Tips: Feed The Mend

Water is filled with power. Immense potential just waiting to get the kinetic party started. To be frank, it scares me. It always has, despite my love of being around it, and has created a healthy respect. Sometimes the power is hard to see, especially on calm waters. But, try forcing that water through unyielding canyon walls or down into cascading craggy pockets. The frothing foam begins to resemble the seething slobber of an angry pitbull.

Physics makes a better friend than enemy. We fishermen deal with physics on a regular basis, even if we aren't aware of it. Forces and energy are always at work, heeded or not. Setting the hook too abruptly can rip the hook from a fish's mouth. Not setting hard enough won't transfer enough force to drive the hook into place. Pulling too hard can break tippets, bend hooks, and even snap rods. Wading upriver against the force of the water is a chore, if not impossible in some situations. Learning to befriend and work with the physics at work is a great way to become a better angler. Understanding the mechanics of casting, setting the hook, and using the rod to fight the fish will result in saved gear and more fish landed.

So much of fly fishing is conceptualization. Often artists picture an image in their mind before even taking a single brush stroke. On top of that, learning to use their brushes allows them to better bring their mental creations into existence.

Casting, mending, setting the hook, and fighting fish are only few aspects of our art, but visualizing the underlying mechanics and then learning to work with them adds to the result and beauty of the whole experience.

It is said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. If that is the case, there are a lot of insane fishermen out there. The problem is, we learn by trial and error. Unfortunately, it is easy to develop a "working" technique that does enough to catch some fish, which causes us to become complacent and unwilling to stretch. It always comes back to the 80/20 (80% of the fish are caught by 20% of the anglers).  The real satisfaction comes when we work for it, and that means practice and trying to understand the underlying theory. This doesn't mean we have to go fishing all the time. It just means that we explore and improve in the time we have. Who knows, you might find yourself catching more and better fish because of it.

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Feed the Mend
 
Casting is hungry work. What better way to satiate that hunger than to feed the mend. Mending is part of the casting process, often done just after the initial cast, but other times done simultaneously. The idea is to keep the fly in the optimal zone as long as possible once the cast places it there. Mending prolongs the presentation. It takes practice and can be quite frustrating at times. Different lines and rods mend differently. Wind or fast moving water can add to the struggle.


There may be a more technical or regularly used term for this tip, but since I learned the principle through experience I will refer to it as "feeding the mend." This applies to the mend that is done post initial cast.

Picture yourself having just made a diagonal cast upstream to begin the drift. A second after the current grabs the line and begins hustling it down river is when most guys throw in a first mend. Once the line is straight in front of the angler or just a bit downriver from him is when the second mend is often placed. In both instances, a common problem we run into is that by mending the fly/indicator/line is pulled from it's prime landing spot. So how to fix this? Feed the mend.

It's a simple trick really, and maybe most people do it already, but I was slow to catch on. The idea is that as the line is pulled up and rolled over for the mend, you let some additional line out. It has to happen as the mend is occurring though, mid-mend if you will.  This will allow the mend to occur by taking line from you, rather than pulling the fly-tipped end back and out of the zone.  I usually let my line go as I mend so it can take as much as it needs.  The extra line you let out can quickly be recovered as the drift continues, allowing you to retain your hook-setablity.  Applying this simple little tip will let your nymph or dry or even swung streamer to stay in place far longer, which will result in more hookups. It takes practice, but is well worth the effort. Give it a try.

Mousing For Trout: An enlightening lie

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.

Tips: Movement

Movement is a principle of life. Stagnation yields disease and decay. Movement means growth, organization, improvement, productivity, and cleansing. As it is in life, so also in fly fishing.

"How long can rolling waters remain impure? What power shall stay the heavens? As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the Missouri river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty..."

D&C 121:33

Tips: Movement

A little movement can mean the difference between a good day on the water, and a great day. Sometimes the difference comes from what is moved, sometimes it is in how a thing is moved, and at other times it is in how long the movement lasts. Whether it's the fisherman or the fly, motion can be a game changer.

Streamers: When fishing a streamer it never hurts to consider what the fish might be taking it as.  Does it look like a baitfish? Perhaps a large leech? These questions are good to consider because they may change how you move the fly, if you are moving it at all.  Leeches wiggle, shrink, expand, and pulse through the water column.  As a fly, this would result in smaller movements, pauses between strips, where the fly covers less distance, but may still be repeatedly abrupt or jerky. A baitfish is more likely to dart or have a continuous swimming movement. One of the big differences is from the amount of water they cover. An injured baitfish may fall to the river bottom only to dart back up into the water column.  One of my favorite retrieves when fishing a baitfish streamer is a short fast strip, followed by a longer slower strip, and then a moments pause.  This approach has coaxed many otherwise unwilling fish to bite, making them think that their potential meal would be easy-pickings. Trying different stripping techniques is a quick and easy way to switch up our approach and worth trying before we switch to another fly or move to another run.

Nymphs: When fishing a nymph we often think that a smooth, unaffected drift is best. I think this idea results from an issue dealing with depth and bite detection. Whenever we mend our line in a way that our indicator moves, it lifts our flies out of the sweet spot, requiring more time on the drift for the flies to sink back into the zone.  Good mending usually helps us avoid pulling our flies too much out of the zone, but we often miss out on an aspect that could increase our catching; the movement. To add movement to an indicator/nymph rig the answer is found in adding more weight either to the fly or to the line.  This allows us to twitch the indicator intermittently, causing our flies to dance, all the while still allowing our flies to stay deep in the zone. Adding movement can be especially beneficial when fishing a hatch where bugs are emerging or fishing nymphs that resemble a leech, baitfish, or crayfish. If you aren't using an indicator, you may already know how deadly a slow stripped tandem nymph rig can be. Swinging soft hackles is another effective approach.  With a single handed rod and floating line, an upstream cast, with a generous amount of line/slack, allows the flies to sink down and run lower in the water column. Then when your line reaches the end of the drift and comes tight, the flies that sank on the drift, rise in a "hatching" motion. The takes are usually aggressive.

Dries: Nothing looks more delicious to a hungry surface-feeding trout than a struggling terrestrial. Now, this does not mean skating a mayfly, though that technique slays with caddis. In most cases though, the drag-free drift is the way to go with dries. But just because you are keeping it drag-free doesn't mean you can't make that chubby shimmy. Ants, hoppers, mayflies, spiders, wasps, beetles, bees, and many other topwater tasties struggle once they find themselves stuck in a watery mire. Little twitches can conjure up the unwilling trout, much like the right movement with a streamer will do. Indeed, two anglers can fish the same water with the same fly, but one can outcatch other other 3:1, and this is usually their secret to success.  Adding movement to dries seems to be easiest with larger, more bouyant patterns like hoppers, chubbies, salmonflies, and caddis, but does not need to be restricted to them.  The trick is to make the fly have movement, but not move the fly a great distance in the water. Much easier said than done, but a worthy technique to master.

Fly Construction: Not all materials are created equal. This is a hard concept for many to accept. I hear ice dub has even made an appeal to the supreme court because hare's ear dub is claiming that ice dub is not natural. Rabbit strips say it won't go anywhere, and most saddle hackles don't want to get involved. I say, why can't they all accept their differences and get along. Together they could make a pretty sweet fly. All kidding aside, knowing what a given material does in the water can be helpful.  Some materials have inherent movement and require less work on the anglers part to make the fly look alive. Other materials require the angler to compensate. Some are better for a swinging fly, while others do better stationary or stripped in. Rabbit hair flairs out and pulsates with minimal added movement. Buck tail is more ridged and maintains a fuller body. Marabou feathers slick down and keep a narrow profile when in the water. Ice dub, as a synthetic, loops and has a brushy velcro effect that can catch on a trouts teeth. These are good things to be aware of because you know what your fly can do and what you need to do to help it look alive. Mixing different kinds of materials to construct a fly can also add or take away movement. A good example of this is Kelly Galloup's Sex Dungeon. The large deer hair head pushes water and, much like air pressure and airplane wings, creates a negative pressure behind the head. This results in a stationary head and an erratic swimming tail. Even if you do not tie your own flies, it doesn't hurt to understand something about how they are made. If nothing else, play with them in the water close enough to you that you can see how they act and react to your movements with the rod.

Two Flies: One thing I often do, which has helped improve my catching considerably, is to fish two flies at the same time. This is one technique that a lot of anglers avoid because of the extra hassles involved.  The reason I mention this in an article aimed at movement is that whenever a second fly is added, the attached line and dragging fly affect the lead fly. This can hinder hookups and movement on the first fly but can also make it look much more desirable. I'll often tie on a white trailer because it gets the fishes attention.  I honestly think that they see the white more easily, and then register that it is chasing another thing. In the spur of the moment this creates a momentary thought of scarcity for any fish seeing the chase. "If that little fish is focused on what is chasing it, it won't see me coming to chomp it from the side!" is what a fish might say. On a side note, I have also noticed that fishing a heavy lead fly and a weightless trailing fly lets me fish deeper but helps me avoid getting snags because the trailing fly helps pull the lead fly up away from the bottom. 

The Angler: Sometimes we linger when we should move to fresh water, while at other times we walk right through what has the potential to be a productive lie. For this I have no great advice to give because it has mostly to do with preference and personal experience. I will say this though, when given the choice I usually choose to move.  If I move around and have not found success with what I expected to work, I then change up my tactics and cover the water again. Just don't give up too quick or you'll rob yourself of some good learning opportunities that will likely result in some stellar fishing.


With most things in life, moderation enriches. In your adventures with adding movement into your fishing, don't forget to pause every now and again.  Sometimes the fish want it slow or not moving at all. Sometimes we need to stop moving to appreciate what is right in front of us.  Sometimes we need to stop talking and start thinking. Sometimes we need to stop clogging our eardrums with noise and start listening to the beautiful and reverent sounds of creation.  Like any magnificent and moving arrangement of music, there's a tempo, there's notes, there's rests, and there's a rhythm. Good luck creating yours, and remember, sometimes a little movement makes all the difference.