Pinch down every barb, no argument
Okay. You've got the clinch knot in your fingers now, or at least you've got the first half of it, so let's talk about the other end of that line, the actual hook.
Here's the thing. This one isn't a suggestion for me. Every hook that goes on my line gets the barb pinched down flat, no exceptions, and I want you doing the same thing before you ever step in the water.
What a barb even does
The barb is that little backward kink near the point of the hook. It's there so the hook doesn't slide back out of whatever it's stuck in. Great if you want to make real sure a fish stays hooked. Less great when "whatever it's stuck in" turns out to be your ear, your finger, your jacket sleeve, or the guy standing next to you.
I'm not being dramatic here. I hooked my own ear on maybe the fifth or sixth time I ever went out. Barbless hook, thank goodness, so it came out with barely a wince and I still had a little Sunday School class the next morning without anybody noticing. If that had been a barbed hook I'd have been headed to urgent care instead, and probably telling a much less funny version of that story. I tell people about it a lot because it worked. Lesson learned, permanently.
How to pinch one down
You don't need anything fancy. Needle-nose pliers or hemostats, the kind you can get cheap at any sporting goods aisle, or honestly a pair of pliers from your garage will do in a pinch (no pun intended, or a little bit intended).
- Hold the hook by the bend, so your fingers are nowhere near the point.
- Find the barb. Little bump sticking up just behind the hook point.
- Clamp the pliers right on the barb and squeeze it flat against the shank.
- Run your finger along it gently, not hard, just check. If it still catches your fingernail, squeeze again.
- That's it. Do this to every fly before it goes in your box, not the night before you need it.
Some flies you buy at the store already have barbless hooks, and that's worth asking about when you're shopping. But I don't trust it. I check every single one myself, even ones marked barbless, because I'd rather spend ten seconds confirming than find out the hard way in the middle of the Provo.
Why I don't budge on this
I feel like some people hear "barbless" and think it's for people who are precious about the fish. It's not, or not only. It's for you. A barbless hook comes out of skin, out of clothing, out of a tree branch, out of a fish's mouth, so much easier than a barbed one. Less damage all around. If you're doing catch and release, which I'd gently steer you toward on the Provo, a barbless hook also means the fish spends less time out of the water while you work the hook loose. Everybody wins except maybe your ego, because barbless hooks do let a fish shake free a little more often. I've made peace with that trade.
A quick word on the flies themselves
I should say plainly, I'm not great at matching exact bugs to exact hatches. That's real entomology and some people love that part of it, more power to them. I mostly go with a handful of patterns that work most of the time and ask somebody at the fly shop when I'm stumped. So don't feel behind if you can't tell a Blue-Winged Olive from a Pale Morning Dun yet. Trout are not that picky most days.
Which reminds me. I tried tying my own fly once at the kitchen table, humming away, thinking I really had something going, and what came off my vise looked like, in Tricia's exact words, "a bug that lost a fight." Rough. Uneven. Honestly a little sad looking. I almost didn't even bother trying it on the water. Took it up the canyon anyway just to see, and a fish ate it first cast. I still keep that fly in my box. Good reminder that trout are not art critics, and neither is the river. It doesn't care how tidy your knot looks or how professional your fly looks, as long as the barb's down and the hook holds.
Before next time
Grab whatever flies you've already got, or a few cheap ones from the store, and pinch every single barb flat before our next class. Bring your pliers too, because we'll be doing this together on the ones you're not sure about.