Browns On The Move
Fall through winter is a busy time of year for trout.
Water temperatures are falling, days are getting shorter and big fish are on the move. Among the species that spawn in the fall are Brown Trout. The cooling weather and longer nights are their cue to leave the deep pools, reservoirs and under cut banks they call home and head to the shallow gravel runs where they spawn. This annual migration offers anglers a rare shot at fish we would normally never see.
Browns are one of the most sought after species of trout. Primarily because they are so difficult to catch. They are moody and reclusive, the larger fish spending most of their days hidden by overhead cover. They do their feeding at night, hunting down bait fish and crawfish in the shallows then disappearing at dawn. They are homebodies. Browns will often spend their whole life in one pool where they have found refuge. Research has shown that they set such a high value on this kind of safety that some Brown Trout, faced with lethally high water temperatures, will stay in their hiding places and die, rather than leave to find cooler water. That stubbornness is exactly what makes them so difficult to catch.
Targeting moving fish is a lot of work. You have to cover water, but you have to do your homework too. The first step is knowing where the fish live. This is usually pretty easy. It’s hard to keep big Browns a secret. The reservoirs and rivers where folks catch the occasional big brown generally hold lots of fish of that size. The next step is a little tougher. You have to figure out where they spawn. Fish will move upstream, drawn to the spot where they were born, to lay their eggs. They will be looking for shady runs with clean gravel bottoms and consistent, well oxygenated, moving water. My friends and I will take a day during the spawn and hike a likely stream looking for signs of spawners, gaining valuable knowledge for the next year’s fishing.
Often these spots are in small headwater streams on public land. Sometimes they are on private property. This is of little concern because spawning fish are not what we are looking for. Harassing fish that are already on their redds is harmful and poor sportsmanship. The spawn is important to the health of the population and there will be no big wild fish to catch without a successful spawn. Let them be. What we want is to catch them on the move. The way to do this is
Read More »Carp Are Not Bonefish
By Dan Frasier
Hardcore carp nuts are hard people to like.
We’re argumentative, sensitive about our fish, and contentious. We’ll assume you’re insulting the fish we love so much; taking offense to the most innocuous statements and won’t hesitate to demean whatever quarry you choose to pursue. I was once heard saying, “Trout are the pretentious man’s bluegill.” Things like that. For the record, I later apologized because I love trout and the dude I was yelling at didn’t deserve it either way. But this defensive nature begs the question, “How the hell did we get like this?”
The answer is pretty simple. We spent years fishing in the shadows. Lying about what we were chasing or being derided for chasing them. To this day, I catch shit nearly every time someone asks me what I’m fishing for. When we finally decided to come out of the closet, it was mostly to derision and smirks. We caught fish, posted pictures and spent a fair amount of time fighting off the hate that comes with fishing for something that people have been misinformed into believing destroys the water quality and reduces the populations of real fish. It was a rough time to be a carper.
About 10 years ago a man by the name of David McCool, in Traverse City Michigan, coined the term “Golden Bonefish”.
David was a marketer by trade and guide in his free time and he wanted to “rebrand” the carp. He decided the first order of business was associating carp flyfishing with something more palatable to, what can be, a snooty and exclusive audience. Don’t believe me? Tell a flyfishermen you put a worm on your hook and cast it with a flyrod and see how exclusive we can be. Anyway, David got some notoriety and the association with Bonefish stuck. In a lot of ways, it was the crack in the flyfishing world’s defenses that we needed to come barging in. And it worked.
David fished the crystal clear sand flats of Lake Michigan near Traverse City on Traverse Bay. Hell, he probably still fishes there. I’ve lost track of him. The point is, his fishing was wading knee deep flats over sand in bathtub clear water while looking for shoals of fish cruising and tailing on small baitfish. He was bonefishing… for carp. It just made sense. And you can still bonefish for carp. I’ve done it. You have to get a boarding pass to a select number of destinations at the right time of year to do it. But it’s available. So David wasn’t wrong. He simply didn’t understand the diversity of conditions under which we would eventually find ourselves flyfishing for carp.
To this day, the association with bonefishing persists. People discuss using carp as training for bonefish trips, or inevitably try to sell flyfishing for carp as bonefishing in freshwater. It’s such a flawed notion it doesn’t make all that much sense.
Flyfishing for carp is so ridiculously
Read More »Eternal Return
By Lauren Holt
“IN HINDSIGHT, CHANGE WAS CERTAINLY ON OFFER THAT SANTERIA SUNDAY MORNING”
“There is no being apart from becoming.” – Hegel
maahnk maahnk maahnk maahnk maahnk maank
I rolled over to find my phone and kill my alarm, groggy in the stillness and the purple dark of 5:00 am on a Sunday morning. It’s early for me – very early – but the sun would be up soon, and if I moved quickly, I could be on and off the Hooch in time for church. My phone said I could count on good water levels, so I loaded up and headed south. A fifteen-minute drive landed me in the nearly empty parking lot. It was a welcome though unsurprising sight. Rod rigged up and gear stowed, I portaged down to the water. As I walked, another noise emerged over the crunch of my boots and my boat on the gravel and debris left over from the most recent late summer storm.
bluck-bluck-bluck-bluck-bluck-bluck-bluck-bluckaaah bluck-bluck-bluck-bluckah
It’s funny how a sound can transport you. This one sounded like home, back in Northwest Arkansas, where we always had a few laying hens and a rooster or two milling around the farm. As I reached the water, though, a new sound met my ears – one that abruptly pulled me out of my reverie. Voices chanting. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the rooster certainly got the gist of their message, and he, for one, was not thrilled.
I launched my boat that morning to a chorus of frenetic chanting and a frantic rooster.
Then nothing. A quiet as startling as the ruckus it replaced. Maybe it should’ve given me pause, but it didn’t.
I made my way out into the water, a scattering of bright yellow flower petals the only concrete indication that I hadn’t dreamt the whole thing. This place – just wow. Pretty thoroughly lost in thought, I fished a bit, landed a couple of stripers, cleaned up, and walked up the church steps as the congregation rounded on the last verse of our doxology, “Awake My Soul, and with the Sun.”
If you’d told me back in Arkansas that I would witness a rooster and flower sacrifice on the Hooch, my years-ago self would’ve probably asked for the numbers of both the local police department and PETA chapter. But just like places change, they can change their people too, if we’re open to the experiences they offer us.
Though I haven’t moved nearly as much as many of the professionals who live and work in the Atlanta area, I have experienced my fair share of packing up and making a home for myself in a new place. From Northwest Arkansas – where my great-great-grandparents homesteaded and where, save my grandparents’ stint away from home for a little over a decade, no one but me has left – I moved first to college in central Arkansas, then to eastern Tennessee for my MA, then to Atlanta for my PhD and now my career. Every time I moved, I asked myself some version of the same set of questions: Where will I live? Where will I work? Where’s my river? Part of making a new home, for me, was finding new home water, and those questions gradually became my moving litany. I left the Kings River and my family for the Little Red, a completely different fish habitat and only about an hour from my undergrad alma mater. In Knoxville, I had the Clinch and the Smoky Mountains to explore close to home and the South Holston if I wanted to drive a bit. The move to Atlanta, though, gave me pause.
The appeal of each of the rivers I had left was clear and straightforward. The Kings River meant home. The Little Red meant my first fish on a fly rod and big (as in world record) brown trout. The Smokies meant gorgeous hikes and eager native brookies. My options in Atlanta seemed to be DH trout fishing on the Chattahoochee, a place I’d only experienced in my imagination when Mrs. Brown would turn on Alan Jackson’s latest greatest hits during “rest and re-center” time, or long drives to far flung water. Neither option thrilled me. But Emory is in Atlanta, so that’s where I moved, in spite of the fact that when I thought about the river that would be practically in my backyard, the first things that came to mind were hot, muddy water and beer. Basically Mudcats, NatGeo-style. You can laugh at my naïveté. It’s okay.
In reality, the Hooch boasts a little over 430 miles of biological and geological diversity, resulting in numerous unique and complex fish habitats.
From its headwaters in
Fly Feature: Stealth Bomber
By Justin Pickett
IT DIVES AND IT GURGLES. IT SPUTTERS AND IT BUBBLES. AND IT JUST PLAIN CATCHES FISH!
The Stealth Bomber is by far my number one topwater fly pattern for warm water species. Whether I’m after smallmouth or largemouth bass, or targeting bluegill, it’s always in my box and typically gets tied onto the end of my tippet at some point during my outings. I typically carry them in 3 different color schemes to match different conditions. Check ‘em out! It’s an easy tie. And if you ever fished with a Pop-R as a kid, then you’re good to go! Either tie ‘em or buy ‘em in sizes #2-#6 depending on the fish you’re targeting. Fish this bad boy around floating grass, weed lines, lily pads, or any other submerged structure where bass and panfish like to hide. Vary your retrieve to find out what the fish are liking that day and wait for that take!
Want to add a fish-catching twist
Read More »Are We Being The Best Ambassadors For Fly-Fishing?
Are you proud of how you represent fly-fishing?
I sat in a meeting the other day, a discussion really, with a group of fly fishing guides. Most of them are guys I like and respect. I was very quickly stoked at, from my perspective, how they all got it wrong. The experience left me frustrated and angry for about twenty-four hours. After a cool-down period I’m ready to discuss it here. If what I have to say makes you angry or defensive, you should take a hard look in the mirror.
By any measure, guides are the gateway to the sport. They are the educators, informants and even the evangelists of fly fishing. They, and the guys at the fly shop, are the most common point of contact for the angler new to fly fishing. They are skilled, hard working, motivated individuals with a passion for what they do. If they weren’t, they’d have washed out of the business. Many of my best friends are guides and some of them are the best examples of what guides should be. So what’s my beef?
The first question put to this group of guides was, “Who are your clients?”
What followed was about a half hour of bitching and moaning with the common thread being, “our clients suck.”
To my ears this is inexcusable on every level. To be fair, I don’t think most of these guys are prone to thinking that way, but it only took one toxic personality to pipe up and they all piled on with comments about their clients being idiots, not being able to cast or tie knots or follow instructions. They also agreed that most of their clients did not want to be told they were doing something wrong, an important point I will return to.
I get it. There is no shortage of unskilled anglers out there. Many of them, as the group described, are business tycoons who are not accustomed to be told they are wrong. Still, I think there are a couple of very important points being overlooked.
If you are a fishing guide, you are in a service industry. You are being paid for your time and as long as you are treated with basic human respect, it’s up to the client how that time is spent. I have spent my entire career in service to clients who don’t understand my job and are often completely unreasonable and I have never complained about having a job. If that job allows me to spend my days on the water doing something I love, that goes double.
The root of much of this is ego, pure and simple. Fishing guides, and for some reason especially trout guides, can be a wildly egotistical lot. If this stings, it’s likely true. I heard comments like, “He’s a surgeon, you’d think he could tie a knot.” I’ll be the first to admit that doctors can be a pretty egotistical bunch as well. They say the difference between God and a doctor is that God doesn’t think he’s a doctor. Regardless, anyone with that degree has made a commitment to mastering something far more challenging than catching a trout. Perhaps the reason he’s not a great angler is because his job has left him little time for it, and when the time comes that I need surgery, I damned glad his priorities are not the same as mine.
If you expect to be respected for putting in the time, and making the sacrifices, necessary to master the art of fly fishing, then you’d better first learn to respect the choices of your clients. Everyone has skills. To think that being a good fisherman, or even a great fisherman, makes you better than anyone else is childish.
Now I’m going to get to what really raises my hackle.
Read More »Fly Fishing Bass: Take Advantage of Late-Winter Warming Trends
This past month, most of us found ourselves having to deal with insanely cold weather, and in many cases, record snow fall on top of that. It was so cold for such an extended period of time, Lake Superior froze over solid, and that hasn’t happened for decades. Even our cold water trout seemed to especially feel the deep freeze. At least the ones that I visited on my home streams, as I struggled to catch them in-between de-icing my rod guides and fly line every other cast. You could catch some trout, but it was hard going, numbers were down, and the trout sure as heck weren’t moving any more than they had to. It seemed all they truly cared about was just taking in enough food to weather the storm. For all you bass fly junkies out there, there’s no question that you were shit out of luck during the last 30 days or so. That is, of course, unless you had an auger handy and were willing to go ice fishing for bass.
On a positive note, it looks like we’ve probably made it past the worst of the bitter cold weather this season. In fact, things really starting looking up this past week, particularly in the Southeast, where many of us southerners saw consecutive sunny days, that warmed the air well into the 60s. When I saw this, I immediately hit some bass water to take advantage of the strong warming trend, and “Wow” were the bass aggressive. They had really turned on quick with the rapidly warming water temperatures. I landed some really nice bass on the fly, and even better, I did it all while most of my peers were still stuck inside trying to de-thaw. Late-winter warming trends, that provide a couple days or more of above average temperatures, are prime times to chase bass on the fly. I learned this bass fact, as a young kid, where I regularly landed some of my largest winter bass on neighborhood ponds. The key was getting on the water and fly fishing hard during those stretches of sunny and warm weather after long stretches of cold.
Read More »7 Reasons Why SUP Fly Fishing Is Here to Stay
By Jason Paul
As anglers are increasingly searching for creative ways to get on the water, the sport of SUP fishing continues to grow in popularity with each passing year.
But did you know that SUP fishing is a relatively new twist on something that actually goes back thousands of years? While the modern-day SUP fishing movement began approximately twenty years ago, the anglers of Peru were paddling around thin fishing canoes made of reed at least three thousand years ago.
In reality, this form of fishing has been around in some form or another for centuries because of the many advantages it offers over fishing from a boat or land. In this article, we’ll take a look at seven key reasons why SUP fly fishing is here to stay.
#1. Portability and Convenience
When compared with boats, stand up paddle boards are incredibly convenient to get on the water and inflatable fishing SUPs can even be deflated, rolled up, and brought along with you wherever you go. While traditional fishing boats have many obvious limitations in terms of where they can and can’t go, a lightweight paddle board and your fly fishing gear can be easily packed up and brought anywhere, opening up a whole new world of exciting opportunities and spots to fish.
#2. Accessibility
Everyone knows just how important it is to find the fish and there’s no easier way to reach the perfect fishing holes than on a SUP. Paddle boards are far more agile than boats and even kayaks, giving you an unfair advantage by allowing you to easily go where others can’t.
Read More »Is Your Steelhead Fly fishing Or Just Swinging?
By Louis Cahill
IS YOUR FLY FISHING FOR THE ENTIRE SWING?
Many anglers who successfully swing flies for steelhead could be catching even more fish by improving their swing. Steelheading is all about taking advantage of every opportunity and it’s pretty common for anglers to waste as much as half their fishing time with a poorly swung fly. I include myself among them. It’s technical business and requires constant attention.
The key to a good swing is keeping the fly moving at just the right speed and angle. That buttery slow swing that gives the fish time to see the fly and react. The gentle motion that entices the attack. It’s a hard thing to visualize and even harder to describe. Fortunately there’s a reliable visual cue that will help you determine when you fly is swinging well and when it isn’t. The belly of your line.
Before we talk about what the belly of the line tells you, let get some terms straight.
The belly is the part of the line which is swept by the current causing an arch in the path of the line. When swinging flies the belly determines the speed at which the fly moves across the current.
Picture yourself fishing from river left. You cast directly across a swift current, which flows from your left to right. Your line bellies down stream so that the middle of your line is down stream of your fly. We will call this a convex belly.
Now, picture yourself on the same side of the river but casting across a slow moving current with your fly landing in faster current on the far side. Your fly moves down stream and hangs below your line, which curves to follow. We will call this a concave belly.
Picture a swing where your line makes the shape of an L. Your fly and leader point in a direction perpendicular to your rod. We will call this a 90% belly. A 45% belly would have less curve in the line and a 100% belly would have more. A straight line swing or 0% belly would have no curve in the line.
When the fly is swinging at a good pace and angle, we will say it’s fishing. Not fishing means the speed and angle are wrong.
Now that we have our terms, what’s the swing we are looking for?
Read More »Weather Dictates When and How I Fish My Terrestrials
Every year, I’m asked by clients, when is the best time for them to come up and experience the terrestrial bite?
For years, I kept a terrestrial fishing journal to help me better serve my clients. The journal documented the arrival times of specific terrestrials and when I first started catching fish on them. It seemed to help me for a couple seasons, but after that, I started to become too reliant on the data in the journal, and I lost sight of the most important variable of all in timing the terrestrial season–weather. Depending on what the weather is doing for the current year, it can speed up or postpone the arrival of the terrestrial season. Some years it will only sway the start of the terrestrial season a week in either direction, while other years, it can sway the arrival well over a month. Understanding the role weather plays in the lives of terrestrials can help anglers nail down more accurately when the terrestrial season will begin and peak in their area. If you can be one of the lucky few to time and start fishing terrestrials before everyone else does, you can be rewarded with some of the biggest fish of the year.
THE EFFECT WEATHER HAS ON TERRESTRIALS
Having consistent warm weather is a major factor in the arrival of terrestrials. Cold nights during late spring will keep terrestrials hiding in their burrows and out of sight during most of the day. During years when these cold snaps linger on, it will delay the arrival of the terrestrial season significantly. Sun is a major player in getting the terrestrial fishing going as well. I’m not 100% sure of this, but I think once the rainfall drops off in the summer, and the hot sun sucks out most of the moisture content found in the plants that the bugs are eating, the terrestrials are eventually forced to search out food sources that have a higher moisture content. It makes since to me at least, that the best places for the bugs to find moisture rich plants during the heat of the summer would be around water. All living things, including terrestrials, need water to survive. Furthermore, sun is the fuel for plants to grow, and many of our streams and rivers have large amounts of flowers that bloom (late spring, early summer) along the banks that provide food (nectar) for terrestrials. During above average rainfall years, where you’ve got more cloudy days than sunny days, it can inhibit or postpone the growth and blooming of these flowers that attract the terrestrials, and therefore, they won’t be attracted to the water and available to the trout. So when you’ve got a really wet spring and summer you can expect the terrestrial season to be late. It’s important to note also, that years with high rainfall, will significantly increase the water levels on our trout waters and postpone the terrestrial bite. Too much rainfall will keep the bugs from showing up, and raise water levels, which will discourage trout from expending the energy to rise to the surface to eat them, particularly if there’s sufficient food below the surface for the trout to eat. High water also flushes out terrestrials much quicker than during average water flows. You won’t find terrestrials swirling around in eddies for long periods of time.
WHERE TO FISH YOUR TERRESTRIAL PATTERNS FIRST
Read More »WTF Is A Steelhead Anymore?
By Louis Cahill
Is all the arguing over steelhead hurting the fish?
I’ll probably be sorry I started this, but I have a point to make. It seems you can’t say the word “steelhead” without starting an argument. The fighting points are numerous. Are beads flies? Are hatchery steelhead killing wild steelhead? Is nymphing wrong? But the most contentious and, frankly, mind bending disagreement is over what a steelhead actually is.
There are historically two sides of this argument, although lately there seems to be a third, I’ll get to that later. It’s a classic East vs. West conflict. Eastern anglers refer to fish running from the Great Lakes as steelhead and western anglers insist that only fish running from the saltwater are steelhead. Yelling and name calling ensue. Here’s why both sides are wrong.
First, let me be blunt about this, a steelhead is by definition an anadromous fish. That means it runs from saltwater to fresh. End of story. No fish which lives its entire life in fresh water is a steelhead. It’s not my job to make definitions so don’t blame me.
Here it is from Webster.
Steelhead—noun, plural steel·heads (especially collectively) steel·head.
a silvery rainbow trout that migrates to the sea before returning to fresh water to spawn.
anadromous —adjective
(of fish) migrating from salt water to spawn in fresh water, as salmon of the genera Salmo and Oncorhynchus (distinguished from catadromous ).
That said, west coast anglers can be real assholes about it.
I’ve had this argument over more beers than I can count, and I’m sure I’ll have it again. One of my west coast buddies will start railing about lake-run rainbows and the knuckle- draggers who fish for them and I’ll tell them that their attitude is killing steelhead. Here’s what I mean.
Look around yourself on any western steelhead river.
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