Catching Air
By: Alice Tesar
My outdoor gear is always put to the test when I take it for a spin with my toddler. Recently my partner and I were fishing with him at a local spot that has a wide rocky bend. We let him play around, eat a few rocks, and investigate sunbathing snakes while we got some casts in. I paused to tie on a new fly and he hobbled over to me to inspect my choice. He gestured to hold my rod and while I repeatedly offered him to hold my net instead, he insisted on the rod and began to throw a tantrum. In a moment of trust or parental weakness — it is all a blur — I let him hold the rod. In a split second, he had run two-rod lengths down the shoreline and was jamming my 4 wt. Winston Pure under the water, bent in a right angle, back-and-forth in the freestone river bed. As fast as he got away, I was bear hugging him, the rod, the net, and, well…the fly was hugging my thumb with its barb. To my surprise, the rod and all its guides were still intact. Everyone talks about the Winston Feel but I think the Winston “Durability” also needs some credit. The three of us regrouped, removed the barb from my thumb, the tantrum prone toddler went back in the pack and we cast on.
I was relieved to see that the rod was casting fine given its recent assault. The Pure is a dry fly rod made for precise presentations and light flies and it is spring in the Rockies which means deep nymph rigs. Nevertheless, it was a new rod and I was looking to put it to the test. With some effort it cast my weighted nymph rig sufficiently but the true magic of a rod like the Pure is its presentation of a dry fly. Feeling the flex in my palm, the nearly weightless rod shoots a size 18 CDC Midge to the top of the riffle. A long, slow drift made effortless by the rod’s flick-of-the-wrist mending capacity. We did cast dries to a few rising fish as the morning went on, but as happens more frequently now due to the wandering toddler, I’m not paying as close attention to the river’s hints nor the trout’s take. We left skunked but with our rods intact.
When we became a family of three, we were gifted a book that we condemned to the shelf immediately.
Read More »8 Tips For Figuring Out The Trout
How do you find and catch trout on days when there doesn’t seem to be much action?
When the river looks like it’s boiling with rising trout and you’re having to wipe the BWOs out of your eyes just to tie on a fly, it doesn’t take a degree in entomology to catch fish. Sadly, days like that are few and far between and we spend plenty of days on the river scratching our heads and guessing what might get a favorable response.
Most days there is a combination of fly pattern and technique that will put a couple of fish in the net. If you’re struggling with finding that combination, you may just need a method of narrowing down the variables and making an informed decision.
HERE ARE 8 TIPS FOR FIGURING OUT WHAT THE TROUT WANT.
Take a few minutes to watch the water.
Try to resist the temptation to jump in and start casting. I know, it’s hard. You’ve driven a couple of hours and you’ve been thinking about fishing all week, but take a few minutes to watch the water and see what you can learn.
Are there any bugs at all? If there are adults but no fish rising to them, try the nymphal form. If fish are rising, pay attention to the rise form. Splashy takes may mean they are eating emergers, while lazy sips might suggest spinners. What about water clarity? Stained water might require larger or more brightly colored flies. Higher or lower than normal flows might affect where fish hold.
Look for fish, too. It’s much easier to narrow down choices of patterns and techniques when you have an actual fish the test them on. Before you start blind casting to pockets and seams, see if you can spot a good dance partner.
See what the birds are doing.
Birds and fish have more in common than many folks realize. Most birds eat insects in the same way fish do. If swallows are buzzing the surface of the water the hatch is on, even if you can’t see it. If they are circling high above, you may have missed the hatch but those bugs will be back later in the day to lay eggs and fall. Other birds like herons and osprey are professional fishers and know exactly where to find fish. Keep a close eye on them too.
Sample some bugs.
It’s never a bad idea to take a few minutes to see what’s on the menu. Especially when fishing new water or as the seasons change. Turn over some rocks in a riffle and see what’s clinging to the bottom. Look around rocks and plants on the edges of the water for shucks or adults. Shake some bushes and kick the grass to see what’s hiding there. Run a bug seine along a foam line, especially if you see fish rising but don’t know to what. A little investigation will at least give you a starting place, if not an answer.
Use searching patterns and tandem rigs.
Read More »Catch More Fish By Listening To Vinyl
Is there a link between vinyl records and fly fishing?
I’m prepared to make a completely unreasonable argument. Whether or not you agree with it, it might actually help you catch more fish. If not, it will absolutely make for a better music listening experience. What have you got to loose?
I became aware of this obtuse connection on my first steelhead trip to Oregon to fish with my buddy Jeff Hickman. We spent the cold snowy evening tying flies, drinking Irish Whisky and spinning old vinyl LPs. The sizzling, popping sound of The Doors became the soundtrack for my first steelhead on a swung fly. To this day music and steelhead are inextricably linked.
Music has always been an important part of my life. I wore through the grooves of a hundred records when I was a teenager. I still remember seeing my first CD player and its shiny silver disks. In the mid 80s, when CDs were unavoidable and vinyl hard to come by, my faithful Bang and Olfson 4002 turntable, bought with paper route money, went into a box.
Fortunately, I never lost track of it and, twenty-five years later, after that trip to Oregon I pulled it out. I’d forgotten how good vinyl sounds. How warm and organic. What’s more, I’d forgotten that listening to music was a ritual. It was a production, something you set aside time to do. You couldn’t just put on a playlist and go about your day. There were buttons to push and records to be flipped. Music demanded your attention and that made you appreciate it.
The last week or two I’ve been tying woven nymphs. If you’re not familiar with the technique, it involves weaving intricate, two-toned bodies from colorful embroidery thread. It’s tedious and time consuming and in the end the patterns are not necessarily more effective than much simpler patterns, but creating them and fishing them is a real joy. When you tie on a carefully woven nymph you fish in different way, or at least I do. It’s as though the time and care that’s put into each fly culminates in a more mindful fishing experience. Each cast becomes a special occasion.
During these tying sessions I’ve been listening to vinyl records. Brian Jones era Rolling Stones, mostly. I’ve worked it out to where each fly takes about an album side. At that rate I’m not exactly stuffing the box but that’s not the point. I put on side two of “More Hot Rocks” and start tapering the body to “Out Of Time” and I’m whip finishing somewhere toward the end of “We Love You.” I’ve crafted a beautiful trout magnet and witnessed an important evolutionary period in The Stones music. Absolute perfection.
I got into fly fishing very young. I don’t think my path was at all typical. I was never a good gear angler and I’m still not. I was an outsider and fly fishing was an outsider’s game. I’m self-aware enough to know that I was drawn to it because I like doing things the hard way, even when I’m not very good at doing it the easy way yet. I got one casting lesson from my grandfather and everything else I learned up to about age 40, I learned on my own. I don’t recommend the method, that’s just how I did it.
I do think most fly anglers do have a few things in common. We like to do things the hard way. We enjoy the process and the challenge and we are comfortable being outsiders. Our interest in doing things a particular way generally outweighs our interest in catching fish. It’s a contradiction we all practice and seldom understand.
The division between fly and gear anglers was highlighted for me at this year’s IFTD / ICAST show. On the way
Read More »7 Reasons I use the Double Figure 8 Loop Knot In Freshwater And Salt
By Louis Cahill
This easy fishing knot will help you catch more fish.
I learned the Double Figure 8 Loop Knot when I started getting serious about tarpon fishing. It quickly became the go-to knot for all of my saltwater and streamer fishing. I even use it to attach nymphs from time to time. It has become indispensable to me and I am absolutely sure that I catch more fish by using it. No matter what species you target, the Double Figure 8 will help you fish better.
HERE ARE 7 REASONS I USE THE DOUBLE FIGURE 8 LOOP KNOT.
Better Action
The key to enticing fish to eat a fly is lifelike action. Since a loop knot doesn’t lock the tippet down against the eye of the hook, your fly is free to move at any angle in the water. Any fly attached with a loop knot will move in a more lifelike manner and is more likely to be eaten.
Flies sink faster
With a traditional fishing knot, like a clinch knot where the tippet is locked to the eye of the hook, a weighted fly has to pull the tippet down across its width. This causes resistance. Think of it as putting your rod tip in the water and moving it quickly sideways. Can you feel the resistance? With a loop knot, the fly can pivot in the loop and dive, drawing the tippet down along its length. Think of that as plunging your rod tip into the water tip first. Much less resistance, right? That’s why loop knots are the standard for saltwater fly fishing.
Small profile
The Double Figure 8 does not rely on multiple wraps of line for its holding power. The simplicity of the jam knot creates a strong knot that’s much smaller than other fishing knots. A smaller knot is less visible to the fish. This is huge when using heavy bite guards for species like tarpon or musky. This does, however, lead to the one exception in my use of this knot. I do not use it to attach the hook when fishing tube flies. Because I rely on the larger knot to stop the tube, I use a surgeon’s loop.
100% line strength
The Double Figure 8 is a jam knot. That means it’s two simple knots which slide together and lock into place. There are no weak points in the knot. No places where tippet can cut itself and tags don’t pull through when the tippet stretches. Your knot strength is the full tippet strength.
Low friction tightening
The strength of you knots is only as good as
Yellowhammers and Specks
“I thought you might like these,” my brother Tom holds out an old yellowed envelope. “I found them going through some of Pete’s things.”
William Starling Cahill, who preferred to be called Pete, was my Grandfather and the man who taught me to fly fish. He’s been gone for many years now but from time to time little gems that he left behind will turn up. My brother now lives in Pete’s old house which puts him in a good position to uncover relics.
I open the envelope and into my hand spill two feathers, dark down one edge and bright yellow along the other. “Ooooohh,” I exclaim and catch Tom’s eye, “Unobtainium.”
Yellowhammer is what we call them here in the south. The Yellow Shafted Flicker, a delicate little woodpecker who’s hammering used to echo off the hills of the Southern Appalachians. He’s almost completely silent now, shotgunned to the brink of extinction. Just having those two little feathers now could land me in jail. The Yellowhammer is heavily protected, now that it’s pretty much too late.
Yellowhammer is what we call the fly too. The one that’s tied from those feathers. It’s a wild, buggy looking thing. You wouldn’t expect a trout to eat it, but they do, like there’s no tomorrow. It’s a pattern as old as the little abandoned country church I pass on the gravel mountain road that leads to the stream I don’t tell anyone about. It’s as old as the graves there in the church yard and just as forgotten, but I still fish it.
It’s the perfect fly to catch Southern Appalachian Brook Trout. The Brookie, or Speck as they used to call them, is our only native trout. Forced south from New England by the ice age long before there was an England, new or old. When the ice retreated, like lots of folks who visit the south, the brookies stayed. They evolved, adapted to their new home and, like the Scotts and Irishmen who came to these mountains, they ended up just a little different from their northern cousins.
They are as scarce as the yellowhammer now, but with none
Read More »Add A Little Life To Your Flies
“TWITCH, TWITCH, STOP!”, EXCLAIMS MY GUIDE, EDUARDO.
I’ve heard these words all week and now it’s just become second nature for me as soon as my dry fly hits the water. I have to admit though, it’s been extremely effective.
We’re taught as newbies to focus on presenting our fly on a drag free, dead drift and that’s great. It’s good to start with the fundamentals. It’s one of many pieces of the puzzle that sets a foundation for us to build from as we progress as fly anglers. Sometimes the situation calls for a little persuasion. A little twitch, jiggle, shake, or twerk is just want we need in order to entice a strike.
Movement helps imitate life. Think about it for a second. How often do you
Read More »Trout Deformities
I SPOTTED THIS LITTLE GUY IN A HATCHERY SUPPORTED STREAM IN NORTH CAROLINA AND FISHED TO HIM UNTIL I CAUGHT HIM SO I COULD GET A PHOTO.
While not common exactly, deformities like this are not unusual in either hatcheries or in the wild but you seldom see a ‘special’ fish like this in a wild stream. Nature deals with this sort of thing in short order. In a hatchery, however, a fish like this will do fine and grow to maturity.
This brook trout would have been a solid 16 inches if he were normal. A buddy suggested I bank him. There was no need. This kind of deformity stems from injury to the fish’s spine early in life. There are no defective genes or disease to pass along so I released him. After all, he plays an important role in the ecosystem, at least from the otter’s perspective.
There can certainly be problems with hatchery raised fish. Disease and poor genetics can wreak havoc on wild populations. On the whole, I think North Carolina does a good job and it’s important to remember that this is a regional issue that is best evaluated by region. What’s right for a trout stream in North Carolina is not right for a steelhead river in Oregon. That’s another topic worth some considerable ink, but not just now.
It did get me thinking about some more troubling fish deformities. Specifically Idaho’s two-headed trout. There was a little bit of excitement about it when the New York Times published photos, in February of 2012, of the deformed fish which were
Read More »Fly Fishing: Belly Crawling My Way to Big Beautiful Trout
I know what you’re probably thinking, “Come on Kent, you wrote another freaking post about the importance of stealth for spooky trout? Yes, I did, but this isn’t your average stealth post. Most of us already know spooky trout require anglers to move slow and quietly. We understand how important it is to pay attention to our shadows, to work fish with our leader and fly only, and that delicate presentations are critical. Last, but not least, we’re smart enough to realize that even when luck is on our side, all we’re probably going to get is a couple good shots before the game is over.
Most of the time, if we maintain our stealth in all of the above areas, catching trout isn’t a problem. But from time to time, we do find ourselves on trout streams, when fly fishing conditions are so damn challenging that our standard everyday stealth tactics aren’t enough to get the job done. In order for us to find success in the toughest of conditions, we have to be willing to push our stealth efforts a step further. And that means going above and beyond what other anglers are too lazy or physically unable to do to catch trout. That’s right, I’m talking about dropping to the ground, and crawling on all fours into position to make a cast.
Read More »Low Viz
The air around me is hot, still and thick enough to breathe with a knife and fork. The edges of my hair are damp with sweat. The bow of the boat bobs gently under my feet to the steady “bloop, bloop” of the push pole. All around me the world is a blue-white cyclorama. The sky sopping up the sea without a trace of horizon. Like the view from the center of a light bulb.
I scan the glare for any sign of life. A small window at my feet reveals scurrying crabs and the occasional sponge but as soon as I lift my head I am back in the world of milk. A glare so complete as to turn the world to stone. An impervious shroud covering my eyes, leaving me blind to the ways of the world with no way to distinguish fact from fantasy. Guessing only at what is and what might be.
How many days of my life have I squinted into this abyss? Endless hours with the ferryman at my back, poling me across this void, searching the nothingness with no mooring in sight. How many hours have I stared into this mirror with no one looking back? The coin pinched between my fingers, some ancient fetish, a bit of wing and wire into which, with all of my dreams and aspiration, I have breathed the last of my life. A wish, a prayer, an offering to cast upon the water should some god show himself there.
Read More »Fly-fishing and the Other Stuff That Gets Us Outside
By Daniel Galhardo
I believe fly-fishing is first and foremost and excuse for us to spend time outside.
And it is an incredibly good one. But, deep down it is truly nature, the environment where we find ourselves, that keeps us going out for more. Yes, I know a couple of fishing lunatics that can keep going back to the ugliest ditches to catch fish; but I know way more people that wouldn’t go to those places more than once for a fish of any size, yet keep returning to beautiful parks, pristine meadows and picturesque mountains even if the fish are not that big.
In fact, I know many people that keep going back to those places even when fishing is not the main intention. They just want to be there. Sometimes I find myself in that camp.
I could wax poetic about how “many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.” (Thoreau). But I believe you have heard that enough that, by now, you either have come to hate the cliched sentence, or have come to believe it. Regardless, I would imagine you already sense that any excuse to be outside must be grabbed.
At this time of year we experience our infamous runoff season. The snow that has accumulated in the Colorado peaks during the winter melts and inflates our rivers. Although “snow melt” makes for a cool Colorado beer ingredient (Upslope beer is awesome by the way) it also makes it a bit tough to fish near home. So, at this time of year I find other excuses to get me outside.
One of the things that gets me outside at this time of year is foraging. I get outside and roam forests and fields in search of edible mushrooms and mountain vegetables. Foraging is actually not too unlike fishing. It often gets me to beautiful places. And, the process of actively looking for something, just like looking for the spots where the fish may be hiding, fills the parts of my brain that are normally busy thinking about work and life’s challenges.
When I go fishing, I typically notice a lot of things in the stream that I wouldn’t pay that much attention to while on a regular hike. I notice the way a current may form a whirlpool and gather things such as insects and leaves in nooks between rocks. I notice the shadows that betray the location of fish. Likewise, foraging allows me to notice things I wouldn’t pay much attention to while fishing. I notice the way a fern uncurls as it comes out of the ground, or the patterns and texture of a small patch of moss. I even notice the smells are different. While I’m fishing, my nostrils seem to pick up the freshness of water and the scent of fresh pines more than the earthy smells I notice when I’m walking on dry land. It is interesting to notice these differences.
Last week I went on an outing that filled my soul – yeah, I know, cliché… But, it was so true. One morning I woke up with an intense desire to go fishing. The rivers were blown out of proportion here. I had an early morning meeting, but couldn’t stop thinking about hitting the water. Going for a regular hike with the dog was not going to fill the need I had. As I had my morning coffee, I decided I needed a more intimate, and perhaps more adventurous experience with mother nature. A few minutes before leaving for my meeting, I decided I was going packrafting, and foraging, and bring a tenkara rod along just in case.
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