Can't deny what you point out... although I love to romanticize. Maybe it's because for every time the chrome one makes a wake across the pool to hit my fly, a thousand have not so much as swiveled their eye at my very best offerings. Somewhere in the void between those two extremes is the impetus for today's steelhead fly culture, a more practical rennaisance of the gaudy salmon days of old. As a recent evacuation victim from the PNW, I now know that the magic behind steely fly experimentation is having a stream to swing them on. Thank heavens for the internet, the streams feel almost within reach!
Enough waxing, I'll put up a recipe and a scan of my prawn this weekend (for what it's worth!) Here's one in the jaw of a Snoqualmie chromer...
Well, you can't see the fly but you can see the pink tone of the Scintilla dubbing.