Fishing with “flies” traces its origins back to the ancient Greeks, who would catch “fish with speckled skins” using hooks dressed with crimson wool and wax-colored feathers from a rooster’s neck. Since these humble beginnings, the art of fly tying has evolved into a hobby all its own.
In the 1800s, explorers filled the museums and zoos of Europe with colorful bird species from around the world, such as the king bird of paradise of Indonesia with its bright red feathers and the resplendent quetzal of Central America. In addition to the scientific world, their brightly colored plumage caught the eye of fly tiers, who used their feathers to create complex and beautiful flies, sometimes incorporating the feathers of more than a dozen different birds in a single fly. Scottish fly tier Jock Scott, for example, tied his namesake fly using the feathers of toucan, macaw, Indian crow, and more. These vintage flies are considered collectors’ items, often selling for hundreds of dollars each — not the kind of investment you want to see destroyed in the maw of a trout or salmon, no matter how nice the catch might be.
While tying ornate flies with exotic feathers was a pastime of the well-to-do in Europe, a distinctly more democratic version of fly tying evolved in the Catskills and Adirondacks of the northeastern United States. These practical flies used drab-colored fur for bodies, feathers tied in an upright position to imitate the wings of a bug, and wraps of hackle to make them float and give an impression of wiggling legs. These patterns, which predominate today, relied on common materials readily available to the average angler, consistent with the U.S. ideal that fishing is not limited to the aristocracy.
There are now fly patterns for every conceivable bug in every size, shape, and color imaginable. A fly doesn’t have to be a perfect imitation to catch fish. Take the Copper John, a favorite here in the Rocky Mountain region, which consists of a split tail of goose biots (pointy little feathers taken from the leading edge of the wing of a goose), a body of wrapped copper wire, a thorax made of green ostrich herl, a dab of hard epoxy covering a plastic strip on the back to give it some flash, and a shiny bead head. It takes forever to tie and looks more like something you would read about in a sci-fi novel than anything you would find in the natural environment. But the size and shape resemble a little bit of everything and nothing at all, making it irresistible to trout.
There is something special about catching a fish with a fly, especially one you tied yourself; it adds a whole new dimension to the art of fly-fishing. If you want to add a new twist to your fly-fishing experience, take a class or buy a book and try tying a fly of your own. Who knows — you might catch the fish of a lifetime.
Author: Craig Johnson is CREA’s director of policy and strategy/general counsel, and an avid fly-fisher and outdoorsman in his spare time.
