In that eternal search for evidence of a just and beneficent God, we present for your consideration a simple insect, the damselfly.
At precisely the time when rivers are overflowing their banks and the high country remains wedged in snow and ice, this compassionate being sends relief to frustrated fishermen in the form of what may be the perfect bug.
For a period of about a month during late June and early July, it is the thing that drives fish wild in shallow lakes and ponds. Fish that appear obstinate at other times of the year suddenly play the grand fools when damsels begin moving about.
There can be no better example than that morning a couple of years ago at North Delaney Butte Lake, where a population of very large brown trout embraces a proud reputation for all-around mulishness. Expecting the usual difficulties, an angler wading deep and casting long into the lake suddenly is aware of commotion behind him.
He turns to see several big fish wallowing like pigs in shallow water, caution thrown to the wind in a feeding frenzy. There can be no doubt as to the cause. The proof is creeping up his waders, down his shirt collar, into his hair.
Through blind luck, he has wandered into the middle of a full-blown damselfly hatch. Never before or since has he found so many big brown trout so easy to catch.
Despite its high value in the seasonal food chain for several fish species, bass to trout, many fishermen pay scant attention to the damsel. In their neglect, they miss what may be the most action-packed period in the entire stillwater season.
Casual observers know it as the fairy-winged insect of the water’s edge, sparkling iridescent blue or green as it flits from leaf to twig. While this adult damsel sometimes provides exciting surface action when mating or laying eggs, it is the subsurface form that deserves the most notice.
To squeeze the most from a damsel hatch, an angler should understand the habits of this underwater bug. Like nearly all aquatic insects, action works from the bottom up. Responding to a stimulus of temperature and light, nymphs begin emerging toward midmorning from the same carpet vegetation that houses most lake bugs, midges to mayflies.
Swimming quickly, damsel nymphs make their way toward shore or to any object — log, boat or wading fisherman — that will lift them into the open air. Once exposed, they split the nymphal exoskeleton and emerge as the winged insect.
But it’s what happens on that watery journey that means most to anglers. With their swift, wiggling swimming motion, these nymphs in countless tens of thousands excite fish to a frenzy not matched by other hatches. Anglers balance the luxury of very active retrieves and stouter tippets to absorb the most aggressive strikes of the season.
It isn’t necessary to use a boat or even a float tube to enjoy the best of a damsel hatch. Fish typically crowd in close to shore to meet the greatest concentration of insects; often the best strategy is not to enter the water at all.
A brief understanding of damsel basics is in order. Nymphs come in two basic colors: olive and light brown. Olive is most common, but be prepared for the occasional alternative. These long, slender insects are best tied on a long-shank size 10 or 12 hook. The best patterns, like Charlie’s Wiggle Damsel, tied by Arvada maestro Charlie Craven, come with a jointed tail/abdomen to imitate the hyperactive swimming motion. Tied entirely with marabou, this fly continues to wiggle seductively even during pauses in the retrieve.
Anglers using light spinning gear also can enjoy damselfly success. Since distance casts aren’t required, trail a long leader behind the smallest casting bubble. The same result can be achieved with a small-to-medium split shot. Vary the retrieve until you find a pace the fish prefer.
Timing the hatch is critical. Develop an information network to determine when the action begins at a target lake. It also pays to anticipate each day’s pulse. With such abundance of these large insects, it doesn’t take long for fish to eat their fill.
Miss the peak and you’ve lost one of the great moments of the fishing season.
