Monthly Archives: May 2019

Fly of the Month – The Bunny Leech

J. Stockard Pro Tyer: Erik Svendsen, Provo, UT

The Bunny Leech is a pattern that has been around for a long time.  It wasn’t until I saw Pete’s (@Blueriverflies) Spawn Head version that it caught my interest and made me want to tie it and fish it.  With any pattern, I love to over-complicate it and add more flash and materials.  I really wanted to make this look even more minnow like by adding the white belly and speckled guinea, and who doesn’t like flash on a minnow.

If you are using Blank Spawn Heads, there is a tutorial on how to paint them here:

So enjoy and tie some up. The fish can’t resist them.


I Am Not Addicted To Fly Fishing (at least I am pretty sure)

Guest Blogger: Joe Dellaria, Woodbury MN

It’s a subtle undertone that is always there. Questions like, “You are going fishing, again?” The question would be ok, even with the “again” at the end of the question. It’s when you hear the question and the again is drawn out, like “agaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin?” with a touch of resignation at the end.

When friends ask how my weekend was and I say happily, “Great!”

They ask, “Oh, you went trout fishing agaiiiiiiin?” more…

Down Channel

Guest Blogger: Michael Vorhis, author of ARCHANGEL suspense thriller, OPEN DISTANCE adventure thriller & more to come

Pre-dawn, but the gate had been left open…and the hatchery gate was too, so I parked up near there and walked through, arriving at the river’s edge as high as a person is allowed–any further and I’d be in the dam release zone. The sky was brightening but I’d beaten the sun to the water by 20 minutes. The 5-weight 9-foot rod I’d made for myself the previous winter balanced nicely in my hand, flexing a little like I imagined a split bamboo classic might flex. I tied a little cased caddis worm of my own tie onto the 6x tippet and stepped in. Cold water drew a shiver right through the waders, but I knew the early June chill would soon dissipate.

Figure 1 — Headwater

A narrow tongue of swift flow needed crossing if I was to get to more comfortably wadable water, and that required some care. Below it was a hole six feet deep and a bit of a haystack standing wave atop it; I did not want to take a swim through that. I had no wading staff but made a mental note to buy one someday, hoping that commitment would be sufficient to save me on this morning. Shuffle one foot, then the other; keep as thin to the current as a man’s profile would allow…inches at a time…don’t lunge…almost across. To free up my arms for better balance, I got rid of the leader between my fingers by casting the fly up ahead of me, into a shallow pour-over against a little shoal. The loose end wouldn’t distract me now…shuffle again, and…uh…BUMP BUMP! Of all the…some early morning trout trying to interrupt my concentration here with a take on my fly! I did the right thing by allowing myself to miss the take, instead focusing on finding a surer foothold. My path shallowed and I climbed onto a gravel bank, now only ankle deep, past the danger. I stood at the edge of the shoal over which I had just cast. more…