103 years ago, just south of Traverse City, Michigan, the greatest dry fly in history was created by a local tier who was trying to help out his friend, Charles F. Adams, match a tricky local hatch.
Adams, an Ohio lawyer, was in Michigan to fish, and had spent the day on Mayfield Pond, a tributary of the Boardman River. Even in 1922, the Boardman was a renowned fishery. While at Mayfield Pond, Adams ran into a hatch that he couldn’t quite match with the flies in his box. So, while at his hotel that evening, he told his friend and local fly tier Leonard Halladay about this hatch.
Halladay was a respected guide and fisherman in the area, so it wasn’t surprising that Adams asked him for help. The two were also friends, as well.
There are a few differing accounts of the order of events that followed. Some sources say Halladay had a few flies on hand and gave them to Adams that evening. Others say that Halladay went home, tied up some flies based on Adams’ description, and handed them to him the next day. Either way, Halladay gave Adams a fly that hadn’t been fished with much yet, and the next day, Adams took it back to the Boardman River.
In Adams’ own words, the fly was “a knockout.” When he went to give Halladay the report on how the fly had fished, he asked Halladay if the fly had a name.
Halladay hadn’t named it yet, but decided that since Adams was the first one to have serious success with it, he’d name it after him.
The Original Fly
The historical record is a bit murky here, as well. Some sources say Halladay used gray wool yarn for the body, and others say he used muskrat fur right from the get-go. In a few accounts, the wings on the Adams are referred to as “folded down” over the body, similar to a caddisfly.
From a bit of research, and looking at museum displays of a few Adams flies tied by Halladay himself, you’ll see some stark differences in that original fly versus the one sold by the fistful in modern fly shops.
For starters, the original tail was tied with golden pheasant tail fibers, instead of brown hackle fibers. The combination of grizzly and brown hackle was still used, but as already mentioned, there’s a debate about how the wings were tied in. Muskrat fur was probably used for the body in the original fly, in the drab color we’ve referred to as Adams gray.
Perhaps most noticeably, though, the original Adams wasn’t a neat fly. It was bushy, unkempt, and other than its general shape, it doesn’t bear much resemblance to the fly we see today.
For that, we have the Catskills to thank. Once the Adams gained enough notoriety to rise above regional fame, Catskill fly tiers dressed it with their unique style — neater, taller hackle, a slimmer body, and slightly shorter tail.
The Adams Today
These days, it’s hard to find a fly shop that doesn’t have an Adams for sale. It’s such a ubiquitous fly, it’s hard to imagine the fly fishing world without it. Even though we don’t know what Halladay intended the Adams to mimic when he first tied it, the fly’s performance really speaks for itself. It’s just buggy enough to resemble caddis, mayflies, and midges, but not so closely that it gets pigeonholed for one specific hatch.
That’s really where the Adams makes it magic. It’s a fly that’ll put in the work during just about any major hatch, so long as you get a decent drift. You really can’t ask more from a fly than that.


Some religions celebrate Mohammed, others Jesus, and then there’s Buddha and Moses. For me, the Parachute Adams 16-18 is my Savior.