Say What ?

SUSPICIOUS BUGS INVADE

It's Been Some Time

the cicada visitation

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.. The neighbors and ever-alert guides from around here have noticed an increase in the cicada population. So? Fish eat them when they can. And, now they can!

.. We were alerted to the increase in these hoary bugs by long-time fly fishing guide Chris Herpin, who hoarsely whispered in our ear - "I don't know that I should tell you this, BUT, there are more cicadas this year than even you have ever seen!"
.. Often you won't see the big bugs but you will hear them. The launch ramps and lunch spots on the lowland Madison River are full of the song of the cicada.

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Click on the player to hear the song.

Image of CicadasFromMontana CM020501

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 .. The cicadas of Montana hatch every year. They sing and chirp and get eaten by fish with a gusto that would make a starving Pit Bull envious. You can read about the impending invasion HERE.
.. Chris did not reveal the flies he was using to woo the big trout on the river. He did note that nary a fly shop in the area had any cicada imitations for sale. He did say that there are some patterns in the competent fisher's boxes that will do. But there is a secret pattern making the rounds in the musty dark corners of the local pubs.

.. Should you see a group of dripping souls huddled together in out of the way places it might be a sagacious act to eavesdrop on their whispered conversation. If it's not about sex, or beer, or gas prices; it's probably about how to tie the lace-winged-wonder-pattern that takes big trout faster than a speeding minnow.
.. The fly is large, (cicadas can be 2" long.) The fly is light and casts like a dream. The fly is easy to tie and is being banged out by the virtuoso fluff artisans in town. So far we've offered bribes of significant dimensions and substance but there's no headway being made on that front.
.. Mr. Herpin suggested that there are some things that are best left unsaid and mysterious. We badgered him for a good 20 minutes but received no coherent responses. He left our presence muttering and mumbling about grizzled old farts and something called a "MEGAFUGLY." At least that's what it sounded like to our wax-laden ears.

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