Sunday Ramble

David Hutton Sept 22, 2018

The bugs were buzzing, loudly. 
    Annoying, really, for 7 o'clock in the morning. The thermometer said it was 71 degrees on the porch. It felt a much hotter, and sweat formed on my forehead.

    "Well, here we are...," I muttered, "The first official day of Fall."
Bucky The Cat sat nearby, and turned to watch me gather up my fishing gear. 
Cats are true stoics - he just licked vhis paws and said nothing.

    I put on my vest and tool lanyard, and walked to the truck.
They slipped on easily, comforting me - and they were welcome.
The day before, I forgot to bring these simple things, and it put me off balance. It is often the little things that matter most. 

    So with the bugs buzzing and the cat watching my departure, I wiped the sweat from my eyes and was off to the lake.

Low Water and Gar
    The water is still low at Lake Murray, and that won't change anytime soon. On the plus side, it lets me get around the shore a little easier, and features of the bottom are exposed.
By next season, they will be under water again - like the driftwood root, below. Soon, only the ends of the upright branches will be visible....

    I did notice a lot of big gar cruising around. They seem  to lurk everywhere this time of year, appearing out of nowhere, not three feet from the shore.
    I like gar. I admire any critter that has hung on for 160 million years, and I tried to interest them in some top-water plugs. But gar are the stoics of the aquatic world, and they took no interest in my fakes

    I do catch gar, although it is usually when I don't want to.
In the the past, they have taken the very lure I was throwing today.... when throwing it for something else! 
    That's how it is with gar - they do what they want and you never know just what that's gonna be. So today, they glide on by... only watching.

Keep Out!
    While out and about, I took a side trip to a spot I fished often when I first moved up this way. It is a small spit of land, isolated, with some good features. It has a rough, long-forgotten logging road that allows access..., and that description is generous where roads are concerned. 
    But this day, it is posted, "NO TRESPASSING," and a cable is drawn across the entrance to the old road.  
    This has been a favorite spot of locals to camp and fish for years, and I've picked up a lot of trash that people have left back there.
    But, I guess it wasn't enough to stop the closure. 
    The owners did leave their number on the sign, so who knows, they may be willing to talk about access.

    However, I'm taking this as an omen, insofar as fishing is concerned.  
    My access around the lake is pretty much limited to public venues like boat ramps, picnic sites and the few places remaining like this peninsula. In short, most of the land around the lake has been  privatized, with few places like this remaining. Then, along come the Trash Baboons and other slobs to ruin it.
    So you can't blame the land owners for closing it down.
    What this means is, you either know someone, get permission, or stick to the few public access areas. 
    This will be my wake up call, I guess - it is time to get serious about a boat, if I want to reach all the places to fish.

PS The peninsula's closure actually foreshadowed a larger concern - the peninsula was part of a large land grab that is has now been turned into luxury housing. You want  to talk about a good thing gone bad? This is it - the entire area is permanently off limits.

Slip Floats
    Today, I chose to prospect with my old Daiwa spinning rig, using worms and slip floats. 
    Slip floats are one of my favorite ways to fish; I picked it up when I first got back into fishing about 12 years ago. Prior to that I had never heard of a slip float; if I used any kind of float, it was a plastic, red-and-white, "bobber," clipped to my line.
    Today, I don't use the red-and-white bobbers much at all. Instead I have shifted to bona-fide "slip floats," and prefer them over any other 

    So what is the difference between a slip float and a bobber?
Bobbers, by my definition, are floats that are fit with springs and clips for attaching the float tight to the line. With the bobber thus arranged,  there is a long length of free line dangling below the bobber that hinders the cast. For the most part, they only allow about 3-4 of depth. 
    Floats, on the other hand, usually have a streamlined shape and they lack most of the intricate, clamp-on features of a bobber. The line literally runs through them, which is how they get their name.    But more importantly, adding a float stop on the line somewhere above the float to set the depth, you only cast the hook, a small balancing weight, and the float which slides down to the terminal end. This makes casting super easy.
    Once the rig is cast out in the water, however, the weight affixed below the float pulls the hook and bait down until the stop is reached. Now the bait is maybe 10 feet deep, maybe 15. But the whole rig was maybe a foot or two long when you cast it out.
    Lastly, when you retrieve the rig, it all pulls back up and you again only retrieve the short length that is the float-weight-hook.
    Any depth is possible, and all you have to do to adjust it is slide the float stop up or down the line!

My Slip Floats
    I use store-bought slip floats, or increasingly, I make my own.
It doesn't much matter, really, because they do the same thing either way.
    

Homemade slip float and a hackled Tipping Fly

    For casting, I prefer a balanced, bullet shaped float, like the one above. That one was actually re-cycled from a battered bobber-type found in a bush!
    Long Euro-styled floatss are becoming more popular, and I like them for their sensitivity. But when doing any casting with average length rod and reel, and especially in tight situations, I prefer these bullet types. 

    This is not passive fishing, either. 

• There is depth to constanty adjust
• The balancing weight must adjusted
• Structure and cover has to be worked over carefully
• Bait must be constantly attended to 

    It is really a hunting activity.

    The slip float turned up quite a few smaller fish, so I wasn't skunked. But nothing to test my reels drag was seen. 

    The fish I did manage were holding tight to the available cover - a few feet too far away and you got nothing. But move right in close to the cover, and they'd bite.
    In the picture below, the left side of the toppled tree yielded a lot of these fish, close in to the branches. Meanwhile, the other side wouldn't give up a single bite. Weird....

Look closely in the middle of the picture... stuck in the tree is a cigar shaped, bobber-type neon yellow float.
It is not mine - it is another one lost to the bushes! 

    The other rig I tried was a modified Fish Finder rig, what some call a, "Santee Rig." That is a basic fish finder rig, but with a small float near the terminal end to hold the hook up off the snags near the bottom.
    I wanted to cover the last foot of water near the bottom, and I fan-cast around any area I was in with this set up. There was a lot of submerged wood and the depth breaks were pretty obvious, with the low water conditions. I usually hook up a couple shellcrackers on the worms this way,... but today, nuttin.

    The third rod I carried was a light casting rig for artificials.This consists of an old fly rod with a Zebco 11T spincast reel, and 6 lb test line. Between working the bait rigs, I had a few casts here and there with this ultralight outfit. 
    This little guy was willing... I watched him follow this crankbait all the way to the last foot - and when I paused, the lure hung there - and the fish pounced....

The Old Daiwa

    Tomorrow is another day, just as this one came to its inexorable end. And that's how it goes...each day coming after the one before. In fact, I think tomorrow is gonna be a good day to get some work done on that boat.

Tight Lines, and I hope you learned something from this. If you liked it, a share is appreciated.

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David
Palmetto Fly N Fish
©All rights reserved, ©2018, 2023

After The Hurricane

Hurricane Florence - Adios!

David Hutton, Sept 16, 2018

Today, with the passing of Hurricane Florence, we in South Carolina breathe a sigh of relief. What was, at one point, the storm of the century, turned out to be, well... we didn't get it all that bad. A lot of rain and wind, a few trees down here and there. I think our power blinked maybe 3 or 4 times.
Others are not so lucky, of course; the folks in North Carolina got it bad. To those who have fared badly, I send my sincere hopes for a speedy return to normalcy.

Since Lori, my wife, is a photographer, she thinks in terms of light exposures, and imagery. And a stormy day offers untold chances along those lines, so we went out for awhile to see what we might discover in the aftermath of Flo'.

"Where's that place you took me to with the exposed tree roots?" she asked.
"You mean Boat Ramp #3? A few miles from here. You know where your hairdressers' shop is?"
"Of course."
"It's just past that," I told her. "Take a left up there at the light..."

A Gray Day

As you can see from the above foto, the wind was down to a few knots, maybe 5. The ceiling was low, heavy, and gray. 
A misty rain covered everything in a coat of wet diamond drops. After the oppressive heat of late summer, the brisk, cool breeze was welcome.

High And Dry - Shells Galore

Exposed Rocks and Shells

Lake Murray is a reservoir serving the Dutch Fork Shoals power generating station, above Columbia, SC. It was said that Florence had the rain capacity to fill Chesapeake Bay, so the power company was drawing down the lake in advance of the rush. From the look of it, I'd say it was about 5 feet low. Areas that were once inundated, just a few weeks ago, were now bare and exposed. The dry line probably extended a good 15-18 feet between the waters edge, and the normal high water point.

Of great interest, though, from an anglers perspective, were all the exposed rocky areas near shore. 

This is a fairly rare sight to see, and it revealed large tracts of freshwater mollusk shells that would otherwise be covered. 
Off the shore, in the deeper troughs, large beds of these shellfish exist, pretty much everywhere there is open water. It is one reason why Lake Murray is a good red-ear sunfish venue. These fish have the unique ability to crack open these mollusk shells, and they grow large on the tasty meat inside. They don't call these brutes, "shellcrackers" for nothing.
They are my favorite panfish to catch.

Something else that pleased me was a crayfish. As mundane as this sounds, I never think of this lake as a home to these little lobsters. But its mostly a rocky bottom, so they are here and I'm always a little happy to see them. 
I have found them as big as your hand, out around some of the islands, and today I heard a little splash while I was walking along the rocks. When I turned to look, I saw a 2 1/2" crayfish scooting away underwater. I can only guess the thing was half in, and half out of the water, and he dove in at my passing. 
I've never heard of them doing that, but I can think of no other explanation.  

Bad Battery

No trip to the lake would be complete without collecting some trash - its a ritual with me. 

"Never Leave Without Someone Else's Trash" is sort of my motto. 

I picked up the usual plastic bottles, chip wrappers, beer cans, plastic bags...and this battery. Now I know a lot of people are slobs and I can do little about it but clean up what I find. And there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation why this was in, what would otherwise be, 5 feet of water.

But this grates my nerve, right here.

Raccoon #1

Raccoon #2

Fungus Among Us

The local raccoons seemed not to be too bothered by the weather; judging by the tracks, they were out in strong numbers around the shoreline. I guess the wind and waves brought them something worth looking for....But it seemed toadstools were not on the menu. These were on a rotten section of a downed tree that us usually just above the waters surface. 

The Gleanings

I almost always find something worth scavenging around the shore. I'm an inveterate beachcomber, and I actively look for things to bring home. Today, the Shore Side Grab Bag provided:

Large Clam Shell
1 Vienna Sausage can
10' hank of 12# Red Cajun monofilament

1 fluorescent plastic bead

1 split shot

2 #6 Aberdeen hooks

1 paint can handle

The clamshell and Vienna sausage can went in the trash; I only show then for scale. And besides, here in The South, canned Vienna sausages are a near staple food. Every angler has a soft spot for the things, or at least a passing familiarity. I normally wouldn't eat them, but gimme some Saltine crackers and these tinned weenies when out fishing, and I'm into some high dining.

The paint can handle will provide some hard wire for repairing something here at home. I was wondering just what I'd use for this job.... and the Shore Side Grab Bag provides.

The hooks and other tackle items are another thing. I try to always tie a fly from whatever hooks and other items I find along the shore. It's a sort of challenge. 

The bead and shot will probably just go into the tackle stores.

But I've been reading a piece from 1936 about bucktail flies, and I think I've got an idea for the hooks an red monofilament along these lines. Stay tuned for more.

Thanks and Tight Lines,

David Hutton

Palmetto Fly N Fish 2018©

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Is It Chum, or Cornbread?

    Being as interested in the history of fishing as I am with the latest trends, I was pleased to discover passages in Pliny The Elder’s, ‘Natural History’ that describe early, "fish aggregation devices (FAD's)".
    What this fancy term describes is the practice of floating object in the water, which then attracts fish to gather around the object. In this way they become, "sitting ducks," and can be more readily taken.

    One ancient version of the FAD technique included placing feeding baskets in the water at a particular spot, with men venturing out everyday to feed the fish via this device. Eventually, so many fish gathered that it was easy to capture them with net or spear.

    At this point my memory was jogged to remember our own Southern version of this very thing. It is best described by this old maxim:

"The best place to catch fish is under a piece of cornbread."

Cornbread? That's right - cornbread.



photo courtesy of Betty Crocker, Inc.

Not The Good Stuff

    So when if we are to speak of cornbread for attracting fish, lets first address just what we mean.
    First off, I don't mean the best "eatin'" cornbread - that is a Southern delicacy, and should be reserved for the table and the stomachs of decent men.
    But should there be leftover cornbread, the stuff that ends up stale and maybe a bit moldy... that's the cornbread fit for feeding fish

    However you get it, though, a hunk of stale cornbread, floating in the water is an instant lure to the small minnows and fry that seem always to be lurking nearby.

    I've heard of barefoot Southern boys pokinge a few holes in an old  bucket or pan, then floating it between a few boards. Into this makeshift FAD, they drop their cornbread and push it out from shore. An old basket might work as well, but the end result is an honest to goodness Fish Aggregating Device!

Let Them Eat Cake
    As the cornbread begins to soak in the water, it sheds bits and pieces of itself.

- First comes the small grains of ground corn from whence it is made. These drop away and float down in the water. Their bright color and tiny size is a natural lure to voracious small fry, and they swarm around picking these off on the fall.
- There is also the "cloud" of finer particles that balloons around as the cornbread decomposes in the water. 
- Finally comes the "slick," the oil sheen that drifts off from the cornbread.

Don't Be Afraid Of Cornnbread
    Good cornbread is made with whole milk, eggs, and plenty of rendered bacon fat or salt pork drippings. Some people make it with vegetable oil, and talk themselves into calling it cornbread.
    But real Southerners know better - that's a cruel joke made all the worse for playing it on yourself. No, real cornbread is not for cowards, or the modern-day health conscious.
It is made with pork fat drippins', plain and simple.

How It Works
    In the water, it is this combination of grainy bits, the dispersal cloud and animal proteins from the pork fat that creates a zone of fishy yumminess that disperses upon the currents around the cornbread. No matter which way the wind blows or where the water moves, it is a natural scent attractor that sends out its siren call to the fish.

    But lets be clear here and reiterate the point of this exercise:

    None of this is intended to attract big fish, right off - no sir.
The aim here is to create a frenzy of noisy feeding activity beneath the surface of the water AROUND the cornbread FAD. It is THAT action that ultimately draws near the larger game fish.

    Sounds travels more efficiently and farther in water than it does in air. Because the fish is IN the water, and its own body is 90% water, it essentially "hears" much better in water than we do in air. 
    Therefore, as the small fish dart to and fro in the dispersal cloud, gorging themselves on the floating kernels, they set up a symphony of raucous sound that other fish may hear at a great distance.

    Next comes the scent of fatty fried bacon goodness, borne far and wide.
    In time, the smaller fish and their rowdy activity draw bigger fish that come to investigate the commotion. They instinctively recognize these sounds as feeding fish, and they want to feed, too - not so much on the cornbread itself, but on the small baitfish that are themselves busy with their frantic feast.

    Basically, your cornbread FAD has created a  rambunctious crowd-fest of feeder fish, which no self-respecting game fish can resist!

In Closing
    Let us return to our original thought, and ask...
"Does this match Pliny The Elder's description of a 'fish aggregation device'?" I say it most definitely does, and besides, doesn't sound much better than the commonly used phrase, "chum bucket?"

    But no matter what you call it, or more importantly - how you slice it - the best place to fish may very well be under a piece of cornbread!

------------<~~>------------

If you found value in this article, please like, comment, and share it. 

Do you have questions, compliments, or suggestions?
Email me at...dahutist@gmail.com

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Thanks so much for reading, and...

Tight Lines,

Dave Hutton

© All rights reserved, David Hutton/Palmetto Fly N Fish 2018/2023 

Jack Montague Flies

The Long and Short of Things

Panfish Flies From Jack Montague

David Hutton ©2018

Today, the postman made a delivery. 

Now, that's probably not unusual in itself. It happens everyday, millions of times.
But this delivery is special, for several reasons.

The Mail Blockade
First off, what the postman delivered were flies from Jack Montague. 
Here again, that may not mean much to you, especially if you don't know Mr. Montague.
But it has set some precedents all its own that are pretty extraordinary.

See, Jack has had no small amount of trouble in the past, getting items from his Wolfglen Fly Fishing School (and Poultry Sanctuary) in Punta Gorda Florida, to my place in SC.

For whatever weird and intricate reasons known only to the U.S Post Office, it seems they had a blockade in place when items from Jack were sent to me.
They didn't seem to know where I lived - that's the main thing. 
Or, in fact, if ANYONE lived here.
The address was basically incognito.

To help the poor folks there at the mail office, Jack had me send him pictures of my mailbox. 
You know, so they had a point of reference.

"See here, people?" he said. "See that blue mailbox with the Palmetto Flag on it.... right, there? 
That's where these are going. You can handle that, eh?"  

He talked real slow, and loud, too, so they could understand him better.
He addressed his letters in large block print.

And still they came back..."NO SUCH ADDRESS"

So, for Jack to finally get something through the invisible force field surrounding my mailbox, well, that is a big deal.

Not Your Average Flies
Secondly, these are some of Jack's long-shanked panfish flies. Not your everyday bluegill flies, mind you. No foam, no glitter, no rubber legs; none of the usual stuff. 

They're actually just hackle, a small body, maybe some fuzzy stuff, and that's about it.
Oh, and there is one other difference - the HOOK. 

They are rather long as panfish fly hooks go. If I were to guess, I'd say they are light wire Aberdeens, or something very similar. 

But, it's that long shank sticking out of the flies head that makes the impression. Why, they don't even have what we might call a head, at least not one at the eye.

What Jack has done is tie a "bare shank" fly. This is an old practice that goes back at least a century, and probably further, if I were to guess.

I remember a discussion not long ago on Facebook, in fact, where someone posted his "revolutionary" new flies... the same long shank jobs.
These were "new and improved" versions, sure to set the fly fishing world on fire. They were a stroke of genius, he assured us.
I wanted to tell him the idea was older than he was by a long shot. 
I wanted to tell him that Jack had just shown these same flies on some other page, not 2 weeks before. 

I wanted to. But, I said nothing and just kept going. 
For all the guy knew, these really were a breakthrough - at least to him.
And I don't need my monkey in every circus.

I know, I know... pretty odd for me to keep my mouth shut. But I'm getting more humble in my old age, I guess.

Anyway, the idea here is to create a fly that doesn't go straight down in the gullet of the fish and gut-hook the poor thing. 
It may be taken deep, still , but the protruding shank keeps it from going too far. 
It also gives you something to get hold of when removing the hook. This translates to doing less harm to the fish, if that's your thing.
If you are harvesting the fish, then it facilitates unhooking so you can get back to business.

I wonder if the fish don't shy away from that hook shank, sticking out like a tiller, but Jack assures me they don't seem to mind at all. I guess a hungry fish sees what it wants to see.

But the real dilemma is: do I fish these? 
These are from Jack Montague, after all.

Why is that so special?

I remember seeing an article in a 1968 issue of the Pennsylvania Angler that lauded the excellent flies, and skill, of a young, up-and-coming man by the name of... you guessed it... Jack Montague. 

1968.

Back when I had just started waving the fairy stick, Jack told me three things that improved my casting to the point that flies actually went out where they were supposed to, instead of piling up at my feet.

Over the phone. 
In under 10 minutes.
That left an impression, I admit it
  
Jack is also one of the last of the Catskill Men. He learned to tie from Harry and Elsie Darbee, you know. 
He hates it when I call him a "living legend," in fact. 
Here's how he puts it...

"Dave, stop saying that.  You gotta be dead to be a legend, and I'm not ready for that."

So, I'll probably fish one of these flies, and use the rest as samples from which to tie my own long shank flies.

Who knows; this could be the start of something new and revolutionary.

Thanks for reading and Tight Lines,

David

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The Grey Nymph

THE GREY NYMPH 

David Hutton©2018

In part 2 of my previous article, "The Bass Flies Of A. J. McClane” I mentioned a fly known as the, "Grey Nymph."

The article was inspired by a book from one of Americas greatest outdoors and fishing writers, A.J. McClane. 
Not only did this man spend 4 decades as the fishing editor for Field and Stream Magazine, but McClane wrote a landmark work on fly fishing, "The Practical Fly Fisherman" (1953).
In it we find a chapter devoted to bass fishing, and it is there we find Mr. McClane singing the praises of the “Grey Nymph.”

And he wasn't the only one who liked it.

None other than George Herter proclaimed the Grey Nymph not just a success, but a must-have in your fly box.
This is significant, because the outspoken Herter, like McClane, was a very influential voice in the world of fishing at the time. 
He also knew what he was talking about, and wasn't one to mince words or hand out praise lightly. He'd call a pattern great, or junk, if he thought it deserved it.

1953 was a while ago; these old-timers may be unknown to us, today, which is a pity. But they knew as much about catching fish as anyone. Maybe more.
Taken together, if they said a fly was a good one, you can bank on that.
 

A Toothsome Fly

McClane calls the Grey Nymph a, "fur bodied nymph." 
As the name implies, the body is formed from dubbed underfur.

The primary reason for this fur body on a bass fly was to give the fish a soft, spongy morsel to chomp on. Bass will hold onto a soft-bodied fly longer than they will hard lures, often running off with them some distance. 
Much like the familiar topwater "deer hair bugs,” these sub-surface, fur-bodied nymphs are among just a handful of flies that take advantage of this habit.

This tendency of bass to mouth-and-run with their prey is well known to modern soft-plastic anglers, and was likewise known to bait anglers back then.
But, according to McClane, this was just coming to be accepted in post-war fly fishing circles.

Bottom line, it's okay to fish them with a little slack in the line - this affords the fish time to fill his mouth and swim a bit.
A “loose line,” is normally not encouraged in fly fishing, but this is a special case. 

Fly Notes
At the time McClane and Herter wrote glowingly of the Grey Nymph, there was no official name for such a pattern type. 
Today, we would call it a "flymph," albeit one on steroids.
But, the name 'flymph' hadn't been created yet. 
So they used a somewhat generic name, like 'grey nymph.'

I, myself, have always referred to this general style as a, "3-Way Fly."
I'm one of those guys who likes to apply a catchy name to things, if I don't already know one. And I'd like to say I came up with the name, "3-Way Fly," but I expect someone used it before ME... that usually turns out to be the case.

The reason I went with, "3-Way," though, is pretty simple...


A. It has three main features:

• Tail
• Body
• Hackle collar

B. I hadn’t heard of a, 'flymph," either

Thus the name, "3-Way Fly," was born.
I also like, 'steroidal flymph'... See what I mean about me naming stuff?

Muskrat underfur was, and remains, the proper choice for this big nugget of a fly. This bulky material is a uniform, grey color right off the hide, and it spins easily into a well-knit dubbing noodle.
A tail of grizzly soft hackle, and a collar of the same material complete this elementary design.

More than anything, though, the Grey Nymph should be tied as chunky as you can manage. 
Don't let anyone accuse you of tying the body sparsely.
This is not your microscopic mayfly nymph; it is intended to be a mouthful. 

I go with size 6, but a few bigger one's ought to be in your fly wallet, too. Keep that in mind as you follow along.

Adaptable Pattern

At the time I published the article on McClane's bass flies, I had no Grey Nymphs on hand. But I wanted to get some off the vise, so I tied a variation for this write-up.

A nice thing about this pattern is it is simple and it adapts easily to many basic materials. For example, because I didn't have muskrat at the time, I substituted a thickly-applied, natural hares mask blend for the body. 
I also used pheasant, "church window" feathers instead of grizzly soft hackle, to complement the ochre color of the dubbing.

This "buggy-brown" combination of spiky rabbit dubbing and pheasant hackle actually works out very well - it has produced nicely in my local waters.
So give it a try, in addition to the original pattern described below.



Dressing the Grey Nymph 

Hook: #6, nymph or bait hook (even larger, if you like)

Tail: Grizzly hackle barbs stripped from the shaft
(Substituted - pheasant 'church window' soft hackle)

Body: natural muskrat underfur, combed from the hide
(Substituted - natural hares mask blend)

Ribbing: none
(Optional - wire or monofilament rib)

Hackle: 2-3 wraps of grizzly soft hackle
(Substituted - same pheasant hackle as tail)

As you can see, it's not a complicated job and you can knock out a bunch of them, fast.
So get started and try a few.

PS - About now, you might be doubting all this "large nymph" stuff for bass.
After all, nymphs are typically small and we're taught to believe bass really want big meals, right?
Tying them super sized isn't normal.
It just isn't done. 
Its not right.

Let me dispel that idea. 

Stomach studies of fish, including predators like bass, usually reveal they eat A LOT of nymphs. This is pronounced during hatch migrations, but also throughout the warm season. A few folks catch on to this fact, but its still mostly unrecognized.

I've also seen dragonfly nymphs 2" long - and bigger - at my lake.
Yes, two inches.
So, don't be afraid to tie big nymphs, especially for still-water fishing. I've caught bass, large bluegill, and some of the biggest crappie I've seen in a long time on the very nymph pattern shown here.

Think of it this way: Fish are opportunistic, and they eat that which Nature presents to them. If you see big dragonflies in the air, then you can be assured the fish have seen big dragonfly NYMPHS living in the water. 

And they won't miss the chance to eat one!

In case you missed it, follow this link to, "The Bass Flies of A.J. McClane, part 2"

As Always, thanks for reading and Tight Lines,

David

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HOW ABOUT A HARES MASK?

HOW ABOUT A HARES MASK?

The Macabre Meets Fly Fishing

David Hutton, 2018©

I'm a big fan of natural fly tying materials. 

Peacock herl, bucktail, hackle... all of these, and more, are the stuff I like best. Truth be told, the 'hares mask' is probably on any Top 10 of natural tying materials, and I've known that for a long time. 

So, in August of 2017, I figured it was time to take the plunge.

What The Heck Is  A Hares Mask?

For those who have heard the term, but may not know what it is, a “hare's mask” is the actual skin and ears of a rabbits face. 

Yes, Virginia, somewhere, someone peels the skin off rabbits' faces and cures them for fly tying. The result is called the "mask."

And while a bit shocking at first meeting, there is a good reason for these things: there are few (if any) synthetic materials that offer the spiky, translucent dubbing obtained from a bunny's face. 

The fly bodies tied from this dubbing are said to nearly glow under water. Some flies are created specifically to take advantage of that; the Hares Ear Nymph and its variations come to mind.

This is the stuff serious fly anglers live for.

What Is It Like?
Imagine a flat piece of rock hard jerky, with hair, ears, and vacant little eyes staring up at you, and you get the idea. 

Bang it on the table for a satisfying “whack!” 

Toss it at the cat like a Frisbee.

Poke your fingers through the eye holes and make Pee Wee Herman voices. 

Yeah, it's kinda weird at first.

Once you get over the oddity of handling the peeled, dried skin from a rabbits face, you then wonder what to do with the thing. 

Just how do you go about turning this macabre material into a trout fly, par excellence?

Problems and Solutions
Well, from what I've learned, it seems a lot of people go about it all wrong. Most will take a little brownish hair, snip off a bit of the spiky guard hairs from the ear, or nip off the furry stuff from the cheeks... and the rest is wastefully ignored. 

Eventually, the thing gets tossed; its now pockmarked with little hair divots.

The problem with this is that the masks, natural or dyed, vary widely in shade and texture. 

Even from rabbit to rabbit in the same litter, this variation exists. It is the one shared fault of all natural materials. 

Now, if you only want to tie one or two flies at a time, this is probably not a big deal. 

But if you want to maintain color fidelity across many flies, say in a production scheme, this “face picking” makes it nearly impossible to get consistency. 

You don't see that with synthetics, which is part of their appeal. They are the same from batch to batch, for the most part.

Natural materials, well... not so much.

But, there is a simple process that allows you to get nearly all the hair from the mask with little waste, and create a uniform blend of dubbing in the bargain. 

Here’s how I did it.

Materials
1. A hare’s mask
2. Wide mouth jar with lid (I used a pickle jar)
3. Small wire brush
4. Heavy fly tying scissors
5. Strainer (I used a piece of vinyl window screen)
6. Towels, both paper and cloth,

Step 1. Remove the whiskers
Using heavy fly tying scissors, clip the whiskers from the hare’s mask and save them for mayfly tails. 

Surprisingly, there are a lot of whiskers on a rabbits face. And after nipping off the bunny whiskers, put them where you won't forget about them. 

Then, when you want to tie up long tailed mayflies, pull out the whiskers and put them to use.
I mean, who doesn't want to tie rabbit whiskered mayflies?

Step 2. Clip the hair from the mask.
This is the tedious part.

A hare's mask isn't any bigger than your two joined hands, but it seems to take forever to remove the hair. 
There is a lot more than you think. 

Its like eating raccoon; you can do it, but you gotta keep at it.
It took me an honest hour to get it done. 

And since it's a hair clipping exercise, it's kinda messy. This is best done over a large tray of some kind; I used a big, multi-compartment box – one of those hefty Plano jobs.
And Im glad I did... I sneezed once from all the hair, and it kept the hair from going all over.

The ears stick up, too, and get in the way of the process, so I cut them off and handled them as separate features. The ears are as stiff as the rest of thing, so I cut the ears along their length and split them open to get at all the little hairs.

To remove the hair, use a wire brush to scrub against the grain and stand it up, then go at it with the scissors. 

Just catch the short hairs beneath the scissors and trim away, right down to the skin. You'll get the guard hairs, the soft underfur, and the occasional bit of skin. 

Scrub with the brush, and do it again.

I've heard that some people shave the mask and ears with a single edge razor blade, but the skin is too bumpy and uneven for that. You're just as likely to cut down into the hide and hang up the whole thing this way. 

I tried the mustache trimmer on my electric razor, too, but that was a total bust. 

The scissors get it close enough to the skin with almost no waste, so that's what I suggest.

Step 3. Pile It Up

Once you've taken as much hair and fur as possible from the mask, scrape it all into a pile on the tray.

Hey, that isn't so bad after all. Lets go tie some flies!

Sorry, no. 

Don't relax, just yet.

Step 4. Wash It Up
Next, fill the jar about 2/3 of the way with warm water, then mix in a few drops of mild soap. 

The soap removes the natural oils and other contaminants that may remain from the processing of the mask.

Okay - are you ready? 

Add the clipped hair to the jar, screw on the lid and shake for several minutes... 5 minutes isn't too long.

Once mixed, set the thing aside while you figure out what to do with the naked, rock-hard hide of a shaven rabbit face.
I still haven't decided; the dang thing is sitting there looking at me as I write this.

Step 5. Dump And Drain
Once the suds in the jar have dissipated, pour the contents of the jar into a strainer and rinse with warm water. 

Allow to drain.
I used the window screen because it was super easy to press out excess water. Just fold the flat mass of dubbing over in the screen and press out the water on a towel.

Step 6. Dry It Out

With the excess water removed, you want to dry out the mass of damp hair. The window screen was nice because I just opened it, and placed it somewhere to dry. 

I raised it up so air could flow underneath, and lowered a lamp bulb near the mess to add warmth. It took about an hour or so to dry. 

Check on it once in a while and break it up so it evenly dries. When its fully dry, it'll look something like lumpy felt. The chunks of dubbing can then be easily mixed around and broken up into one big wad.

NOTE - If you have a significant other, I suggest you keep this job on the down-low; maybe do it outside.

Unless he or she is also a keen fly angler, cutting up, clipping, and washing the hair from dead rabbit faces in the kitchen or bathroom is unlikely to get you many points.

The Results
Once complete, you get a nice heap of spiky dubbing. 

Really, I'm still surprised just how much hair is on a rabbits face. The stuff is a reliable, uniform shade, with guard hairs and softer fur evenly spread out among the whole.

The mask I used was natural, and undyed, so the dubbing is a brownish-gray overall. I'd call it a “universal” color. 

A light colored one would make a good companion to this. You can also mix and blend these dubbings at the vise, of course, for unlimited combinations.

I'll add a little sparkle dub, or finely shredded ultra flashabou, like 'Gartside Secret Stuff,' to get highlights in it. Or how about some orange muskrat, or yellow wool for other variations? 

I can also imagine having hares mask dubbings in several dyed shades, representing the insects that are prominent in your locale. For me, this would be olive, yellow, and orange.

Who knows, one might even become a hares mask collector, snatching up all you find for that oh-so-subtle difference. 
Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. 

But, I'd keep it to myself... most people probably won't get it.

Tight Lines and Thanks,

David

Previously posted on Palmetto Fly N Fish

Thanks to Steve Bird for the inspiration