What’s in a name?  Those of us who look at our vises as a way to create the new and produce the previously unknown realize (or SHOULD realize) that we will probably never get rich tying flies.  Fly tying has, so far, been immune from the patent craze.  I’m sure there is someone working at Rapala who has made some serious $$$ because he carved the original Shad-Rap.  There may even come a day when some douche-bag wants us all to send him a nickle every time we tie a fly he invented (good luck there.  The check’s in the mail).  However, whomever tied the first S.H.F., as it’s affectionately referred to in Hatchless circles, won’t ever see a dime.

Part of the excitement for the creative fly tier is naming the fly.  But lets be  honest someone, somewhere has probably assembled the same material arrangement before, and named it themselves.  But the best fly names are those that have a story. Hence, the brief and pointless story of the S.H.F…  One of my “go to” streamers for trout and smallmouth is a simple sculpin pattern consisting of palmered and zonkered rabbit strips and a spun deer hair head with a collar.  It probably had a name when I tied it but I don’t know what it was.  While fishing it one day with Caulfield, he points out that I am fishing with a “Hedgehog” or “Woodchuck” or some other name I can’t remember.  That’s two ‘official’ names now that don’t mean anything and no one remembers.

Soon after, Caulfield fishes one of the Hatchless home waters (Michigan’s Ausable River) with a guide who actually gives him this very same pattern but refers to it as an S.H.F.  and since then, the name has stuck with me.

Why????  Simple.  The guide had found one of these flies stuck to the door of an outhouse, liked it, copied it, and used it.  Hence the name ‘Shit House Fly’.  The moral of the story, name  your flies something fun.  You are the only one you have to impress.

Kelly Galloup has mastered this idea with flies like the ‘Zoo Cougar’, the ‘Sex Dungeon’ and the ‘Green Butt Monkey’.