Laegreid Outdoors

Laegreid Outdoors has covered squid jigging, and we've covered fly tying, so I figured, what the heck, let's mash 'em both t ogether. This was the result: Do squid like fuzzy things? This one looks highly effective. Now I don't know about the semantics, so I'm not sure if we can call these squid flies until they've been fished off of a fly line; for now they are squid jigs. Someday (when I acquire a boat) they will be fished off a 5-weight and a sink-tip, for now they'll be riding fluorocarbon into the Salish Sea.   There are a few reasons I tied these: I've had most of my squid-success on small jigs; these are smaller than my small jigs. We shall see if that makes a difference. There are some instances where fish will hold on to a lure longer if it feels more natural. Since my squid jigs were all hard plastic, these will let me find out if that holds true for squid as well. I like making weird things. So these little guys are...

Since moving out to Washington from Nebraska, I have had many new fishing experiences, from steelheading in the S rivers to salmon fishing from Puget Sound beaches.  The most unique experience yet, however, is squidding. Squid fishing is far different from the bass fishing in Nebraska, which we did under the sun on warm mornings, stalking along the edges of sand-pits and casting plastic worms to fish we saw cruising along the bank. The season starts to heat up in October, as the first large schools of squid start to make their way south into Puget Sound. Those brave and/or stupid enough (i.e, me) to pursue the wee cephalopods in the cold and damp must wait until after the sun sets to head out.  The anglers go and stand on a dock or a pier that has lights; squid like to hang around the fringes of the light, darting in to grab shrimp and small fish feeding on the plankton drawn to the illuminated water.  The anglers use long, whippy rods to lob their multi-p...