Our friends at Hökensås Sportsfiske have been organising their popular Trout Safari events for a long time, and they usually sell out very quickly. In the last weekend of October, we have partnered with Hökensås til to put on a Trout Safari together.Continue reading “Hökensås Trout Safari”
It’s not as serious as it seems, but it was the general thinking behind the first Intruder-flies Ed Ward, Jerry French and Scott Howell tied, sometime in the early 90ies. They discovered that big flies would illicit aggressive strikes – because the “intruded the personal space” of big fish, without spooking them. To begin with they used them for king salmon and then slowly transferred the style of fly to steelhead fishing.
There are so many new and exciting flies to try, and many of them you discover in the most unexpected way. That is especially true if we as fly fishers and fly tiers are open to new ideas and think outside the (fly)box.
One of the innovative and very creative fly tiers out there is our friend Brian Ratcliff from England. Among all the flies he’s sent us, especially one pattern caught our attention a little bit more than the rest and we were curious how Brian fishes this fly and how it came about.
Soft hackle flies are some of the most universal and, for me at least, some of the most important in my trout/grayling flyboxes. I fish them as teams of two in the rivers and I often use them as droppers in stillwater. While the old, English masters of the tradition actually were quite specific on which insects their dressings imitate, they are often good year round.
The perfect may fly imitation has haunted fly fishers, probably since the dawn of fly fishing. At least we know that as modern dry fly fishing evolved on the chalk streams of southern England in the late 1800s (with Marryat, Halford et al.) the development has never seized.
Photocredit: Fly Fishing nation – @flyfishingnation
Yes, it’s that time of year. We know all you salmon flyfishers are waiting for the next season and some of you are probably already going through the boxes, checking the flies, deciding on new patterns, which to keep and which need to be replenished. At least I know a few of us here are Ahrex are – OK, one at least. Me.
Today marks the official release of a brand new series of hooks that we have chosen to call XO. XO has plenty of meanings in today’s world. Our younger readers will relate it to “hugs and kisses” in text messages while our slightly, how should I put it, more seasoned customers might tend to connect it with cognac, where it signifies that a cognac has been aged for at least six years in oak barrels. We – however – use the term differently, as an abbreviation for Cross Over.
The ultimate game bird for fly tying? Maybe not, but the different feathers from a partridge are amongst the most versatile for nymphs, flymphs, wet flies, spiders and soft hackles. Soft pulsating hackles with an attractive marking that offers plenty of life and movement to the fly.
Brown Bodied Parachute tied by Jan de Haas.
We’re fly fishers and fly tiers – that’s why me make fly hooks. Being fly tiers we love quality fly tying materials (almost) as much as we love quality fly hooks. There are so many high quality materials available today that it’s hard to believe – natural materials, synthetics, furs, hairs, silicone products, rubber. But in some way the quintessential fly tying material is the feather. The simplest of modern dry flies – from the Halford-era consists on a tail of hackle fibres, a dubbed body and a front hackle. Even the very first fly in written sources mentions the use of feathers.
Dry fly fishing is fascinating and I’m quite certain that all fly fishers agree. Watching a fish slowly and confidently sip down an imitation is, for me at least, the pinnacle of fly fishing. But alas, trout don’t always rise. In fact I suppose it’s correct to say that most of the time, they don’t. If you’re a die hard dry fly fisher, you wait (and perhaps cry a little) and you stay home during the cold months. I personally love dry fly fishing for trout and grayling, but I don’t stay home during the cold months, and I don’t (always) spend a day at the river, waiting for the 45 minutes at noon when the temperature rises just enough for a short burst off insect hatches.