To properly go midging, one needs the correct ingredients.
First, in order: sunny, cold morning
Second: call in sick and have breakfast
Third: get to somewhere with quiet beauty and water.
Upon seeing no obvious hatch, one may feel the temptation to cheat. One may justify thusly:
Cheater, but boy that’s a neat looking fly Tom gave me.
Cheater, but I’ve never used that 9 ft 6ips sinking leader I bought at the show last year..
Cheater. That’s actually a 3+lb fish, longer than my forearm, but because it was caught improperly, it looks small in the photo. That is to be expected. Because cheaters never prosper.
Now that one has regained his senses, it is time to change venues and properly midge:
A Chatham pond. Old faithful.
Proper tools of the trade: something to drink, something to smoke, boo with a wicked long leader to a tiny flouro tippet and a smooth as butter reel, and binoculars to scan for rises on the other side.
A fly for dark winter skies
And a rock to sit by.
What more could one desire?
Then one sees it: