South Fork Rod Company C9052.

Steeped in olde timey, bitches. 

In the fall, I decided I'd finally put the time and effort into making wet flies work. I've thrown myself into it, preferring them to all things (although I haven't tried them through a major hatch, yet, mostly because there haven't been any), but I've been assured that I should do so by someone who's opinion I trust.

Amongst things devoted to wet flies has been an interest in obtaining a rod to fish them correctly. At this time, I have little interest in the North Country, tight line method espoused by such notables as Oliver Edwards and Davy Wotton (a personal note to Mr. Wotton: Please consider a manicure before your next video. For the love of God, your nails are revolting, and since you're tying flies I'm forced to look at the disguisting things. Yes, this matters), but am much more focused on the more traditional cross stream methods most commonly associated (and derided) with wet fly fishing.

I tried a couple of rods to start, first a 10' TFO Jim Teeny 5wt (with a 6wt line), which turned up the myriad of shortcomings, both expected and not: Tight loops and high line speed are not ideal for wet fly fishing. You want to keep loops open to ensure your droppers don't tangle each other (which can be done somewhat by simply changing stroke), but the line speed issue is more or less integral to things due to the intrinsic power you put into a stiff rod. The thing I didn't know ahead of time is that fast line speed turns fuck ups into catastrophes, meaning if you tangle your line against itself in a bad cast, you're gonna end up cutting and retying alot. When your cast hits a branch, it tends to wrap itself tight, and you'll loose a lot more flies, whereas a slow rod allows your tangles to be unwound without constant recutting, and you can retrieve flies without having to clomp across the stream.

So, the Teeny was out, and a $20 eBay (including shipping!)  Silafex 022985 was in. We're closer, as its slower, fuller action seemed to prevent alot of the issues, but its basically a 6/7wt (emphasis on 7wt) rod, which is a bit too much for the small fish I frequent. I may have resolved the issues of a fast rod, but it was definitely overkill for the smaller waters I frequented.

Come the Somerset Fly Show, I met with Cameron from TFM, and mentioned what I'd been fishing. He suggested a rod I should try out, and said he'd send a loaner up my way.

Three weeks later, I came home to a surprise at my door.

Stewart's OTHER three flies.

The spider, a dubbed wet, and a hackled wet. This is all the direction

we were left with. 

Before you read this, realize I'm not a historian, an artist, or really very clued in. I just needed something to occupy my mind this extended weekend, and I decided this was something that I found relevant to my interests.

And, again, tied as I interperted the pattern descriptions with modern

materials.

What I'm getting at is if I'm wrong, fuck off, I followed the instructions in a 155 year old book. So, y'know, its pretty much open to interpertation. Deal with it. That aside, I'm not going to bother writing a biography of WC Stewart, because frankly all I'd do is plagiarize others, anyways. Its not like he's not a hugely pivotal figure in fly fishing, more or less advocating the use of the upstream wet fly, and helping push the spider technique of tying into the lime light.

So, whenever anyone really discusses Stewart, its all about the three spider patterns we were left with (black, red, and dun), but we were left with three additional patterns as well as these words:

The three following are the winged flies to which we are most partial... An immense number of killing flies may be made by varying the wings and body, but nothing is gained by extending he number beyond those just mentioned, and we do not believe six more killing imitations can be manufactured.

Now, he's referred to six flies, so its important to note the first three are his spiders. More interestingly, though, is that Stewart clearly believed in the appearance of life over strict imitation, and furthermore (as well documented), was so willing to put preference of technique and design over imitation, one of his famous spider descriptions (the dun) didn't even bother to note the thread colour.

Anyways, the short of it is that the guy was able to reduce his pattern collection to six, which is in stark contrast to guys who carry six different boxes of nymphs, alone. Maybe we can learn something? Let's look at all six patterns in turn...

The Fuzzy Nymph.

Flymph, bitches.

This is a very simple to tie fly that teaches a wonderfully easy concept that can open up whole words of tying, the dubbing loop.

The flymph itself fits into my idea of fly fishing, generic and easy. Impressionistic, it exudes the feeling of life with the supple soft hackle collar and  buggy body. Generally thought to emulate a hatching insect stuck in the film, or a diving caddis, its generic enough to pretty much just represent foot to trouts.

The fly pattern itself was codified and popularized by two Pennsylvania anglers, James Leisenring and Pete Hidy. Jim himself lived in Allentown and practiced his craft on the banks of the Little Lehigh, the best known of our Lehigh Valley limestone creeks.

Its also not so much a fly tied strictly to recipe as much as a pattern, to be tied to whatever you seek. Materials and methods can be as stringent or vague as you feel.