First Bass On My Hand Tied Flies

Recently, I dusted off my fly rod after a 10 year hiatus. I spent a majority of my formative years chasing largemouth bass and panfish using fly rods and topwater, popping bugs. Along with my resurging interest in fly fishing, I began tying my own flies. I am ever searching for challenges and techniques to obsessively plunge myself into. Tying, and throwing, large, baitfish imitation streamers is very much like fishing the large swimbait imitations I use on conventional tackle. With a few simple materials and common tools from my garage I crafted a tacklebox full of traditional, and non traditional, patterns to woo, weary river bass. With flies in hand, I hit a small flow with friend and fly fishing mentor Josh Tidwell. Together, we floated a small river known for my favorite species: huge, river run spotted bass. 

I beached my Jackson SUPerFISHal below a rocky shoal for a rest from a stiff paddle upstream and chance to do some fly casting from shore. I opened my fly box and selected a bucktail, hackle and flash deceiver I tied on a whim only hours ago. 

The big streamer pulsated and undulated in the water like a living, breathing entity begging to be slammed  by a vicious spotted bass. I thoroughly worked the swift water below the shoals with no takers. Picking up my line I waded up to the pushwater above the shoals and laid a nice, looping cast across the rushing water. Fast, long strips had the streamer darting and pulsing down the rocky riffle like a shad fighting for sheer existence. Suddenly, the white streamer disappeared into a golden, green flash that jolted my rod and bolted upstream. I hammered the fish with a strip-set and the aerial, acrobatic display was fitting my first bass on my hand tied flies.  A round of pictures was followed by the retirement of this precious, first fly; a must for all fly tiers. 

Building momentum, I picked up several short fish on some clousers of my own design. I was in the zone, standing and casting from my ultra-stable  paddle board, laying my flies under overhanging branches, and drawing strikes, follows and interest from many fish. Suddenly, my world was put on its head. I roll casted a clouser under an overhanging tree and the largest spotted bass I have ever seen annihilated my fly. This fish far outclassed the 21” 5 pound personal best I landed months ago on this same flow. I strip set into a brick wall, a southbound semi that gave no ground, dove, pulled, shook her massive head…then my line suddenly went limp. She had broken off a 20 pound floro tippet and drove a dagger into my heart. I was physically ill. There is no worse feeling in the world than seeing your dreams fade into the depths. We floated downriver as casted and moaned and went through the motions of fishing. My companion hooked his first decent fish of the trip and I played camera man snapping some great pictures with my phone. 

After the release, I eyed his fly selection and tied on a coyote, a clouser with a small spinner blade, to match his flashy fly called a rollex. Three casts later I hooked and landed a nice 3 pound class spot. She didn’t heal the wound left by the lost giant, but it surely helped and put a positive ending to a wonderful, terrible trip I will surely never forget.