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Dry Fly Only ?

11K views 34 replies 23 participants last post by  PISQUE1969 
#1 ·
Are their any dry fly only fishermen left?


Growing up trout fishing in the NYS Catskill region rivers and Northern NJ 40 years ago there were a number of dry fly only fisherman. These older gentlemen would not fly fish unless conditions were right for dry fly on the trout streams.

Actually I was like that for a few years, then became a wet fly and nymph fisherman. Still love the dry fly when conditions are right. Nothing like matching the hatch and working a pool picking off all of the active risers.

Wondering if there are any true purist dry fly fisherman still around?

You can personal message me if you prefer. Doubt if there will be many postiive responses.
 
#27 ·
Dries...well not only but preferred!

I will fish a dry fly on a trout stream all the time if I can. If the water is over 60 degrees and nothing is showing I will fish a dry fly as a searcher. Trout will come up more than you think.
In saltwater, where I do most of my fishing now, I loooooovvve to fish poppers. Imagine the sound when a striper over 10 pounds sucks it in! Pretty impressive.
 
#28 ·
I, too, am one who fishes dry flies exclusively. My favorite place to fish is the Harriman State Park on the Henry's Fork. My current favorite rods are a Winston 9' 4wt DL4 wearing a Ross Evolution #2 loaded with SA Mastery Trout Taper WF-4-F, a Winston 8' 3wt WT that wears a Tibor Spring Creek CL loaded with SA Mastery Trout Taper WF-3-F and a Winston 8'6" 4wt WT that wears a Lamson Litespeed 1 loaded with Rio Selective Trout WF-4-F.
 
#29 ·
WOW!

Seattlesetters,

This is a thread from a long time ago. Glad you brought it back up because I'm thinking more about dry fly fishing as winter steelhead fishing is getting harder and harder to do. It's funny we have not heard from PM Flyfisher in a long time, hope he is doing well wherever he is.

For the last few weeks I've been thinking of Spring in Wyoming on my daughters ranch. A certain river is near by and it has truely huge trout that sip. I keep thinking about walking the bank, stoping sitting for awhile watching the slowly moving weed beds in crystal clear water around the springs. Swallows flying overhead indicating that a hatch is just about to start, how do they know? Green grass along the banks and the milk weed and nettles not high enough yet to have to watch that one and only false cast you get. A good cigar to ponder on all that is begining to take place a pair of good shades to cut the mind glare.

This year I will take my 3 year old grandson for a walk along the river. All he talks about is fishing for sunfish in the ranch pond but I will show him something new. He will not need to fish the river for another 3 years or so but he should know about what's there and think about it often before he fall asleep at night. If he wants a cigar I will have to say no but how do you say no to your grandson, I'll give him a puff or two if he won't tell his mom. ;)
OC
 
#30 ·
Dry only fly fishing is a dyeing religion. There are some of us youngsters, versed in its ways, but the faith is not as strong as it once was. My granfather was one of the great priests of this failing faith. I remember, as a child, not more than 5, fishing on Mission lake, in Montana. The air was brisk, and for me, the young acolite, barely congnicent of the teaching I was recieving, was more interested in chacing young ducks through the reeds, than fishing.

My grandfather, on the other hand, cared for nothing but the dance. He was a magician with the rod. He would take his magic wand in hand, and make it dance to each command. A fish would rise, and with barely any effort, as if by will alone, his fly would float, low across the water, and land near the center of the bullseye left by the expanding riffles. The fish would rise again, his rod would ark, and the ballet would begin.

After a while, chacing birds through the bursh didn't hold my attention any more. I was captivated by the scene before me. He began to teach me. I was not big enough at the time, to cast for myslef, but I could learn where to place the fly, and how to retrieve it. I cought the first fish I can remember, on that lake, dragging back a fly that had been cast for me. A 10# 11 3/4 oz rainbow. It took me nearly twenty minutes to land the fish, and once I did, I was as exhausted as he, but from then on, I was as hooked as that fish.


My learning, under his tutalage, began then. He tried to teach me what he knew, from tieing flies to catching fish. He tied nymphs for me, and he usually carried one or two; a hare's ear here, or bever caddis there, but I can't recall seeing him tie one on. It was if he needed the temptation to resist, to prove his commitment. I do remember once or twice, seeing him fish nymphs. He would greese them up with a foul smelling paste he carried, and fish them dry. (I've never seen a hairs ear produce, like it can top water.) I learned what I could, but never became a fly fisherman. I liked to tie flys, but didn't have the patience for fly fishing. We fished often, but I don't recall anyone ever catching more fish than he did on any of our trips. It was amazing what nearly a century of experience had tought the man.

At 10, my family left our home in Northern Montana, but he, at 93, was to old, and too stubborn to follow. He still practiced his religion. The Flathead, the Milk, the Blackfoot, and Marias were his church. Over the next fouryears, Now and then, we would visit, and he would teach me as best he could. It wasn't until then, that I was willing to learn, and I studied eagerly under his care. I hooked myself more often than I hooked a fish, but I tried, and he was patient with his student. I would hear from time to time, of how his trips to reiceve his sacriments went, and hear the family complain about his disappearing into the hills. They worried he would hurt himslef, but I knew it was the practice of this faith that sustained him.

At 96, his eyes, and his helth were failing. He didn't stop at a stop sign, and had a minor accident. It was this accident, I am convinced, that killed him, not the kidney falior that ultimately took him just short of the beginning 99th year. They took his license, and thus cut him from his communion. Excommunicated, by an act of law, his mind went quicly, but the body lingered.

I remember visiting him once, shortly before the end. They had put a large plastic pool on the grounds, and stocked it with fish from a hatchery. They tied flies to ice fishing polls, and let the geezers loose. For a while, he was himself again. He cought a fish or two on a deer hair hopper. He talked for a while, and then went back to his room. I know it wasn't the same, but I think it was what he needed. A last rights of sorts, for a man of his faith.

I don't keep the traditions, as he did. I often sin, and toss a nymph to a riffle behind a rock, when there is no hatch to match. I don't have the patience I should, and I still lack about 55 years of learning, to be the sage he was, but I make an effort. Perhpas some say, I will re-discover the old religion, and I can teach my own children or grandchildren the way, as I take my communion, on the Blackfoot, or the Flathead, or the Marias. I can always hope.
 
#31 ·
I was pretty much a dry fly and streamer only guy until a couple of years ago. I went on a summer fishing trip up to the North Maine Woods when the fish were all deep in the holes in the streams and dry flies wouldn't get you anything. So I fished nymphs for the first time. Since then, I've found myself using nymphs more and more.

There's just something about watching a trout rise up and hit your dry fly that's really incredible. I always liked streamer fishing too since it's really a challenge to imitate how a baitfish would behave in the current of a stream.
 
#32 ·
being very new to the fly fishing scene, i was first introduced to dry flys last year and i have never tried anything other than dry flys. but i am sure this season i will get the chance to try something different, but i am a sucker for that top water action IMO.
 
#33 ·
Everyone makes their own rules and has their priorities. I have the most respect for the angler that has mastered the most techniques, casts and species. If they are still having fun and sharing their passion, they are at the top of the heap.

"Gee Mister, what are you gettin' em' on?", the new fisherman asks.
The dryfly only angler looks down on the boy and taps the ash out of his pipe, "A good drift."
"Thanks Mister."
 
#35 ·
Are their any dry fly only fishermen left?


Growing up trout fishing in the NYS Catskill region rivers and Northern NJ 40 years ago there were a number of dry fly only fisherman. These older gentlemen would not fly fish unless conditions were right for dry fly on the trout streams.

Actually I was like that for a few years, then became a wet fly and nymph fisherman. Still love the dry fly when conditions are right. Nothing like matching the hatch and working a pool picking off all of the active risers.

Wondering if there are any true purist dry fly fisherman still around?

You can personal message me if you prefer. Doubt if there will be many postiive responses.
I am a "purist", dry-fly fisherman.

I like the absolute thrill of a fish rising to suck in a properly floating fly.

Been out of fishing for a while and I am now pursuing the sport. Would like to dispense with my barbless hooks into a hook that will allow for the strike and a very momentary tug, lasting a second or two ... I like the thrill of the initial strike ... unless I'm hungry, then I use more typical hooks.

I don't find fighting a fish to exhaustion, while ripping a hole through it's mouth, just for a thrill very satisfying ...
 
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