A River Never Sleeps

By Mark Hume

“Fly tying and fly fishing should be a relaxing and therapeutic sport in this age of hurry and bustle. After a day of endless phone calls and paper shuffling, one needs to get away and relax.

What I do after such a day is depart to one of my favorite lakes, sit in my Rebel one man boat and let Mother Nature unwind all my woes. A brew sometimes helps.

Be quiet, observant and usually you will find fish in what is one of the world’s last places of total freedom and tranquility.

And think of the future. Fish barbless, and learn catch and release methods so there will be fish and a clean environment for everyone to enjoy for many, many years to come. “ - Mo Bradley, writing in his fly tying book, From Ice Off...To Ice On.

Even a veteran fly fisherman can learn a lot just by watching Mo Bradley fish on his home waters, in the Kamloops region of British Columbia. When he arrives at a lake, with his truck loaded with two or three one-man Rebel boats, he is a study of efficiency as he gets ready. He unloads his gear, slides out his boat (extra boats if he has friends along) and rigs up in about 20 minutes. Everything is in its place, and he wastes no time searching for things, or digging up equipment that is buried under other equipment. It comes out in layers - the boats, oars, anchors, life jackets, nets, the rods, fly boxes. There is no sense of hurry, yet he is all set to go in a moment.

Pushing off from shore, Mo is looking over the side of the boat, peering into the weeds, after he’s taken only a few oar strokes. He rows steadily, without hurry, into a bay which he has more than likely fished before at this time of year. He drifts into place, setting anchor in a spot that is just on the edge of the drop off. Depending on what he sees happening in the water and on the surface, and depending on which way the wind is blowing, he will either cast out into the deeper water, or up onto the flats. Sometimes he sets his anchor calculating what water he will be able to fish when the wind shifts around. With the wind blowing offshore, for instance, he’ll be out over the deeper water, but when it shifts inland, as it does in the afternoon, he predicts, he’ll pull one anchor, let the boat swing around, and then fish over the flats.

He fishes slowly. A lot slower than most people. He winds himself down to the speed the fish and insect world is moving at. Fits into it. Then waits. As he says above, in the excerpt from his book, he lets Mother Nature unwind all his woes. A fish helps. He strikes by just smoothly lifting his rod, and when it bends into a heavy fish, he announces it with a cheery, “There we go,” or by a sharp, “Aha!” as if he’s a detective who’s just solved a riddle.

He fishes with a stiff, heavy rod and brings the trout to the net quickly. He unhooks it with a quick twist of his forceps, then usually holds the trout in the water for a moment. “Isn’t that a little beauty,” he will say, even if it’s an 8 lb. rainbow and by anyone’s measure is a giant. If it’s a fish into the double digits, as many of his are, he’ll let you know with a loud: “Ah,ha!” You get the sense he’s been playing hide and seek with that fish for hours and has finally found it.

He’s constantly watching the water and if you ever ask him what he’s seeing, he’ll deliver a detailed discourse on entomology. He not only sees the most prominent insects, but looks at the shucks left behind by those that emerged in the night, and tells you what to expect later in the day. If the weather changes, say by rolling back a bank of clouds, he will likely change his methods.

If you row up beside him on one of the Kamloops trout lakes he haunts, and ask him what fly he recommends, he will not only tell you, but will likely pass you two or three. And when he sees you hook up, using one of his patterns, he’s likely to call out, “There we go!” just as happily as if he’d hooked the fish himself.

Mo likes to fish, tiny delicate flies that he’s tied himself. He usually fishes them dead drift, unless it’s a pattern, like a leech, damsel fly or dragon fly, that needs an active retrieve.

In his fly tying booklet, From Ice Off...To Ice On, Mo explains how to tie, and fish, all the important patterns needed for the lakes of the Kamloops area. The fly he chose to describe first is the Bloodworm, which is one of his favorites. His tie for this pattern is simple and elegant.

Following are his tying instructions, as forwarded in a letter, and a few comments about how to fish it.

Bloodworm - Chironomous larvae

Colours: Blood red, shades of green and brown.
Hook sizes: 9672 - 2, 12, 14 Mustad. Barbless.

1) Dress hook by wrapping red tying thread from eye to bend.
2) Tail. Tie in a small amount of red material for the tail. (In his book, Mo suggests using black bear hair, to create a short, stubby tail. But in his letter he attached a pattern that had a tail out of red body material. It is about 1/3 the body length and has a slight upward curve.)
3) Body. Anchor the body material at the bend and wrap to the head. You could use dyed red Llama, fine red chenille or small red swannundaze for the body. Fine wire, in gold or silver, can be used for ribbing.
4) In the fly that came in his letter Mo finished off the head with a few wraps of peacock herl. In his book he suggests “a few barbules of Pheasant rump top and bottom.”

He adds this observation: “The Chironomous larvae, part of the midge family, is a small, segmented, round bodied worm. This small morsel lives in small tubes in the marl on the bottom of lakes, creeks and rivers, for about one year before hatching. It can be fished from Ice Off... to Ice On, on any line. Slowly.”