By Michael Fitzsimmons
In 25 years fly fishing, I’ve only experienced two bona fide green drake hatches. The second time I witnessed one of these hatches it was spectacular, the stuff of legends.
Green drakes are large mayflies that, under the right conditions, hatch in huge numbers and send trout into feeding frenzies. It happened for me one afternoon at about 8,750 feet of elevation on a Colorado river. The left bank hugged the base of a mountain ridge and the right bank opened onto a flat meadow of grasses and wildflowers. It was hot and windy—a tough day for fishing dry flies, but I’m a stubborn dry-fly bigot. I refused to nymph and hadn’t caught a single fish until the weather changed. Clouds floated over the ridge and the temperature and pressure dropped. A bright-white flash and instantaneous rumble sent me toward the truck, but on the way I spotted a small green drake just as it was annihilated by a frisky brown trout.
I hurried to tie on a Colorado Green Drake and caught a brown on my first cast. My second cast was taken as soon as it hit the water—a nice rainbow. By then, drakes were all over the surface and the trout were feeding without hesitation. One trout went airborne, and I swear it was looking for the next green drake on its way back down.
It was dry-fly heaven fishing my 7.5-foot “Perfectionist” bamboo rod (made by “Preacher Jim” Beasley, of Crossville, Tenn.) and a green drake tied on 5X tippet. But over the ridge came ominous blue-tinged storm clouds. The pyrotechnics began immediately, with lightning pinging down all around me.
Seeking safe haven, I dove into a shallow creek bed that emptied into the river. Elk, deer and bear tracks had beaten down the bed and formed foot-high banks. It was muddy but much safer. At first, it was too dangerous to even sit up, so I lay in the mud and watched the hatch, which was still in full swing.
Eventually, the lightning lessened, and I was able fish. Once, two fish—a rainbow and a brown—came from opposite directions and arrived at my fly at the same time. A violent collision of noses ensued, and both fish quickly retreated. My drake was partially submerged after impact, but a different brown appeared, circled once, and daintily took the fly. He was not happy when I hooked him!
Once, I was surprised when my drake drifted almost back to me without a strike. Just as I was picking up the fly to cast again, an upstream brown came like a freight train. It took the fly on the uptake, went airborne and hit me in the chest. When you get nailed in the chest by a 16-inch brown, it’s gotta be a green drake hatch!
This short-story (copyrighted by the author) and many other true-life fly fishing adventures can be found in Michael Fitzsimmons’ book “Adventures of a Dry-Fly Junkie”, available only on Amazon. Contact the author at dry_fly_junkie@hotmail.com.
