California Super Hatches
Hatches
Without a doubt, Hat Creek has the most multifarious hatch situations I have ever witnessed. It has all of the major hatches Salmonflies, Golden Stones, Little Yellow Stones, PMDs, BWOs, Callibaetis, and many caddis species.
The combination of a tribe of highly educated trout, and simultaneously occurring hatches makes it a challenge for any angler.
Fishing Hat Creek has fostered memorable days of matching the hatch, and also days I would rather forget. Hat is famous for its many small-size, complex meadow hatches, but also has simultaneous super hatches of large stoneflies that begin about May 1 and last through June. Luckily in a multi-hatch situation, trout frequently prefer the largest insects, and the presence of big stoneflies can sometimes make you feel as though you’ve “solved” Hat Creek’s problematic hatches.
Golden Stones and Salmonflies migrate to the shallows in March and April and hatch mostly during the month of May. The nymphs crawl onto the streamside rocks and vegetation, where they emerge from their shucks and then find refuge. They mate in the streamside vegetation that often overhangs the river and, later, the females return to the water and drag their abdomens on the surface to release their eggs.
Trout key on stoneflies through this entire process. They are clumsy fliers and frequently crash into the water. They are also apparently poor clingers and crawlers, because any gust of wind sends them airborne or knocks them directly to the water, where they crawl along the surface and helplessly flail their wings.
Stones prefer fast, oxygenated water, and the most intense hatches on Hat Creek are in the two major riffle areas, but all the trout in the creek are aware of their presence, and stonefly imitations also catch trout in the meadows.
During stonefly season, I usually get to the river in late morning and cruise the high banks and bluffs so I can scan a large portion of the creek to locate active feeders. When I spot rising trout, I work my way down into a strategic position to present my fly. There are frequently multiple hatches going on, so the fish generally show themselves even if there aren’t stoneflies on the water at that moment.
Many times I take up to 20 minutes planning, sneaking, and strategically probing the most secure feeding lies for big trout. These close encounters usually end in explosive tugs-of-war and I’m reminded of the adage “It’s better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.”
There are no set rules for this game. The position of the fish and many other factors dictate your cast, but I usually try to drop the fly about a foot above the trout with an upstream reach cast for a dead-drift presentation.
If there is no response, try twitching the fly to give the illusion of life. If there is still no interest after several more casts, change flies.
Stonefly egg-laying flights take place mostly at dark, and the hour after sunset in the lower riffles can be wild. Hat Creek is known for finicky trout, long leaders, and tiny flies, but when the sun drops and stones are skittering on the water, you can cut your leader back to 4X and watch trout recklessly c
rash your #4-6 patterns.
Living Insects
To be successful, you must fish your fly like a living insect, and tie patterns that appear alive to the trout. Even though adult stoneflies appear to lie flat with their wings at rest, egg-laying females or unfortunate adults struggling toward shore always flutter their wings. This movement is an important trigger.
As a result, I tie patterns with foam; stiff saddle hackle; and hollow deer, elk, and moose hair so they ride high and can be skittered without drowning. I use plenty of rubber legs to emulate the movement of the insect.
Fall River
(Hexagenia limbata)
After several years of visiting, fishing, and eavesdropping on local conversations, I figured out that there was a hatch of large mayflies on the lower Fall River around twilight. Local fly fishers called it a Green Drake mayfly, and this errant identification became part of local folklore.
When I first fished the hatch 35 years ago, I bought locally tied Fall River Green Drakes at a nearby sporting goods store. Armed with flies that looked like yellow-ribbed #8 Parachute Adams, I headed to Glenburn with a few friends for an evening event that had taken on mystical dimensions.
The hatch came off after sunset, and the local flies caught a few fish, but the huge mayflies were not Green Drakes. They are Hexagenia limbata, and they cause spectacular feeding frenzies by 16- to 22-inch trout.
River Tour
The Fall River rises from springs and small tributaries near Dana, California. It flows for about a mile before it becomes a navigable float river, though it has private banks and limited access. Below Spring Creek Bridge it is referred to as the Middle River. There, the river slows, widens, and flows through oxbows for close to 4 miles before passing under Island Road Bridge at the CalTrout Access, which provides the only public boat-launching facility.
This is the top end of the Hex habitat. Four-plus miles below Island Road Bridge, the river merges with the Tule River. This slow, deep, and mysteriously weedy section meanders another six miles to the Fall River Reservoir.
The Hex hatch starts just above the reservoir in the first week of June. As temperatures rise, the hatch works its way upstream to the confluence of the Tule River by mid-June, and upstream to the Islands Road section from late June to July 4.
Life Cycle
Hexagenia limbata is the largest North American mayfly, with nymphs more than an inch long at maturity. They live in U-shaped burrows in the silty bottoms, mud banks, and back-eddies of slow, meandering streams.
When they reach maturity, the nymphs abandon their burrows at twilight and swim to the top with a undulating quickness.
Emerging Hexes are slow to hatch. They labor to split and unfold out of their shucks, which they ride as they flutter their wings to dry them until they are ready for flight.
The slow pockets along the grass banks of the Fall River trap the shucks, holding the evidence that a recent hatch has taken place.
I slowly patrol the banks, searching for these telltale shucks. When I locate a promising stretch, I anchor or slowly float parallel to the shore, keeping a minimum distance of 30 feet while I cast blindly along the banks. When the hatch starts, I anchor up on an obvious and consistent pod of gulpers.
Position your boat to look toward the western horizon for the best light. It helps to silhouette the fly on the water surface. I set up multiple rods in the boat so that when tangles or breakoffs occur, it’s easy to pick up another rod and cast.
This hatch is short but furiously active, and it doesn’t pay to tie knots in the fading light.
The hatch varies in intensity from evening to evening. I’ve caught some of my best trout on evenings following a massive hatch, when the bugs were sparser, and it’s easier for the trout to pick out your fly.
Always skitter your flies to mimic the cumbersome antics of the naturals. The big mayflies launch off the surface quickly when there is a breeze; their wings dry fast and receive a lift from each gust. The trout respond by briskly grabbing them before they can escape, and in these cases a skittering fly works best.
If, instead, you experience splashy rises and no hookups with a skittering dry fly, strip a cripple imitation just below the surface. Lower the rod tip to the water, use a quick strip to jerk the cripple subsurface, then strip quickly with three fast pulls—about 6 inches each. Stop the fly, then repeat. It’s often deadly.
If a submerged cripple fails, try an emerger or nymph on a floating line and retrieve it using a series of six rapid 2-inch strips. Keep the rod tip low to the water, and try and set the hook with the line hand and a slight lift with the butt of the rod.
Flies
Hex-x-cripples, Flutter Glow Cripples, and Lime Light Hexagenias (#6-8) are my best struggling-adult patterns for this hatch. Hex flies should have highly visible wings of white, yellow, or chartreuse to show up well at dark. Swim a #6-8 Hex Emerger when the fish refuse dry flies and seem to be bulging just under the surface.
I’m commonly asked about the apparently two different sizes of adults during this hatch.
These are not two different species, but males and females of the same species. This size difference exists in most mayfly species, but it becomes radically apparent when the mayflies are this large.
This may explain why it helps to carry two sizes. There have been nights when a #6 seems to do better than a #8. This is particularly true when the fishing pressure is increased or there are lots of insects to choose from.
Bob Quigley is one of the most innovative fly tiers on the West Coast. R. Valentine Atkinson (valatkinson.com) has worked closely with Fly Fisherman for more than two decades. His most recent book is Friends on the Water Fly
Fishing in Good Company (Stewart, Tabori & Chang, 2007).
Copyright © 2012 Intermedia Outdoors
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