The Stream

 

 

   

  

     During the summer months a fly rod always leans the corner of our screened porch, rigged and ready to go. It is a three-weight rod and the fly on the end of the four X tipper is usually a green woolybugger, if not a woolybugger then a red tag coachman.
     A week ago I caught a seven inch trout with an inch long hellgrammite in its mouth beside my #12 woolybugger. That is described as gluttony, I think. Dry flies are always fun, but the fish are usually smaller.
     Now there is a beaver pond just upstream from our property. What fun. It must have been built this past winter. The dam is nearly four feet tall and thirty feet wide. I will be back.
     Today the wind funneled right up the valley, making accurate casting impossible, but fish were still caught. Walking back towards the trail that leads to home, the wind rocked the trees on the hellishly steep hill to the south.
     The path along the stream has grown in and needs some trimming. During the past winter dozens of softwood trees blew down, some across the stream and others landed in the old path. That kind of work, cutting up trees and moving logs, is fun when accompanied with our dogs, almost as much fun as fishing.
     A woodcock flew across in front of me as I walked the trail to home.

 

Red Tag Coachman

Hook: Dry fly, #16 to 10

Tag: Red wool

Body: Peacock Herl

Wing: White calf tail, tied down-wing caddis style

Hackle: Brown

Thread: Black

 

Think of it as a down-wing attractor pattern. It can also be tied and fished as a wet fly