Flyfishing in the quietude of winter

Today there is fresh snow on the banks of the river, no ice along the edges to speak of, and a light covering of high overcast. I’m restless. Today would be a good day to take my fly rod for a walk.

There’s an ethereal wonderment in what Gordon Lightfoot calls “the quietude of winter” in a favorite song. And there’s no way to fully experience it except to get out into it, get to a place where the incessant background noise of civilization is muted by the stillness of fresh snow and motionless air.

by Chuck Stranahan

Fly fishing in winter give me an excuse, and once I’m doing it, a purpose for being there. If I’m simply enduring it I’ve missed the mark – being ready frees me to enjoy it.

Comfort and safety – gearing up If I go out I’ll layer up, wear fingerless mitts, a full-brimmed waxwear hat to ward off any sudden snow and to keep peripheral glare at a minimum, and my darkest pair of polarized and UV protected shades.

That latter item is important: your eyes take a double whammy when you’re surrounded by the perpetual glare of snow reflecting off an unshaded riverbank.

Sunscreen also goes on the checklist. On a cold day with no par ticulate matter in the air, the double whammy of direct and reflected sunlight can give you an awful burn.

I’ll wear my studded wading boots instead of the felts; snow has a nasty way of compressing into ice on the bottom of a felt-soled boot.

Ice-on-ice is unbelievably slippery and downright dangerous footing.

I’ll take a water bottle and an insulated bottle of hot tea.

Hot tea in the bottle’s metal screw-off cup feels real nice between chilled fingers, and the warm liquid is pleasant against cold lips. Carbs, as a pocketful of dried fruit or trail mix and maybe some jerkey is a must, even on a short outing. I’ve learned to stay warm from the inside out.

And I’ll guzzle a lot of water before I hit a river trail. It’s deceptively easy to get dehydrated in the cold.

Tackle for winter

If you’re just getting started with winter flyfishing, bring whatever rod you have. I have a friend who fishes an eleven-foot three-weight nymphing rod; if there’s a choice, lean toward long and light.

Long, fine tippets are a must. I like to carry half-sizes from 5X down to 7X. Fine-tuning your tippet can give you your fly a quicker sink rate and natural movement. You can accentuate the free movement of that small underwater fly by tying it into a Duncan loop instead of using the standard clinch knot. Indicators? The rule of thumb

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for all nymphing, as far as I’m concerned, is to use no more than you need. I use Strike putty or a small pinch of New Zealand dyed wool or other fiber.

Where I need to get deep, the indicator comes off and a #8 stonefly nymph or weighted olive Wooly Bugger goes on, with the smaller fly about two feet behind the bigger one.

Basic winter flies

For flies I’ll tie up some winter midge nymph patterns on shortshanked #18 or #20 hooks. Basic red, black, olive, and tan will get me by. If a fly has a seemingly large piece of hook extending back from the body, so be it. The trout don’t seem to care.

It’s hard to find flies like that on the market. I’ve tied custom orders for the diehards or those bold enough or curious enough to try it; it’s either that or tie your own. There simply isn’t the demand for them. Not that many people get serious about winter midge fishing. Too bad – they’re missing out.

You might see trout taking small dry flies. I bring three types of dries for that eventuality, all in #18 or #20: midges, blue-winged olives, and skinny (real skinny) black stoneflies.

Experienced winter midge fishers see the trout get persnickety about fly size. If you see them on something a wee bit tinier than what you’re offering, it can be exasperating. If you’re set to go with the next smaller fly, it can be exhilarating.

From there, fish the slow edges of the current and follow your instincts – and listen for the cries of geese as they echo off the snow. That, too is part of the quietude of fly fishing in winter.

*(Includes gas stipend if you live 25 or more miles from the facility)