I can come up with is that it’s not the fly at all, but the fact that you fish better with a fly that you believe in. You cast more carefully, allow the fly to drift longer and are more prepared for a strike that you expect to come at any moment. There are certain flies in my vest that just feel more right than others in a given situation. Had Jason fished that foam nightmare over the same water, I bet he would have caught just as many fish as I did with my parachute version. It’s just another way that fly fishermen can all enjoy the same sport, yet each makes it his own.
So what’s your confidence fly and why?
Royal Coachman – wet or dry .
Conehead black wooly bugger (black). Parachute adams size 14.
Jujubaetis – size 22
Posted from the Orvis Fly Fishing App
Amen!
Bead head olive bugger with flash sz 14
Pheasant tail nymph sz 16
Sheep creek # 10 The only fly I need !
Bead Head March Brown Nymph Size 12
Dry – Blonde Humpy
Nymph – Hares Ear
Streamer – Black Wooly Bugger, what else?
Salt – Chartreuse Deciever
Dry: klinkhammer usually Adams color
Nymph: Copper John 14, currently light green
For the fall caddis hatch, a 8 to 12 caddis using CDC for wing, tying with hair is messy.
Dry: Parachute Adams
Nymph: Bead head Prince
That is the only two hatches there are in the Sierra.
Streamer: Olive wolly bugger size 8 or 10
Striper: Chartreuse deceiver or blu/wt
Dry EC, BWO
Nymph: golden stone or dark lord
Purple Haze (dry)
Bird’s Nest (nymph)
Cone-head Zuddler (streamer)
Zebra midge (black)
Must have fly
Totally agree with Lane
Wooley Bugger, cone head or traditional tie and of course the Adams.
Iris caddis
Pheasant tail size 16
I wouldn’t be caught dead on a stream without the AuSable Parachute and E.C. Caddis
Crackle back, blue or green and Elk hair caddis.
Brad head Hares Ear #10 and a Soft Hackle #10-16
– Copper John
– Elk Hair Caddis
– BH Prince
Jan’s Carp Tickler
White Wooly Bugger
Size 14 bead head pheasant tail nymph
Size 14 quill Gordon
Parachute Madam-X Hopper
Olive Hares Ear
Griffith’s gnat – fished wet or dry and sometimes in large sizes (e.g., 10). The pattern seems to be successful at imitating a large variety of insects, including terrestrials, such as ants.
The best fly’s are ones that no one has heard of. They are hatched somewhere in the back of my mind catch fish and have my friends and family begging for the fly. So in answer the question what two fly’s are best?
The ones with no names.
Must be a Matt thing! I agree best flies are ones that hatch out of must match the hatch and what my mind comes up with. And without fail you better tie up a dozen of them, ur family is gong to want them! My answer to what flies are best?
The names that my family comes up with after they use them and they become their confidence flies.
size 18 bh peasant tail
elk hair caddis
#14-16 Parachute Adams
Pat’s Rubber Legs (black)
#16 Copper John
Size 20 Poison Tung in blue, or red
Nymph:
#16-18 Flashback Pheasant tail
Dry:
#16 Sparkle Dunn
Size 16 parachute Adams in Gray and a San Juan worm.
I feel confident fishing a peacock herl and partridge soft hackle