Taking spiders stateside
John Shaner reveals his enduring affection for a traditional yet deadly fly pattern — the North-Country Spider
DESPITE THE never-ending deluge of “new” and “improved” trout flies, there is a fly style that has been quietly holding its own for well over two centuries. Elegant in design and deceptively simple in its construction, the North-Country Spider is one of the most effective trout-fly styles I know of.
Its native waters were the high-gradient spate rivers and becks of the northern English counties: Yorkshire, Lancashire, Westmorland, and Cumberland. Spiders were and are traditionally fished close to the surface to suggest either a hatching or distressed insect, and many of the takes are visible, just as when fishing a dry-fly.
Usually comprised of little more than a thread body and a turn or two of absorbent hackle, most commonly from a gamebird or domestic hen, the spider is a distillation — a trout fly in its simplest form. Having reached its finished state by the early 19th century, the addition of new or modern materials does not seem to improve its effectiveness. In the oft-repeated words of Antoine de Saint-Exupery: "Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away."
Part of John’s vintage collection: gut tied Orange Partridge on his copy of T.E. Pritt’s North-Country Flies.
My own spider odyssey began many years ago with the publication in 1975 of a little book by a man called Sylvester Nemes. Mr. Nemes described a “new” style of wet-fly that was simple in the extreme. He called these flies “soft hackles”, and the book was eponymously named The Soft-Hackled Fly. Nemes cited Detroit rod builder and tackle salesman, Paul Young, as being their originator after Young had sold Nemes similar flies. But through no real fault of his own, Nemes had completely missed the fact that flies identical to Young’s had been dressed and fished in England for at least a couple hundred years previously. Certain anglers better versed in fly-fishing history soon set him straight, and, to his credit, Nemes became something of a student of the true North-Country style. Indeed, in his second book, The Soft-Hackled Fly Addict (1981), he went to the trouble of reproducing the color plates from what are perhaps the two most important books pertaining to Spiders: T.E. Pritt’s North-Country Flies (1886) and Harfield Edmonds and Norman Lee’s Brook and River Trouting (1916).
Usually comprised of little more than a thread body and a turn or two of absorbent hackle, most commonly from a gamebird or domestic hen, the spider is a distillation — a trout fly in its simplest form
(Sylvester Nemes was by no means the first American to make a study of the North-Country Spider tradition. Other anglers, most notably James Leisenring, the Pennsylvania wet-fly expert, and his disciples “Pete” Hidy and Richard Clark, were thoroughly aware of spiders and adapted them to both eastern and western waters. The story of Jim Leisenring and his influence on American wet-fly techniques is far too involved to even begin to discuss here and is perhaps a subject for another time.)
Fishing a likely riffle with an Orange Partridge and Pearly Bloa on the Firehole River in Yellowstone National Park.
Andrew Flitcroft
A pretty trout taken on a spider below Bear Trap Canyon on the Madison River, Montana.
Andrew Flitcroft
When Nemes’ first two books were published, my own fishing was primarily on my home waters of the Catskill Mountains in New York State, and it was here that I first experimented with spiders with moderate success. In the mid-1980s however, my angling focus shifted to Montana and the Yellowstone Country. There I soon found that not only did the western fish relish a well-presented spider, but there was something of a “soft-hackle underground” among knowing anglers as well.
The 1990s found me living in West Yellowstone, Montana, and fishing the waters of Yellowstone National Park on an almost daily basis during the open season. I quickly discovered that on rivers like the Upper Madison and especially the Firehole, fishing a pair of spiders was usually the ticket to a memorable day. I also discovered that fishing spiders to rising fish would, on most occasions, beat more traditional dry-fly tactics. Spiders were often so effective that many of us who knew the “secret” tried to keep it to ourselves and sometimes spoke of them in almost code-like language.
I soon found that not only did the western fish relish a well-presented spider, but there was something of a “soft-hackle underground” among knowing anglers
John fishing the Colonel's Pool on the River Wharfe in Yorkshire.
There was also a certain satisfaction in using flies that would have been recognized by an English angler over 100 years previously, flies which often outfished the most modern patterns. The Orange Partridge, Waterhen Bloa, Greenwell Spider, Little Black, and Partridge and Hare’s Ear were fished with both reverence and confidence. Recently published books by Roger Fogg and Leslie Magee contributed more up-to-date information, and I found myself fishing spiders most of the time.
A good run on the Wharfe can look almost the same as one on the Firehole; the only difference being that the Firehole’s geysers and fumaroles are missing from the Yorkshire river
By the beginning of the new century, I was back in New York and the Catskills but still making annual trips to Montana and Yellowstone. I also experimented with spiders on other rivers such as Penn’s Creek and The Little Juniata in Pennsylvania and the Au Sable in Michigan, often with excellent success. Then came opportunities to fish in England on the very rivers where spiders had first evolved. Fishing the Ure and Wharfe, the Eden and Eamont, and other North-Country rivers was a revelation. What I found was that those rivers were more similar in character to the rivers of the Catskills or even the Yellowstone country than I would have imagined. A good run on the Wharfe can look almost the same as one on the Firehole; the only difference being that the Firehole’s geysers and fumaroles are missing from the Yorkshire river.
Sample pages of the author’s spiders neatly catalogued.
Early flies were heavily hackled and made from any bird the frugal northern angler could find in the field or was gifted on a shoot.
Original Snipe & Purple and Waterhen & Red spiders supplied by Miller’s Yorkshire Flies.
It was also about this time that I was able to purchase a large collection of original Yorkshire spiders and related materials from the 1880s. Now I had the real flies to study and copy. The first thing I noticed was how small the old flies were, mostly equivalent to today’s size 16 or 18. They were also more heavily hackled than modern flies, which at first was a bit puzzling but eventually made sense. The old Yorkshire anglers were frugal men and used every possible turn of a good hackle, letting each fish chew off a few fibers and thus getting more use out of a fly. And because they used such small hooks, hackles were often trimmed to size if they were too long. Nothing went to waste. Over time I acquired more North-Country flies ranging from the 1880s up to the 1960s, as well as spiders dressed by contemporary tiers. I studied variations in style and interpretations of the old patterns, and my own flies now reflect the design elements I like while keeping the character of the originals; I am quite content with the results.
My journey with the spider has spanned more than four decades and, I hope, isn’t over yet; I’m still learning more about them every year. Many other fly-fishers have discovered spiders and there are lively online communities, websites, and blogs devoted to tying and fishing them.
Spiders aren’t the only fly style or method I use, but fishing with them can be liberating. Sometimes I love the simplicity of being able to pare my tackle down to just the essentials of rod, reel, and a small box of trusted patterns. Like any fly, spiders have their times and places and are neither a panacea nor infallible, although they can produce amazing results under the right conditions. Besides, isn’t it comforting to know that the trout hasn’t changed and will still respond to a nearly timeless fly style?
Six of John’s favorite spiders
ORANGE PARTRIDGE Hook Size 14-16 Body Orange silk thread (gold wire rib is optional) Hackle Well-marked feather from the back of a partridge
PARTRIDGE AND HARE'S EAR Hook Size 14-16 Rib Fine gold wire Body Orange silk thread lightly dubbed with fur from ear or forehead of a European hare Hackle Well-marked feather from the back of a partridge
BLACK SPIDER Hook Size 16-20 Thread Black silk thread Body Body or neck feather from a common starling, preferably the male bird (dressed with a black hen hackle and silver wire rib, this fly becomes the Williams’ Favorite)
SNIPE AND PURPLE Hook Size 16-20 Body Purple silk thread Hackle Feather from the wing bow of the common snipe
HARE'S LUG AND PLOVER Hook Size 14-18 Rib Fine gold wire Body Yellow silk dubbed with fur from between a hare’s ears Hackle Feather from the wing bow of a golden plover
WATERHEN BLOA Hook Size 14-18 Body Yellow silk dubbed lightly with grey mole fur so that the silk shows through Hackle From the wing bow of a waterhen or a substitute such as the body feather of a California quail or a dark-dun hen neck feather
Notes on materials
Pages of sample materials from William Brumfitt in 1908, part of John’s collection.
Bird species whose plumage was once commonly used to dress flies, such as raptors, owls, and songbirds, are now either protected by law, and rightly so, or simply no longer harvested for food or sport
Modern fly dressers seeking to reproduce classic North-Country Spiders from the patterns published in the 19th century will run into difficulties finding the original materials the authors called for. At that time there were none of the shops we have today, selling everything needed to tie flies from one convenient location. Instead, one needed to gather one’s own components wherever they could be found. A quick scan of North-Country fly patterns will reveal that most of the feathers and furs came from birds and mammals found in local fields, forests, and farmyards. The fly dresser of yesteryear was a scrounger; always keeping an eye open for a feather with just the right shade of color or fur of the perfect texture. Bird species whose plumage was once commonly used to dress flies, such as raptors, owls, and songbirds, are now either protected by law, and rightly so, or simply no longer harvested for food or sport, making it difficult, if not illegal, to collect the actual feathers used in bygone times. Fortunately, most of the essential feathers are still easily available, these being partridge, grouse, starling, and domestic hen. Some of the less-common species such as plover and snipe still turn up on occasion and can be purchased legally. (If you are unsure of the legality of any fly-dressing material, err on the side of caution and pass it up.) Legal substitutes for other materials can be found. For instance, California quail makes a nearly indistinguishable stand-in for the once common waterhen. Lacking quail, a dark-dun hen feather will solve the problem, as will the shoulder feathers from a teal. Don’t be afraid to experiment with any small, soft, absorbent feathers you may already have.
Game birds are a primary source of spider hackles. Here the feathers from the back of an English partridge.
Silk and threads
For over 150 years the traditional tying silk was Pearsall’s Gossamer. Sadly, production ended nearly 15 years ago and what stocks remain are rapidly dwindling. Aficionados sometimes spend large sums of money for a single spool of the rarer colors. Happily, there is an excellent French silk being sold under the Ephemera brand at a very reasonable price. Modern synthetics will also work perfectly for fishing flies, as I have proven to myself over the years. One suggestion I would make is to use a heavier diameter thread to reduce the number of turns needed to form the body of the fly.
The original Pearsall’s Silk — if you see it, snap it up!
Hooks
The traditional spider hooks used in the 19th century were primarily “sneck” (square) bends — a shape almost never seen today. They were also much smaller in size and quite light in the wire. Nor did they have eyes like modern hooks. The horsehair or silkworm gut snells were connected directly to the hook during the tying process. For my own spiders, I long ago settled on TMC Model 3769 as my go-to hook and I’ve used it with total satisfaction since it first came on the market in the 1980s. The shape and diameter are both excellent, and it’s exceptionally strong. It’s an ideal spider hook in sizes 12-18. Of course, I have experimented with and used other hook brands and models, both contemporary and antique, and there are many excellent choices available.
The author's simple spider box with flies intact and easy to dry out, avoiding rust.
Fly storage
One last note. The traditional and time-honored method of carrying spiders was in a fly wallet with the individual flies hooked into felt pages. Certainly, this makes a fine display when the flies are new, but unless they have been carefully dried beforehand, used flies returned to the felt pages have a nasty habit of rusting, ruining both the hook and dressing. Long ago I switched to simple compartment boxes as a better alternative. The flies aren’t crushed, hold their natural shape, and when replaced after use will dry much faster.
PHOTOGRAPY: JOHN SHANER/ROBERT SMITH
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Shaner
A native of Upstate New York, John Shaner has been a devoted angler, fly tier, and amateur fishing historian since boyhood. John spent most of his working career in the fly-fishing industry and has traveled extensively in pursuit of trout. He now lives in the Western Catskill Mountains, just a short walk from his favorite river, the West Branch of the Delaware.
