Flylines

The appearance of Golden Stoneflies on the Metolius is a herald of the transition from spring to summer fishing. The hatch always arrive on or slightly before the Fourth of July.

Goldens, which are sometimes mistakenly called Salmonflies, are somewhat smaller, and a bit lighter in color than their larger cousins, the true Salmonfly. Unlike the Salmonfly hatch on the Deschutes, which comes and goes rather quickly, the Golden hatch on the Metolius tends to linger, lasting through July and August and on into early September.

Such a lengthy hatch period is extremely unusual. Most texts indicate the Goldens are generally a spring hatch, often lasting no more than a week. Lucky for us, it is different here. Chalk it up as another one of those anomalies of the Metolius, like October Caddis in March and a dozen other mysteries which the river provides to keep us coming back again and again.

Prior to the hatch, the Golden Stone nymphs migrate toward the bank. At selected sites along the river they congregate waiting to ripen and hatch. At the appropriate time, under the cover of darkness, they crawl out and emerge. I've gone down at midnight with a flashlight to watch them arch their backs, split the shucks, wriggle free. The new winged adults move off and hide deep in the bushes where they strengthen their wings and rest.

There is often a period of time after the emergence has begun when there are significant numbers of insects hidden in the bushes, but there is very little sign of them flying in the air or crawling about. This can be a good fishing moment - trout tend be highly responsive. Somehow the fish see the insects on the water when we are not.

After this brief warm-up period, the hatch settles into a more normal routine. The insects are visible both in the air and on the grass. During this time I like to fish the bugs along the banks and up under the overhanging trees and brush.

Stoneflies of all types are notoriously clumsy crawlers. They tend to lose their grip and fall. Along the edge of the stream there will be a steady trickle of bugs that have dropped and fallen into the water.

While fishing this way, you won't see very many rises. The actual event of an insect falling and being captured is random enough that it is somewhat hard to observe. You tend to fish blindly, trusting in the attractive power of your Golden Stone imitation. And believe me you can trust in it because it is a very powerful motivator of fish. The insects are a large piece of protein, seldom passed by a hungry trout.

As you fish the banks, you don't want to be too judgmental about what's good holding water and what is not. Because of the steady flow of the Metolius and the fact that water levels do not go up and down too much, the banks are often highly undercut. These undercuts are excellent holding areas - little affected by the water in the main river directly in front of them. Often fish come out of very unlikely shallow swift areas along the river bank. Fish it all.

While fishing these swift banks, a downstream approach to the water is often useful. The line out in the fast moving river will travel much quicker than the fly in close to the bank. Using downstream tactics you can add slack and buffer this effect for a moment, stalling the fly in the fish's holding area. If you're casting upstream, the line comes tight immediately, often snatching the fly away before the fish has a chance to respond.

I'm looking forward to summer evenings and casting against those lush green banks along the river - the wild flowers, the birds, the beauty of the river, from time to time the reward of a native rainbow. We are lucky indeed to live in such a place.