Fly lines

Ephemerella Proserpina - the Green Drake. Perhaps it seems strange that a guy could wax poetic over a bug, but these creatures really are quite special and quite beautiful in their own way.

They have the a graceful long slender curved body, thin delicate tails, and tall upright slate gray wings. The thorax is a dark green, the abdomen lighter olive, with a very distinct dark green banding. On many specimens there is a splash of yellowish orange right at the base of the wing. If you handle them carefully they'll sit quietly in the palm of your hand and let you admire them from different angles and in different light.

On the water they look like miniature sailboats. They are little protein engines that drive ecosystems. The impact of these insects on the environment around them is quite remarkable.

The nymphs spend up to two years roaming the river bottom. They are a grazer type of insect; they live on plant material, algae and the organic debris that falls into the river from the surrounding forests. They convert this plant material into animal protein. By maturity they are quite stocky - a good mouthful for a trout.

It isn't until they hatch as adults that they become the driving force of the river. The mature insects float helplessly on the river surface for extended periods; drying and strengthening their wings before they take flight. Their only protection is that they come in numbers. It is nature's plan that most will be eaten, only a few will get through mate and continue the species.

It is quite a sight when the river surface is scattered with these lovely little delicate, free-floating morsels of food. The life of the river is drawn to them like a magnet. I

recall one really remarkable Green Drake hatch at the Wire Hole on the Deschutes. We were up above, maybe a half mile up river, when I first noticed the birds working the long riffle above the hole. You could see plainly that there was something going on in that area.

Even the seagulls where flying upriver, landing and then riding the large, standing waves back down into the hole. As they floated they where picking off food.

At the hole we still couldn't see clearly what was happening. We were off to the side out of the direct food lane. Still, the activity out there was bursting; song birds where flying out from the bank to capture insects; fish where slashing wildly out on the edge of the swift water.

Then I saw a stray Drake. I knew instantly what to do. With the right fly it was easy. We fished for several hours before this minor miracle died away and the hatch ended.

On the Metolius the impact of the Green Drake is even more pronounced. This hatch is the very best time to see into the heart of this most mysterious river. It is really the only time of year and the only hatch that will consistently draw the larger native rainbows out of hiding and up to the surface where they can be seen and caught.

After years and years of following the Green Drake hatches, I wait for it with great anticipation. I have seen and caught almost all of my best trout during this time. My memories are filled with visions of magnificent native trout rising and Green Drakes floating. I fish the hatch whenever I can.

I am not be rewarded on every outing. It's unpredictable when the magic moment will occur. Nonetheless somewhere sometime during the hatch period, late May through June, the minor miracle will occur - you can only hope that you're the lucky one who will be there when it happens.