interviews

Interview with Dave Hughes

By Scott Richmond

Dave Hughes is the most prolific author of fly fishing books in the history of the sport. We ask this world-famous expert, "how can a fly fisher become a better angler?"

ave Hughes is one of Oregon's--and Amerca's--best known fly anglers. He has penned many articles for fishing magazines such as Field and Stream and Fly Fisherman. He is currently a regular columnist with both Fly Rod and Reel and Flyfishing magazines.

In addition to his magazine work, Dave is the most prolific author of books on fly fishing in the history of the sport. Titles include Deschutes, Western Hatches, Western Streamside Guide, Wet Flies, and Big Indian Creek.

Dave grew up in Astoria, Oregon, and now lives in Portland with his wife Masako and their two-year-old daughter Kosmo. A few days before I talked to him, Dave had just finished the manuscript for a monumental book on trout flies.

Westfly: So Dave, how does it feel to be done with such a big book?

Hughes: It feels great!

What's next?

I don't know, but it's not going to be like this last project. No more huge books. I'm goin' fishin' and get some R&R.

Sounds good. Most of your fishing is for trout, right?

That's right. Ninety-five percent of my fishing is fly fishing for trout in rivers and lakes. I rarely go steelheading anymore, but sometimes I'll go after smallmouth bass.

You've taught a lot of classes on fly fishing, and you've seen a lot of anglers on the rivers and lakes of the West. How do you think most fly fishers could improve? How could they become better fly anglers?

Two words: Observation and Experience.

Let's take a look at that first element, observation. When an angler arrives at the water's edge, what should he or she look for first?

Before you even start looking, think about the time of year. Trout are doing different things in February than they are in July. A lot of things go into this. For example, water temperature, which affects metabolism, can dictate the type of water fish are found in as well as how responsive they are. Also, the types of insects and other food that are available change with time of year. So if it's mid-May on the Deschutes, there's a good chance the trout will be near the banks.

Taking salmonflies?

Not yet. They're in the shallow water nailing migrating stonefly nymphs. But not always. If there's a caddis hatch, they may forget all about the stoneflies and gorge on caddis pupae. But knowing what the trout are doing in each season gives you a starting point, a place to begin observing what's going on.

What other seasonal factors are there?

Well, you have to keep your eyes on the weather, because weather conditions interact with seasonal influences. For example, if it's August and it's been very hot, and a cool rain shower passes through, the water temperature may drop just enough to turn on the trout. But if that same shower came down in February, what fishing you may have had can dissappear in a hurry.

So the season a major factor, but it's effects can be altered by the weather.

Right. You consider the weather in the context of the season.

What else do you look for?

If season and weather suggest it, start looking for rising trout. It seems obvious to say that, but you'd be surprised how many people blast right past rising trout.

I see it all the time, especially anglers in boats. They cruise by looking for rises along the bank, don't see any big splashes in the five-second glance they give it, and keep moving. They miss a lot of feeding trout.

Exactly. It's tough to spot fish when you're moving. You have to stop, squat down, and keep still. A lot of rises are very very subtle. Water conditions can play a role, too.

How so?

Think of the Crooked River in winter, the six miles below Bowman Dam. The river is rocky, slow moving, and often turbid. But it's full of fish, over 6,000 per mile, and the afternoon Baetis hatch is very reliable. When I go there, I know something is going to happen. Spotting the best places aren't always easy, though. You have to stop and stare at the water a long time to see what's going on. The water's cool and the river's slow, so the trout take their time when they rise. And the trout aren't huge, so they don't move a lot of water. Also, the bank is low, so you're right down on the fish's level; it's not like the Deschutes, where a high bank often gives you an advantage when you're trying to spot trout. Throw in muddy water, and it's tough to see what's really going on when you're fishing the Crooked River. Most anglers walk the bank looking for rising fish . . . . and walk right on past them. If they'd take the time to stop and look at one spot for ten minutes, they'd be amazed at what they'd see.

That's hard to do sometimes--to stop and do nothing.

Yeah, I know. If you've been cooped up in an office for three weeks and they just let you out to do some fishing for an evening, it's hard not to go wild when you get to the river. My friend Rick Hafele has some good advice there. He says that when you first get to the river you should charge out and fish hard for an hour, just to get it out of your system. Then slow down and start looking around and thinking about what's going on. You'll catch most of your fish after that first hour. It's like a phase you have to go through. My wife Masako is Japanese and writes about fly fishing for the Japanese press. Through her I've met a lot of Japanese fly anglers. They're good observers because they're patient and they appreciate subtlety. Unfortunately, they don't always know what to look for or how to interpret what they see because they don't get enough experience on the water.

That brings up the other point you made: experience. It seems that being an experienced angler makes you a better observer because you know what to look for.

That's right.

But how does an angler get more experience? What sort of experience is best?

My advice to anyone starting out fly fishing is to pick one part of one stream and fish it often. There's a tendency to want to go to the big waters, the places with big fish and big names.

I've met more than a few people who bought their first fly rod, and immediately headed for the Metolius or the Williamson.

Two of the toughest rivers in Oregon to fish well. Or they go to Montana, which can also be pretty hard fishing. Even the Deschutes doesn't welcome you with open arms. The best thing to do is to go somewhere that's close by and has lots of fish. The trout may be small, but the main thing is that are lots of them. If you go to the same place all the time, you see it under different conditions. It gives you a feeling for how streams work and how fish behave. And when you have lots of fish, you get a lot of feedback about whether you're doing the right thing or not.

I know what you mean. When I first started fly fishing seriously, there were two small creeks in Washington I went to, near the Columbia River Gorge. Neither one was terribly productive. Most fish were 5-7 inches. But there were lots of them. I caught and released hundreds of trout that summer, not one of which was bigger than ten inches. But I learned where fish hold, how to read water, mend line, get a drag free drift . . . all the basics. Before that I'd fished the Deschutes a few times without much success. After a season on those two small creeks, I went back to Deschutes and started catching a lot of very nice trout. All of sudden, I knew where they'd be and how to present a fly. But even when I started fishing the Deschtues, I only went to one place--South Junction--for two years. I knew that water like the back of my hand. Then I branched out and fished the rest of the river. And it all seemed familiar, even if I'd never been there before.

You probably learned to act on your hunches. I'm a big believer in angler's hunches. The more experience you have, the better your hunches are. Follow your intuition. One good way to develop your intuition is to ask yourself when you hook a fish: where was that fish lying? Why was it there?

But what do you do when you're not catching fish?

If nothing's coming to your fly, then you should re-observe, and re-think. It's also important to know what your options are. That's where you can take advantage of time off the stream. Read books and magazine articles, join a fly fishing club and talk to experienced anglers, rent some videos.

What about the Internet?

I don't know a damn thing about the Internet. Maybe you can get some good information there. Anyway, the more things you have in your bag of tricks, the better off you are. Know how to fish bank water, how to present a dry fly under the alders, how to fish nymphs with an indicator or without, when to use streamers, different kinds of midge presentations, etc. Of course, it's one thing to read about how to do something, and another to do it.

You have to really try it out.

Exactly. Do it until it clicks. I once wrote an article about soft hackle flies for Field and Stream. A reader--a teenager--wrote to the editor that he'd read the article and tried soft hackles for two hours and hadn't caught a single trout; he figured that Dave Hughes guy was full of BS and why did a reputable magazine publish such useless garbage.

Ah, youth. I love soft hackles, by the way. I used to catch a lot of fish with them on the Deschutes, but I haven't used them much lately. I just seem to tie on other flies. No reason for it, though.

Well, we can get in ruts sometimes. Soft hackles work great on the Deschutes, but once I fished the river in June with Sylvester Nemes, who was responsible for the revival of soft hackle flies in the US. Syl insisted on using his soft hackles, although it was the height of the salmonfly season and all the trout wanted that day were big orange dry flies on top or big black nymphs on the bottom. He didn't catch any fish until he stopped using the soft hackles. If he'd been there in July he might have caught a dozen big fish on his favorite flies.

Yeah, well, sometimes when you've had a long career and have caught a ton of trout, you decide you're going to do things a certain way regardless of what the your observations and your experience tell you.

It's called orneriness.

So Dave, where are you going to cast your flies next?

Chile. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow for three-and-a-half weeks. I'll be teaching some classes on fly fishing and entomology. And doing a little fishing.

And observing?

And getting more experience.

Adios!

Scott Richmond is Westfly's creator and Executive Director. He is the author of eight books on Oregon fly fishing, including Fishing Oregon's Deschutes River (second edition).

Uploaded 03/15/1998.

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