Monday, April 12, 2010
Ode to the Adams
Anybody can tie it, which means it turns up in various stages of gray, and in various stages of quality. There's solace for even the ham-handed tier, however. Even in its finest condition, the Adams is a bit underwhelming.
But not to trout. To trout, it's a magical meal that doesn't match exactly anything on the water, but it sure appears to be close enough. It's a classic attractor. A fly for all seasons.
Oddly enough, it was tied to match a hatch, but, according to fly fishing historian Paul Schullery, it was never actually used on the water it was created to fish. The first Adams was tied by Michigan's Leonard Halladay, who created the fly based on a description by Charles Adams in the 1930s. Adams saw the "natural" on a pond in Halladay's yard. The natural? Nobody knows, but it was likely a mayfly--perhaps a March Brown or just a big gray drake.
After giving Adams the fly to use, Adams took the fly to the nearby Boardman River (not the pond), where he determined the fly to be a "knockout." Halladay promptly named the fly the "Adams" in honor of the first man to put it through its paces. And, to this day, the Adams and the Boardman River are often mentioned in the same breath. Unfortunately, it's creator, Leonard Halladay, is hardly ever mentioned at all.
The Adams occupies a prominent spot in my dry fly box. Unlike the Elk Hair Caddis or the Blue-winged Olive, the Adams is always in the box. It's not seasonal. It's not situational. It's a necessity. In smaller sizes, it'll pass as a midge. Bigger, and it'll work during a caddis hatch. It's a great generic mayfly match.
On smaller water, where wild trout are more opportunistic than cautious, an oversized, bushy
Adams should be the first choice of any blue-lining angler. It's easy for both angler and fish to see in varied light and fast water. It might well be the perfect dry fly. I certainly think so.
But I've made one vow... no longer will I call the gray, fuzzy creation the Adams. To honor the fly's true creator, not the fellow who was fortunate enough to be the first to fish it, the fly, to me, anyway, will be called the Halladay.
After all the fish the fly has managed to catch for me, much like it did for Mr. Adams, that's the least I can do.