Can one think too much about mousing for trout? Maybe. If it is possible, I'd be more than guilty. As I spend most of my time mousing nocturnally, and the visual aspects are not the same as daytime, it has made understanding night-time trout behavior a slow process. To add to the difficulty, trout in different locations and different times of year behave differently enough that on more than one occasion I have been forced to question the meaning of life... or just my current tactic. I kid, but seriously, what else does one do when casting and retrieving in the solitude of the stars. And, just when I think I am starting to figure things out, some new idea or view comes to my attention. It's quite the process, but I love it.
Along this journey of piscatorial exploration fly patterns are like way-points. People who prefer to tie and fish their own patterns rarely stick with a particular pattern indefinitely. This may even be the case when a fly has proven effective. As new patterns emerge, those left behind serve as tangible glimpses into their designer's past. Many fail to see it, but both the tyer, and often their close friends recognize the memories held in one little fly. I see some of my own history through those little creations. It's a history of learning, and I often find myself wanting to tell people that "I used to tie it that way, but now I do it this way." When that urge arises, I often want to include accompanying explanations as to whys.
Well, here I am again, doing just that.
This post --> Mousing: The hookup problem is a precursor to this post, and pattern. It presents some of the problems faced when mousing at night, many of which I try to address with this pattern.
Fly Tying: The Ichabod Artimouse
Fortunately, the Ichabod Artimouse is a relatively simple pattern to tie. Unfortunately, that does not make it a fast fly to tie. The following is a list of what you will need to tie one up. Ingredients: Hooks
-Size 2/0, Gamakatsu Fine Wire Worm Hook
-Size 4, Gamakatsu B10S Stinger Hook
-Size 1/0 Matzuo Baitholder Offset Straight Eye Hook (you could use a wire shank here) Head
-Foam head (old/cheap flip flop, large double barrel popper head, foam shop mat, or layered foam)
-Tube fly tubing (clear pen tube with a pipe cleaner, or any other sturdy fly tube)
-2 or 3mm foam sheet
-UV Glue Body
-Yarn Bee Gilt Eyelash Yarn (I use black when using this material) OR -Rabbit Strip, like the original Artimouse (whichever color you prefer)
-Ice Dubbing (again, I use black for my night pattern, but you could definitely mix it up. A bright color may even somewhat resemble the classic Hemorrhoidal Mouse if put in the right area) Legs
-Medium Round Rubber Legs (I prefer medium because when furled, the knots usually hold. The larger doesn't without a speck of super glue) (whichever color you prefer) Tail
-Rabbit Strip (for this pattern, I used black, but you can mix it up)
The two following videos are both tutorials for the mouse pattern, but the first is a very succinct version, for those who just want that. The second is longer, and has much more commentary on the different parts. After the videos, I have included the reasons why I came up with the pattern in the first place.
When I first shared the Artimouse, it was fascinating to behold the changes that occurred in the world of mousing for trout. I've noted many people and patterns influenced, many of which I'm sure have no clue. That's just the nature of the internet. Now I see angled, large foam floating heads, and furled legs on mouse patterns all over. It's cool to see such a ripple effect and I definitely love seeing the resulting beautiful fish from people using the pattern. People all over have since added their tweaks and personalized parts, which has also been fun to witness. But, I digress, so, back to the main idea. If the original Artimouse works, why change anything? I'm so glad you asked. The following video addresses the topic.
This post is a precursor to my new artimouse pattern. It has been affectionately dubbed the "Ichabod Artimouse". Its creation was to try and deal with some of these issues. Now, let's get nerdy.
Hookups and mousing sometimes feel like antonyms. It's as if they are the same poles of two magnets that we try to force together. For anyone who has dedicated time to mousing at night, they can attest to the low hookup to blowup ratio. This is not based on any scientific studies, but my experience leads me to say that in general only about 20-30% of mouse-takes at night result in a hookup. This number varies some according to location, retrieval direction and type, timing and speed of the set, size of fish, and the fly being used. I have had magical nights where everything fell into place and my hookup to miss ratio was much greater, but as a rule, I hook far less fish than I hear or see splash at my fly. But, why?
It is an issue that has been swimming around in the cerebral juices of my mind for the past few years. It does not help that the questions only multiply with added contemplation. Is it just part of mousing, and as such, is an un-fixable problem that mousers must live with? How often are real mice missed in the wild? Is it all about retrieve and set style, or can fly design alter the outcome? Where to begin?
Problem #1 - Messy Takes
First and foremost, a mouse swimming in the water is a potential thanksgiving meal for an ambitious trout. The protein payoff is great, but the effort required to engulf and swallow such a large offering hardly matches the effort it takes to sip a small caddis. The angle of the take is a bit more vertical than a regular rise, as is evident by the toilet bowl flush/splash sound one hears in the darkness of night. It is usually violent. A fish that has committed to eating a poor amphibious mouse is out to kill, to drown, and often to eat. It's not pretty, and it's not clean cut. I think the fish that we hook are those who opt to eat their quarry whole and living, without the fear of being prey themselves. I guess we could call them raptor browns (think Jurassic Park raptors). With this carnal energy, combined with the angle of attack, it is not always easy for a trout to connect with the target. Items floating amid the waters surface tension act/react differently from items that are fully submerged. One moves out of the way easier than the other. It's worth thinking about. We can actually witness this whole messy take phenomenon in the following clip:
The fly is pushed out of the way, whereas if the same fly were subsurface it would be less likely to be pushed out of the way. I think this air-ball effect is often what is happening in the darkness of night, where both human and fish cannot see as well. We just aren't able to witness the fumbles visually. This brings up more questions. Does a smaller fly produce more hookups, or does a larger pattern?
Problem #2 - The Drowning Tail
This issue may well have been placed with the previous, but recent discovery of this video illustrated it so well that I thought I should give it separate attention. Often browns, especially those in slower waters, will try to drown the fly before consuming it. Often the tail is used as the tool. This also results in a very loud splashy noise, and if you are fishing in the dark of night, it's hard to tell the difference between a mouth-take and a tail-slap. So, naturally, we set on these tail-takes. We often feel the fish, but set only to find absolutely no resulting pressure. Because of this behavior, it can be very effective to cast the fly right back to where you felt the set, and let it linger there for a moment, occasionally adding very minute tremulous movements. The attacker may simply be hunting around in the darkness to find it's drowned victim. The following is a video that demonstrates this behavior exceptionally well.
Problem #3 - Big Fly, Little Fly
Flies, both big and little miss fish. Each has their strengths and weaknesses. To be honest, I'm still not decided on the matter. Small flies can certainly fit into a gaping brown trout kype with greater ease, and may leave hooks more exposed with the lesser amount of material used, but the target is harder to see (especially at night) and draws less attention in disturbed water. Smaller patterns can also be easier and less tiring to cast, but are also easier to push aside during an up-swelling take.
Larger patterns are easier to see in the dark, push more water, and can draw more attention. If they are articulated, their attraction factor increases with the extra jointed movement. This can add to the appeal and realism of the offering. In some circumstances I have done better with smaller patterns, but in my experience, this has only been evident when it is smaller fish doing the taking. Larger flies that hold more water are less easily pushed out of the way, but the fish has to hit it at the right angle, as there is more to fit into the mouth. They can also be more difficult to cast with the greater wind resistance. I always start out with an artimouse type fly simply because it is my confidence pattern, and has proven itself again and again.
Problem #4 - Hook Placement and Type
With a larger pattern, where it presents an option, it seems that fish either go straight for the head, or nip the butt, or sometimes the tail of the fly. If the fly is presented right, in relation to how a fish is oriented in the current, the fish T-bones the fly (the best scenario for hookup in my opinion). Because fish generally go for the head or butt of the fly, hook placement can be the difference between a fishless night or one spent tussling with trout. If the hook is too far back (at the end of the tail), you can snag the fish, if it is too far forward, it doesn't usually stick. I'm not opposed to placing a hook at the end of the tail, but I rarely choose to do so. This is not for lack of experiementing and trying. If it has worked for you, cool beans, keep it up. Another issue with stinger hook placement is distance between the two hooks. Place them too close together, and it can cut your hook penetration power in half (much like a bed of nails distributes and lessens the pressure of any individual nail). I have found great success with only using the stinger hook (I prefer mine just after the butt of the fly). I think clipping off the front hook can not only maintain the available pressure/force, but also allow more momentum to build before the hook makes contact, which can result in greater penetration. Gotta love physics.
One issue that a friend of mine brought to my attention, in regards to stinger hooks was the way they behaved due to their design. With a stinger hook, if it has a short shank, the hook can easily turn away from the thing you are trying to stick it into. The eye of the hook, being closer to the bend of the hook, allows more movement away from the intended target. Also, the angle of the eye sets the hook point further out of the way. For this reason, I now place some tubing on my regular octopus stingers to keep the hook exposed and in the line of duty. Or, I simply use a longer shank-ed, straight-eyed hook. Because these are difficult concepts to explain and visualize, I created the following video:
One more thing that can reduce hookups has to do with the size of the hook itself. People often tie mouse flies on larger diameter wire hooks. The finer the wire of hook, the easier the penetration. I think misses and lost fish can occasionally be attributed to this factor. I prefer my hooks super sharp and my wire fine.
Problem #5 - Fly Mass
No matter what kind, or how much material you put into a mouse fly, it will not match the mass of the real deal. A real flesh and blood mouse has a greater mass, and therefore, is not moved or pushed away from the trouts mouth as easily as an imitation. I suppose we could make a pattern that weighed as much, but no one would want to cast it. Maybe I would on a spinning rod, but on a fly rod the thought isn't at all appealing. This is one area it is difficult to address with a fly. I often wonder how much it affects the outcome. Larger flies or materials that retain water may be less susceptible to this problem.
Problem #6 - Big Fly Heads
Fish commonly go for the head of a fly. Sometimes having a large foam, cork, or deer hair head can prevent the hookup. The fish often get the fly in their mouths, tension is felt, the angler sets, and then the fly comes flying back at the angler, without the fish in tow. Here is what I think is happening. Once the tension is felt and the angler sets, the big head forces the fishes mouth open. The jaw pops open because there is so much force placed on the fly and the fish doesn't have time to clamp back down on the hooks, which follow right behind the fly's head. I think this is one reason some anglers prefer the smaller flies. A smaller pattern usually has a small enough profiled head so as to not impede the hookset. With the bigger patterns, I think this downfall can be, at least partly, overcome by proper timing on a set.
Another problem with large foam heads is the water resistance they have. It's like attaching a large thingamabobber an inch or so from your hook. There's bound to be issues with the hookup and fight. I see three obvious problems it presents.
Firstly, when a fish takes the fly, the angler has to set hard enough to force the hook into the fishes lip. The force necessary is magnified considering the angler is pulling a chunk of foam through the water as well. The big head's ability to push water makes the mouse pretty irresistible to fish, but it adds a degree of difficulty in setting the hook. Two edged sword I suppose.
Secondly, water resistance and a large foam head also, in some cases, I think, cause the hook to work out once the fish is hooked. When a fish is thrashing around under water, the head has buoyancy force pushing it upward, making it want to float, as well as the force pushing it in the back and forth water resistance. It's no wonder it can pop out during the fight.
Third, and lastly, some sensitivity is lost. When a fish comes up and takes the fly from anywhere but the head, the fish must pull against the floating head for the angler to even feel something. Not all mouse takes at night are loud and splashy, in fact, I think the bigger the fish the less splashy and noisy a take is. If a big fish "sips" in your fly by the butt end, you aren't likely to even notice, and by the time you move to set, the fish has already let go.
These are some of the primary issues I have tried to address with my most recent mouse pattern, the Ichabod Artimouse (Ichabod Arti for short). Its tying tutorial will be put up shortly after this post.
Problem #7 - Setting Struggles (Timing)
On multiple occasions, I have found myself mousing right alongside a friend. One is hooking fish and the other is struggling to connect. Both fishing the same fly. Both fishing the same water. Both getting takes. Only one connecting. The difference? At least in part, it is the timing of the set. I once heard that in New Zealand, guides encourage their clients to say "God save the queen" before setting on their dryfly takes. This is to allow the fish to turn away, causing the line and in turn the hook to press against the fishes lip, so as to increase the chance of connecting with the hook. I have tried applying the technique to my mousing, and it makes all the difference. I used to be a big proponent for only setting once you feel tension. I have since changed my opinion of the matter. I now treat my mousing takes like a big fish dry fly take. Listen to the take, wait a moment for the fish to turn, then strip set hard (I often also add a rod set to this action). On one trip this year with a friend, who was in the exact same scenario I mentioned a moment ago, he finally got the extra pause down, and proceeded to hook up and land fish the rest of the night.
I think sometimes anglers think a fly does not work because they are struggling to hook a fish. They sometimes switch to a different mouse pattern and start having more success. There is nothing wrong with this, but I think the change in fly is more successful because it better matches that individual's technique rather than the fly itself being any more or less effective. Cast, retrieve, and even setting are all affected by the patterns we choose to fish. Go with your confidence fly, but remember there is always more to learn with other patterns, which leads me to the last problem.
Problem #8 - Impatience
Sometimes all we want to do is catch fish. I often find myself gravitating toward the places I have already known success. But, I also know the gratification of fishless nights of discovery and learning. Sometimes I want one, and sometimes I crave the other. Success is always sweeter with the latter. It is earned, and I always come away wiser and with more ideas. People don't have to enjoy the same things, or approach them the same as myself. I'm grateful that most do not, despite my liberal giving of information. For those who are interested in having more success with mousing, to you I say, do not give up. Limit yourself to only fishing one mouse pattern for the whole night. Try it for a whole day even. And don't give up on a specific location. Try it from different angles, different water levels/time of year, and with different retrieves. I have fished the same waters that others have pounded to death, only to find success from approaching it differently. If you keep getting blowups, but aren't getting it to connect, try slowing your retrieve down, waiting longer after the take, or set even when you don't feel tension. Success will always be hidden from the impatient, both in mousing and in life.
Final Thoughts
No matter what an angler does or fishes differently, I still think there will be plenty of missed fish, especially when chucking a mouse at night. Much of the missing, I think, is the nature of the beast. We anglers miss plenty of fish even in broad daylight. But, just like during the day, we can make adjustments to our technique and our gear to increase our odds. Once an angler gets these things in line, I'd dare say the hookup rate improves to around 80%, and 80% is a pretty epic night of mousing.
How boring would our sport be, if there were not room to do things differently, to learn from our experiences, and to explore new ideas. I'm thankful the only thing keeping me from making more of my experiences is myself.
I wanted to take a moment and share a few things I have learned, or that have been reinforced over the past year concerning mousing for trout. I mostly fish mice at night, and I primarily target brown trout, so that may be something to take into consideration with the following rambling.
Trying It
The first thing I always tell someone when they are looking into mousing for trout, is to simply do it. It seems redundant, but I cannot emphasize this enough. When I first transitioned to fly fishing I had a hard time leaving the spinning rod and garden hackle at home. The doubt I had in my fly fishing potential pushed me to lean on my old ways, and they became a crutch, crippling my growth. It wasn't until the day I convinced myself to leave the old gear home that I started to see how it had held me back, and distracted my focus from where it needed to be in order find improvement with the alternative method. I remember going through the same process with steelheading. I knew I could catch them with the good old bait-caster. Even then it was sometimes a trial. It took time, but eventually I made the transition. That doesn't mean I don't use spinning rods anymore, but when I do it is not from a lack of confidence like it used to be. I went through the same process with streamers and European nymphing. The moral of the story is, sometimes we have to leave the things that keep us from growing behind. In the case of mousing, that may mean leaving all our other flies at home, and only taking the mouse pattern or patterns we have chosen to experiment with. The risk is that nothing may be caught, but by the end of the day, or night, we will have a much better feel of how our flies look in the water, and how they react to our retrieve.
Not everyone is willing to spend a whole day or night fishing and not catching, and that is okay. We are all at different stages in our angling, and one stage is not better than another. They're just different, and all are enjoyable for their own reasons. If these musings apply to you, cool, if not, don't sweat it.
Stripping
In previous articles I recommended stripping the line in slowly, trying to make the fly look and swim as natural as possible. In many cases I still feel this is most effective, but what this past year's mousing has taught me is that making a ruckus can really induce bites. The trick is to try multiple retrieves. I did really well with short chugs, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, and found that in one place one approach worked better, but on the same water, in a different location, another approach was better. I learned to mix it up, and not be afraid to make some noise with the fly. I also found that the more natural disturbance there is in the water (from current, wind, or rain) the more "noise" you have to make with the fly to get a fish's attention.
If you are primarily a pm mouser, I highly recommend a stripping basket. You're line will last much longer, and you will have far less frustration pulling your line out of tangled weeds. A DIY stripping basket tutorial is in the works. Still testing the one I put together to see if it's worth recommending.
Hook Set
Initially I said that in setting the hook you should wait till you feel the take. While you can't go wrong with this approach, over the past year I found that setting on the sound of a take sometimes produced a hookup. This leaves me to recommend that you do whatever the heck you want. Two things that I found helpful though, were waiting a moment when hearing the take before setting (in New Zealand I have heard they say "God save the Queen" before setting) and then doing a super strip set when it is time to do so. Be sure to close your eyes/wear eye protection/duck if this is your approach, and be ready to clean your line out of the bushes or hook into a monster.
I have done a lot of searching for a preferred pair of protective glasses, and gone through multiple pairs. One of the things I routinely struggled with is that most protective glasses have some degree of UV protection, which in the pitch black of night decreases the amount of light coming through to the eye. Finally I have found a pair that I really like, which do not have any UV, light reducing, coatings. They are the Head Impulse Protective Eyewear racquetball glasses. And they have a strap, which makes them easy to take them on and off, are comfortable (to me), and are only around $10.
Current Direction
This may not apply on other waters, but all those I fish have appeared sensitive to this. Knowing the down stream current direction matters in the moving waters I fish, even with slow current. I still have found it true that a fish is 95% (Abraham Lincoln said this percentage was accurate, and that the internet tells only truth) more likely to take a mouse if it is moving the direction of the current, not against it. Unless you're in Alaska, or some other place where this doesn't apply, then all bets are off. Maybe just pay attention to which direction you are bringing your fly when you get your strikes more, or if you don't seem to be getting any strikes, try approaching the water from downstream moving up.
Also, with current direction, I have found my hookup rate is much higher when I present the fly so the fish hits it from the side, in a perpendicular/T-bone direction. Often this just means I hook up more fishing from the side of the run, with a slight swing downward toward the end of the retrieve, or casting diagonally upstream or downstream, versus casting directly upstream or downstream. I think it is largely to do with how the fly goes into the fishes mouth, and what it does when the angler sets.
Hook Issues
Generally speaking the hookup rate when mousing seems to be about 20-30%. That means for every 10 takes, only 2 or 3 will stick, and even if those do, they don't always stay. I have my theory on why this is, which I'll address in a different post sometime, but with such low odds an angler wants to do everything he/she can to increase catch rates. Having a super sharp sticky hook is an obvious aspect to this, but what is less obvious is keeping that hook clear of fly tying material. A little bit of fur in the way is all it takes to prevent that sharp tip from doing it's little job of grabbing, and if it doesn't grab, there's nothing for the hook to penetrate into when we do our epic strip sets. To check this I place my fly in water long enough for it to absorb the water and move it around to check if fur is covering the hook. I then take scissors and trim the small parts that may be laying on the hook. I'm not positive this is a game changer, but I feel on some occasions it has prevented hookups before I noticed it.
In terms of which hook is more valuable in an articulated mouse fly, I feel the back hook takes the cake. AND, after extensive testing, I really feel that this back hook is best placed at the butt of the body of the fly, or just a bit (roughly half inch) behind it. Hooks in tails have not been at all effective for me, though this may just be from the wheres and how I fish. They also seem to tangle more than without.
Location location LOCATION!!!!!
The more time I spend mousing at night, the more I have come to realize that where you mouse is critical to your success. This could be general water, such as a particular river, lake, stream, or pond. It could also be where in any given body of water you are fishing. In my experience, the closer to cover you get, the better. Bushy trees that overhang the water are my favorite places to focus on, and mostly because I think fish hang out near them hoping for something to drop. The closer to the bank you can get, the better because that is where land-dwelling morsels originate. Also, foam lines/seams where things naturally are pushed in the water are an excellent place to focus on. These aspects of location are not without complications. The first location concept means that to find success, one has to explore, and risk having plenty of fishless nights. The second aspect of location is tricky because one cannot see the bank or tight spots in the dark, at least not in any great contrast so as to tell where the bank ends and water begins. The more you know your water during the day the better off you'll be at night. Timing also adds a tricky element to location. A place may not produce even a single blowup one night, but then be ridiculously productive two nights later. This could be a factor of light, hatches, water temperature, spawning times, etc. The fact of it all is that location is a critical part of mousing. The nice thing is that once your find a productive area, it tends to remain a productive area.
These aren't exactly earth-shattering tips or realizations, but some I thought worth mentioning. Good luck if you make it out to give it a try, and don't be afraid to dedicate a day (or night, though a night dedicated usually results in the following day dedicated to sleep, so same-diff right?) to it.
Learning to mouse for trout has been quite the experience. Like
fishing at any other time of day, there are so many factors that play
into it. Lighting, weather, temperature, time of year, water levels, and
location are just a few factors to reckon with. With so many factors
dancing about each other, it makes for a slow learning process. It's
funny how our outlooks or previously held ideas morph and change with
time and experience. Life is dynamic, with very few static elements. If
we aren't learning, we are only getting dumber. Needless to say, I
still have a lot to learn about mousing for trout. The following is a
concept that has slowly formed in my mind, and may not be entirely
accurate, but it seems correct so far. It may be helpful, but maybe not.
Here it is. I'm going to say it. Mousing for trout is a sham. A farce. Utter
foolery without Tom as the instigator. Mousing, as many of us have come
to think of it, is not in fact truly "mousing" with many of the
traditional mouse patterns we use.
Deception is the
basis of fly fishing, but that deception can go two ways. Normally we
try to fool the fish, but sometimes end up fooling ourselves in the
process. This doesn't necessarily lessen our enjoyment of angling, but I
think there is some benefit in realizing the distinction, which
pertains to mousing for trout. It may even change the flies you choose
to fish, or how you fish the ones you're already using.
In
life we often superimpose our ideas and views onto other people,
assuming they see things as we see them. We can't be blamed. All we have
to go on is our own perception of reality. Our whole world is viewed
through this personalized lens, even our fly fishing.
As
it pertains to fishing, things that look a certain way to us in our
out-of-the-water world, may look completely different to a fish in the
water. Full deer hair mouse patterns are notorious for this. They are
tied to look just like a mouse that is sitting still, out of the water,
eyes, whiskers, ears, and tail to match. An angler looks at one and
thinks, "man that looks just like a mouse," failing to ask themselves
what a mouse actually looks like in the water, and what parts of a
floating fly can actually be seen by a fish. The funny thing is that
people catch fish on these flies. Naturally, we assume a fish has taken
the fly as a mouse because it looked like a mouse to us out of the
water, before we even fished with it.
The Spectrum
In
fly fishing we often fish with "attractor" flies. These are patterns
that work because they have elements that resemble the real deals, or
just generate curiosity from the fish. Some examples could include:
Stimulator, Rainbow Warrior, Royal Wolf, Chubby Chernobyl, Chartreuse
Glo Bug, Purple Haze, and Parachute Adams. The list could go on and on.
Some of these patterns mimic profile, colors, movement, and water
displacement, while others have no similarity at all, and yet they all
still catch fish. Imagine a spectrum with one side labeled "natural" and
the other "attractor." All flies that are used, or have ever been used,
would fit somewhere on this spectrum. If we're being super literal, all
flies would be classified as attractors, but what I am referring to
moves beyond that assumption and allows flies to assume varying degrees.
Where a fly falls on our imaginary spectrum depends on what aspects of a
fly we choose to focus on. Factors that would cause a fly to move up
or down the scale could include color, movement, profile, or any other
specific trait. For example, a Parachute Adams is a common mayfly
imitation that most dry fly anglers are familiar with. It is remarkably
effective, but I doubt it is because its body color matches many real
mayflies. For body color I think the pattern would fall closer to the
"attractor" side of things, but for the profile it presents I would say
the pattern is closer to the "natural" end. Patterns like this are wonderful go-to's because they can mimic multiple insects. You just have to match the size.
I have come to
realize that some of the staple flies used while mousing fit better on
the "attractor" end of the spectrum. Full deer hair mouse flies, the
Morrish Mouse, or any other fairly short mouse pattern are examples of
this. The fact is that they work to catch fish, but I truly wonder what
the fish thinks it is rising to take. I doubt many baby mice fall into
rivers, and even if they did they would be small, skinny, and pink. I may be
wrong but most mice are at least two to three inches long (roughly three quarters length)
before they leave the nest and start exploring, which is generally when
they are about three weeks old. This length is referring to a
non-extended, walking, out-of-water mouse. A sitting mouse is even
shorter. The distinction is significant because when a mouse falls or
crawls into the water it instinctively begins "doggy paddling," which
causes the body to extend, adding more length to the profile.
Mouse flies that mimmic a "sitting" mouse, not a "swimming" mouse.
Most
of the original mouse patterns are shorter, stiff haired, and pellet or
"A" shaped. As I've already mentioned, these patterns work to catch
fish, but I have come to the opinion that most work because they tap
into some "knee jerk" reactions deeply embedded in a fishes' primal
nature. In the water a mouse is longer than shorter. I tend to think of deer hair patterns that move a decent amount
of water as better resembling frogs than mice. Their silhouette certainly better matches a frog kicking around. With the smaller "mouse" patterns I sometimes wonder if the fish aren't thinking they are rising to a giant caddis or other insect struggling in the water or skimming on the surface. The movement alone may induce a bite because the motion is similar to how an injured baitfish would act on the surface, even if the profile is different. I'm not sure the fish even
really cares what they represent. Just like most human beings would run
to an injured and abandoned crying baby, a fish will at least
investigate something struggling on the surface. For those who have
"moused" with the traditional patterns before, you may have noticed that
nighttime takes often occur shortly after the fly hits the water. For
these attractor mouse patterns it is all about the water they move and
the wake they make, and when something splashes in the water it
instantly kicks the fish into "easy-big-meal mode." I think a bass/frog
popper would get the same results in many cases. Heck, we catch fish
skating streamers, leeches, and even rubber-legs, many of which work
when waked upstream, against a swift current. Nothing in nature does
that! The only thing I can think of that comes close is a caddis laying
eggs.
The Lie
Much
of what we call "mousing" is a farce then. Just because we call a fly
something, and it catches fish, does not mean the reason it is catching
fish is because it resembles the real deal. Our powerful human brains
can fill in the gaps between suggestion. We dream, we philosophize, our
brains make sense of flawed information, we assume, and we deduce, and
what do fish do, they eat, runaway, and reproduce. Now, #fishlivesmatter
too, so don't be offended, and that's why we #keepemwet, but the fact
is that a fishes' reasoning is very basic and primitive.
In
the end, most mouse flies fool fisherman and fish, but not in the same
way. One thinks it's a mouse, while the other eats something that is
moving.
Why It Matters
So,
what is the take-home message here? Well, there are a few things we can
gain from this observation. First of all, I think it opens up our
thinking so that we can focus on one of the key elements of
topwater-trouting; water movement. Second of all, if you want to catch a
fish and say you caught it on a mouse, fish a pattern that at least
resembles a mouse to the fish (old, long held ideas die hard). Either
add some body length to those age old patterns so it more accurately
fits a mouses' profile, or fish one of the newer articulated patterns
that are cropping up more and more now that people are paying more
attention to what a mouse actually looks like in the water. Thirdly,
realize that confidence has more to do with fly fishing than the "right
fly" in a lot of cases. And lastly, get creative. I really think we
could have some fun developing crazy "attractor" patterns to fish at
night, ones that focus more on increasing hookups, or adding crazy
movement.
I'm not trying to rag on anyone who feels they
have caught a fish with a "mouse." More than anything I am pointing out
an area in fly fishing where we are progressing in terms of
understanding and fly design. If you are doing something that is working
for you, by all means keep doing it and keep enjoying it. In the end,
all we fishermen are fooling ourselves, telling lies and making up
stories, but isn't that part of the fun. Sometimes it causes me to
wonder though, between the angler and the fish, who is fooling who.
