Man, if there's one dry fly that's saved my bacon more times than I can count, it's the Elk Hair Caddis. You know those days when trout are just sipping bugs off the surface like they're at some fancy buffet? This bad boy's your ticket.

So how we make this thing - it's kinda simple really. Grab a short hook (size 12-16 usually does it), wrap some dubbing - rabbit fur works great but honestly whatever's in your tying kit - then comes the magic. That chunk of elk hair? That's what makes it float like a cork. I like to flare it out good before tying it down, gives it that perfect buggy silhouette. Oh, and don't forget the hackle wrapped around the body - about 2 inches long usually (or maybe it's less, I never measure). Gives it legs and keeps it riding high.

What's it supposed to be? Well, caddisflies obviously. Those little brown jobs that trout go nuts for come summer. Personally I think it's the way the elk hair makes that little "V" wake on the water - drives fish wild. I've had days on the Madison where they'd ignore everything else but hammer an elk hair.

Best places to use it? Everywhere. No seriously - streams, rivers, even lakes if you've got caddis around. Trick is to cast upstream and let it drift dead naturally. No drag, no funny business. Just plop it down gentle like a real bug landing. One trick I use is to give it the tiniest twitch now and then - makes it look like it's struggling. Works like a charm during hatches when fish get keyed in on the surface.

Funny story - last time I was out on the Deschutes, I completely botched my first cast (story of my life) and dumped the fly right in some whitewater. Wouldn't you know it, a fat rainbow smashed it the second it hit the water. Sometimes even us idiots get lucky.

Colors? Stick with tan or brown mostly, but I've had luck with olive too when the fish are being picky. And remember - if you're not getting hits, go smaller. Always go smaller. That's another thing about the elk hair - it's just so damn visible to the fish. And to you, which helps when your eyes aren't what they used to be after 30 years of squinting at fly boxes.

At the end of the day, it's just one of those flies that works when nothing else will. Simple as that.