A couple of summers ago, hunched over my tying vise high in the Caribou National Forest, I diverted from my usual Stimulator recipe and kind of went rogue. There were two reasons for my deviation. First, I realized that I’d finally reached an advanced enough age to where my eyesight — even with corrective lenses — was impacting my ability to see dry flies intended for the cutthroats I’d spent a couple of days chasing. Second, I’d just refilled a giant insulated cup with my third vodka and Sprite Zero cocktail, and my brain was just altered enough to consider something different.
Tying flies you can see
by Chris Hunt - Wednesday, May 29th, 2024