Kelly Galloup's Mini and Micro Dungeon

"Dry" Fly January v. 5

Words by Greg Thomas

When it comes to fly tying and flies, I’m a bit like an avid reader who never takes time to consider the author’s name. These days, unless it’s a historic pattern, like Troth’s Elk Hair Caddis, or Matthews’ Sparkle Dun, Carlson’s Purple Haze, Stranahan’s Brindleshoot or Caddis Variant, Duncan’s Cockroach, Hickman’s Taco, or Lawson's No Hackle, among many others . . . I probably wouldn’t know who tied a pattern. Unless, I caught so many fish on it I just had to know.

That’s why I know Kelly Galloup created the Sex Dungeon--I've caught a bunch of fish on that pattern, including some tankers on southwest Montana's big name rivers.

Galloup and I used to fish a bit together when I lived in Ennis and he was about 40 minutes away at Slide Inn. We’re both the types who like to rib each other-- and anyone else who wanders in the way--which means anyone without a relatively thick skin wouldn’t enjoy hanging out on the water with either of us.

We’ve been as hard on each other as anyone else and that, too, is why I can hold over his head an appearance at the Jackson Hole One Fly Contest when I subbed in for Team Cloudveil and pulled off a second-place finish. That’s something I can rib him with until death do us part, and it's is a significant reason why I haven’t participated in the One Fly again. Like a poker player who lucks into a few good hands at the high-stakes table and promptly splits with the earnings, I don’t want to tempt fate; I got lucky and a guy like Galloup wouldn’t lose twice; he’s totally dedicated and takes a scientific approach to his craft, whereas I am more of a committed writer who takes a full flask of whiskey to the water and mostly just travels, fishes, and tells stories about it.

Between denunciations, Galloup and I find plenty of time to talk flies, and we did so one day on Montana’s Jefferson River while trying an array of his best known streamers, working them with various retrieves, hoping to touch one of the Jefferson’s oversized brown trout.

It was a good place to test flies: when I produced and published a magazine called Tight Lines, I interviewed biologists each year and the dude handling the Jefferson told me about a 14-pound brown that he’d shocked several years in a row. It lived beneath a bridge, amongst a root wad and a pile of bent up sheet metal. He never told me which bridge, and I knew better than ask.

Galloup and I didn’t find that 14-pound brown, but we caught some pretty good ones before a nasty electrical storm sent us home. During the shuttle we discussed the Sex Dungeon, a pattern Galloup swears by and that I seem to throw more than any of his other streamers. In a 2014 interview with Galloup, which originally ran on my website anglerstonic.com, I asked him about many of his streamer patterns, including the Dungeon, and his theory on why seriously large trout eat those things.

“The articulation in my flies is based on a back-and-forth and side-to-side S-swim, which is the way prey-fish swim, and that is a trigger-point for big trout,” he said. “If you combine the side-to-side movement with tipping up and down, it’s even better. I try to create flies that offer multiple trigger-points so a fish says, ‘I’ve got to ef this thing up.’

“You’ll still catch fish throwing standard, run-of-the-mill Buggers and other streamers, and you may get lucky and catch a good trout, but you won’t trigger a response from the really big fish that someone with a more aggressive multiple trigger-point fly would,” Galloup added. “You would be limiting yourself, missing an opportunity to see more and bigger fish by only fishing the standard streamers.

“I basically mimic a jointed Rapala,” Galloup added. “But the key to my flies is the articulation style; I run a loop of braided stainless off the front hook and attach it to the back hook, which has a flat ring eye. Originally, guys put a hook behind another hook to create the first articulated flies. It made flies longer, but it didn’t make them swim differently. When I added the flat-eye back hook everything came together.

“My entire theory developed years ago when I dove the rivers and watched fish,” Galloup explained. “We (anglers) have been trained to think about fish food and match the hatch. The big fish don’t play by that. They are mostly nocturnal. They feed when we aren’t fishing. So, you go underwater and watch them and they have these baitfish around them all the time, and they’re not eating them. They’re like grizzlies; a lot of animals walk past grizzlies and don’t get eaten, but you put an idiot in Yellowstone who runs from a bear and trips over himself and the next day you have a compelling headline in the Bozeman Chronicle. Big fish are like that; they are programmed to feed only at certain times so you need a bunch of trigger-points to get them to eat when otherwise they wouldn’t. For instance, I saw a brown trout a guy caught on the Boogie Man and then killed, and it had a 12-inch rainbow in its stomach. Do you think that fish needed to eat? It was triggered to eat.”

I also asked Galloup about why his patterns don’t exactly imitate any particular fish.

“I’m not as concerned about visual exactness as I am about multiple trigger-points,” Galloup said. “I want it to be close enough to be eaten—that’s why I like two tone colors that are nearly exact—but it doesn’t have to be super lifelike. I’m a marabou and hair guy. Think about the Sex Dungeon. I don’t have a clue if the Sex Dungeon is a sculpin, a crayfish or a mouse running away. Who cares? There are multiple triggers built in and big fish eat it.”

Big fish eat it, is right. What I’ve learned over time is that all fish eat it, although these days I’m prone to throwing the Mini or Micro Dungeon more often than the original, size-2 Sex Dungeon because rainbow, cutthroat, brook trout and smaller browns can get that thing in their mouths.

A couple summers ago I packed 40 miles into the Bob Marshall Wilderness and then floated out for four straight days, camping on the banks of the river, jumping off cliffs during the heat of day, hiking into hidden lakes searching for bull trout . . . but mostly just throwin’ down on scads of native westslope cutthroat trout that COULD NOT REFUSE a two-inch long Micro-Dungeon.

Those cutthroats were so eager, in fact, that many leaped right over the fly while trying to annihilate it. Whereas our size-14 and 16 dries had taken cutties ranging between 10 and 14 inches, the Micro-Dungeon brought some mature, 16 to 18-inch fish to hand. I’ve fished the Micro and Mini-Dungeons on numerous waters, including Montana’s Big Hole and Bighorn rivers, and wherever I throw those flies the fish pay attention. Got cutthroat waters to cover and all you’re getting is an endless run eight to 14-inchers? Try the Micro or Mini and have your eyes opened.

No matter where you fish this year, Oregon to Alaska, Montana to New Mexico, or anywhere else trout swim, you should pack some of these patterns with you, which means you better sit down behind the vice and start cranking them out. The original Sex Dungeon will be best thrown on a six or seven-weight rod. The Mini Dungeon can be thrown most effectively on a five or six. A four-weight can handle the Micro-Dungeon, and that pattern is also perfect for your winter trout spey explorations.

In the end, the original Dungeon, the Mini-Dungeon, and the Micro-Dungeon are some of the most effective streamer patterns you can own. I like the Micro and Mini in white, black and olive. If I’m throwing the big Dungeon, I like it in olive.