A few weeks ago, not long after the start of last year's trout season, I stole a few hours from the demons of commerce and drove south to a river where, I'd heard, the Hendricksons, an early season mayfly, were hatching.
It was blustery and cold and when my friend Harry Rockwood and I drove up to the river, it was already mid-afternoon. Gusts of wind slipped down the valley and riffled the surface of the water of a pool in front of us. Harry was ready to fish first and reported from the river, "Come over here and look at the bugs. Hendricksons all over."
I watched Harry fish for a while, grim-faced and casting upstream into a nuisance wind, and walked upstream. I passed a couple other fly fishers, one of whom I knew, and made my way upstream into the shelter of high limestone cliffs.
The trees around me were leafless and gray but small sproutings of grasses and clusters of tiny blue spring flowers made me feel warm and hopeful and I looked over the water for Hendricksons. Every so often, one would leave the water, but whatever intensity the hatch had had a few hours before was clearly dissipated.
In years past, I've found nymphs of the Ephemerella subvaria (the Hendrickson) in moderately fast runs and, of course, that's where you expect to find the duns during an emergence. I waded to the edge of a run where the water was a couple feet deep and fast.
Even though there were few flies hatching so late that afternoon, the fish had remained where they'd been feeding earlier and were on the prowl. I caught several. Harry had the same experience downstream. Cast over the runs where you'd expect the trout to be during a hatch and you'd catch fish.
When I started to learn about fly fishing for trout, I had my heroes. In those days, some two decades ago, our gurus were, in retrospect, pretty ordinary-bright men and women who had figured out that how and when trout feed is pretty predictable. You had to know what to look for and when to be there.
The hatching of aquatic insects influence the feeding behavior of trout, or any other gamefish that feed on them. The more insects available to the fish, the more intensely they'll feed. And, the more you know about aquatic insects and how and when that feeding occurs, the more fish you'll catch.
Here's a behind-the-scene look at the Hendrickson adventure I described to you earlier. When I knew that I might be able to find time to fish that week, I called Wayne Bartz, Midwest Fly Fishing's fly tying columnist who lives near the river I wanted to fish and asked him what the fishing had been like recently.
"There have been Hendricksons," he said, "about noon and they last until mid-day and then there might be some spinners (mayflies that have mated, then return to the river to lay eggs and die). The South Branch has been pretty good. I fished there a couple days ago."
By the time Harry and I headed out that day, we knew most of what we needed to know to fish successfully. First, we knew which river to go to-a river that had a history of Hendrickson hatches and one that had been fishing well. Second, we knew which stretch of water the Hendricksons would be hatching from and when.
We also knew, both of us from our reading and from our experience fishing the hatch, that Hendricksons hatch most profusely on cloudy, cool days (which it was). We also had brought with us appropriate flies to represent the Hendrickson during its actual emergence-Hare's Ear nymphs and emergers to fish below the surface and # 14 and #16 Adams and parachute-style patterns to fish on the surface of the water, representing the duns.
Even though, as I mentioned earlier, there were few duns (adult mayflies-in this case Hendricksons) on the water, I caught at least 20 brown trout in a couple hours of fishing that afternoon and Harry, who fishes less frenetically, caught a dozen.
Reports on the fishing on that river the next day were revealing. Fly shops in my home city were describing less than successful outings because of the weather (ideal, except for the wind, for Hendricksons) and sporadic hatching (which didn't seem to make any difference if you stayed in the water and fished hard over areas where the Hendricksons lived).
It's all what you know and when you go."