Cicada Postscript

I worked up a cicada imitation this afternoon using what materials I had at hand. I was eager to try it out, so as soon as Kim got home from school I headed for Yellowwood.

It had been raining all day, and it was raining when I got there.

 As soon as I kicked out into the lake it quit.

I worked down the shoreline with various flies, on top and down below. I got one or two sniffs from small bluegill.

When I arrived at the place I had caught three bass in a row I tied on the cicada. There were no bass there this time, but on down a ways I put the fly right next to the weed line, as I was doing, and gave it a good twitch or two. There was a swirl and a good take. It was a nice bass. Just what I was looking for. So I wondered: did it think the fly was a cicada? No way to tell, really.

I continued fishing down the shoreline. I plopped the fly next to the weeds and before I could twitch it a fish sucked it in. No splash, no hit, just an efficient, no-nonsense capture of prey. It was a strong fish, and turned out to be the best bass of the year so far.

Now I was thinking that two bass in short order may indeed be an indication that they know what a cicada looks like, they like to eat them, and my fly fooled them. Well, that's what I like to think anyway.

It's a relatively simple fly. Black deer hair for the body, black rubber legs, copper crystal flash for the wings, and fluorescent orange thread to give an impression of the red eyes. What I need to improve the fly are some orange legs, red plastic rods for making eyes, and maybe a lighter wing material.

Still, I couldn't be happier with this version's performance. If you tie flies you know the deep satisfaction that comes with getting up from the vise with a fly you designed and tied and going out and catching just the fish you were hoping to catch.

I crossed over to the other side. I had gotten to the lake later than usual, and the heavy overcast would mean early dark, so my time was limited.

I fished the cicada, hoping for more bass, but the bluegill liked it too. It seemed that every other fish would inhale the fly, meaning I would have to take the time to perform surgery with the hemostats.

I finally ran out of time and made the long kick back to the boat ramp. It was full dark when I got there.

Just as I got to the truck and began to load up the rain started again.