Recently I happened across some fly tying instructions; I forget the fly. But I didn’t forget that it was categorised as a ‘guide fly’. This grabbed my attention. What did it mean?

Well, in the context it was intended to mean that it was quick to tie. Presumably because a fishing guide is perpetually having to replenish fly boxes emptied by wayward-casting clients.

In that context, simple = dumbed down.

But it reminded me of another saying – “some flies catch fish, some catch fishers”.
At a guess, a guide’s reputation is 90% graded on their clients landing trout, ideally sizeable ones. They’re not going to dumb down flies to the extent that they don’t work! Instead, these ties are built so they’re just right – good enough to work, most of the time, without unnecessary build cost and time. A minimum viable product, if you will.

In this context, simple = efficient, effective

Watching and reading about those adept in the art of fly tying, I was at first drawn in amazement to the skill to tie the most complex and colourful creations. And creating something with feathers can feel like alchemy at times. But I soon came to understand the difference between tying for ‘flash’ and tying for fish.

Dozens if not hundreds of hare and copper and pheasant tail variations later, I still find joy in producing these simplest of flies. I also learned early that some of the ones that looked crap to me were gobbled just as greedily. So long as they look buggy when wet, and they’re drifted through the right spot, they will be successful.

I’m no guide, but it turns out I tie a lot of guide flies. It may not be as pretty, but a box of simple and subdued flies of various sizes and weights will usually out-fish the beauty box.