The Grey Sulphur

How to properly "match the hatch"

2012-03-08T10:39:00.005-05:00

1. Start by picking a destination. Try to pick a place that has some bugs and fish that like to eat them.

2. Take the time to look around and enjoy the outdoor experience.

3. Locate some emerging insects. In this case it's some kind of stonefly and an Epeorus pleuralis mayfly (Quill Gordon to the layperson).

4. Locate something in your fly box that's similar in size and color to one of the bugs you observed and tie it to your leader.

5. Cast the imposter to unsuspecting fish and catch a bunch of them. You've now successfully "matched the hatch" - even though the fish are so innocent you would have caught them on anything.

A Nice Little Sunday

2012-02-27T17:24:00.003-05:00

I stopped by to check out the house progress on my way out to the Park this Sunday. Things are moving along pretty well. Most of the siding is up and it won't be long until the outside of the house is done. Things look pretty much the same on the inside, although they did install the tubs and showers.

After snapping a few pics at the new homestead, I made my way out to the Park to enjoy the blue bird day. Water levels were pretty much perfect.

And the fish proved to be obliging.

I spent several beautiful 70 degree days trapped in the office last week and even though the air temps only made it into the low 50s on Sunday, the bugs and the fish didn't seem to mind.

Bugs were hatching and fish were rising wherever the sun was shining. Things were pretty dead in the shady spots and I found myself just skipping over them after a while. No use dredging the bottom with a nymph when fish were rising right up around the corner.

I eventually made my way pretty far upstream and decided to call it a day when the sun dipped below the western ridge.

But I found one last sunlit run and a fish to end the day before the hour long walk back to the truck. Not a bad Sunday at all.

Now it's starting to look like a real house!

2012-02-18T12:38:00.000-05:00

The New House - Progress Pics

2012-02-12T20:18:00.001-05:00

What a Difference a Couple Days Makes

2012-02-08T23:25:00.001-05:00

On Sunday I tagged along with Marty to a steep little feeder creek that I had never fished before. Saturday's warm weather turned into a chilly, blustery morning and a light snow fell as we made our way through the holler. Our theory, which was better than admitting the alternative, was that the sudden weather change put the fish off. We couldn't buy a bite from our little spotted friends who had been so cooperative only one day prior. Since we only had a half day to waste and couldn't wait around for things to heat up, we admitted defeat and retreated to Richmond with the smell of skunk strong upon us.

Feeling less than satisfied with the whole thing, I checked the forecast for the next several days and saw that Tuesday was supposed to be a Blue Sky day with temps in the high 50s. I made a quick call to make sure Marty could take the day off and plans were set in motion to remedy our Sunday failure.

We started bright and early with the whole day ahead of us. Sketchy bottom access at our chosen destination meant we were starting from Skyline Drive. A quick 3 mile hike from the top of mountain to the lower Park boundary ensued. Things were looking good when we got there.

Numerous plunge pools and deep punch bowls...

Gave up some nice fish by dredging the depths with heavy nymphs.

But there was some good looking dry fly water between the deep spots that kept us changing flies on a regular basis.

Little olive mayflies had fish looking toward the surface and a small parachute Adams enticed a few good ones to chow down.

Perfect water levels combined with the mild weather has made this the best winter fishing I can remember in quite some time.

And of course, Marty had to show off...

With another huge native brook trout.

It's shaping up to be one heck of good year.

The New House - Progress Pics

2012-02-05T16:30:00.000-05:00

The title says it all - I'm in the process of having a house built. I'm finally going to move out of my current craptacular abode and into a brand new house. I'm pretty excited about the whole thing so I decided I would keep a record of the progress here on the blog. I hope you'll indulge me as I go along even though this has nothing to do with the normal subject, other than that it will put me about a half hour closer to trout.

View from the driveway, looking at the future site.

From the driveway, looking across the front yard.

Preparation for the foundation.

From the edge of the garage, looking back towards the road.

More to come later.

Back Where It All Begins

2012-02-04T21:27:00.012-05:00

I got my fly fishing start on this creek years ago. It was the very first place I visited in Shenandoah National Park, and it was before I had even the slightest clue about what I was doing. One year, I asked for a fly rod for Christmas and my folks came through with a 9' 5 weight Cabelas rod and reel. To complete the outfit, I went out and bought a box full of dry flies and the cheapest rubber waders I could find. Then I set my sights on catching some trout in the SNP. It was January, and the creek was mostly frozen, but that didn't stop me from waddling down from Skyline drive in my rubber waders and casting dry flies to half-frozen trout. Needless to say, I took a skunking.

After those first few months, I learned a few things:

1. A 9' 5 weight rod is WAY too big for the tight quarters on these little streams.

B. Trout aren't likely to eat dries when the stream is half iced over.

4. Rubber waders suck.

I went forth with my newly acquired knowledge and began to catch a few fish here and there - but I never went back to my first creek. So this morning I decided to pay her a visit. On the way in, I passed this barn smack in the middle of UVA country. I imagined all of the little preppy, rich kid students having to pass it every day and had a good chuckle. The day was off to a good start.

Part of the reason I never returned here is that this stream suffered major damage in a 1995 flood. Large amounts of rain fell quickly and caused numerous landslides where large chunks of mountain side piled into the hollow below. As it washed downstream, it took tree cover (and shade) with it, channelized the stream bed and decimated the fish population. With so many other opportunities in the Park, it seemed a good one to stay away from. However, in the 17 years since, the stream has begun to heal itself and the fish are making a comeback. I received some intel from a trusted friend that the fishing was pretty good now, so I decided to see for myself. He was right.

It seems as if Mother Nature has been doing a pretty good job of fixing the stream - lots of riffle, run, pool sequences and riparian vegetation. There are still some deep, featureless areas and stretches that won't see much shade in the summer, but it seems to be coming along.

Cookie cutter 6 - 7" fish provided pretty good action as I made my way upstream. They were hunkered down on the bottom and I had to go deep with heavy flies.

And one nicer specimen made the day. It's good to see some nice big, healthy brookies in here and, in time, it should only get better.

The creek flows north to south, roughly parallel with Skyline Drive, and it's not one of the higher gradient streams in the Park. It does have several feeder streams that plunge straight off the mountain before joining the main creek, creating some pretty stunning visuals.

After seeing that from the bottom, I had to climb up there and get a closer view. A big brookie has to live in this plunge pool but I flogged the water for 15 minutes and came up empty. A buddy assures me that there are fish above this point so it stands to reason that they would be here too. I'll have to try it again this spring to see.

I'm excited and encouraged that good fishing has started to return to this creek. It seems like most places these days are getting worse, so it's refreshing to see what can happen when we just leave something alone and let nature take its course. And it's nice to have another creek to put into the rotation.

Plan B

2012-01-29T21:37:00.003-05:00

I took advantage of today's nice weather by getting out for the first time in weeks. I had my heart set on a little creek that was generous to me last winter and had been looking forward to it for days. It was not to be. I got all the way there, found 2 trucks in the lot and knew that I needed a plan B. I broke out the map and decided on a drainage that Marty and I visited 2 winters ago. On that trip, we got all the way back in there and found the water not exactly in a liquid state.

Obviously a return trip was warranted and I figured it should be a little better today. On that trip we came in the from the bottom on a pretty sketchy road. Since I was already up on Skyline Drive today, I started the long trek down in there.

Things looked a little more promising this time around.

And the fishing turned out to be pretty decent.

The scenery was nice although not quite as dramatic as the ice sculptures I remembered from last time.

The day warmed into the mid 40s and I started noticing a few fish hanging out near the surface in the sunny spots. Out came the dries and the fish obliged. You've got to love a fish that will happily eat a dry fly in January. One of my biggest brookies ever.

As is often the case, plan B turned out better than the original. So, even though I didn't get what I wanted, I got what I needed.

Choose your fishing partners wisely!

2011-12-31T22:09:00.004-05:00

You're having a fine day working your way up a favorite creek with a trusted fishing buddy.

And hooking the occasional little fish.

You pause to look upstream and quickly survey the spots on this little stream that are most likely to hold a nice trout. You spot a nice pool up ahead and know that a good fish has to be living there.

You stop for a second to fuss with your tackle and grab a quick drink of water. When you look up again, your fishing partner has leapfrogged ahead of you and claimed the pool for his own. He doesn't even look sorry about it.

You briefly entertain throwing a big rock into the hole to show him what you think of his tactics, but decide instead to see what happens. He is rewarded for his devious ways.

The pool gives up the biggest native brook trout you've ever personally witnessed. Even though, by rights, this should have been your fish, you are happy for your buddy.

You think: It's a good thing we're friends.

Down Time

2011-12-20T19:27:00.000-05:00

It feels like I haven't been fishing in forever. In actuality, it's been the longest stretch I've gone without wetting a line in several years - almost 2 months. I may be about to lose it if I don't remedy this situation soon. My recent weekends have been filled with house hunting and the task of finding just the right house has prevented me from getting in any stream time. On the weekends I've been free, the weather hasn't cooperated. Oh well, hopefully I'll be back in the game soon. In the meantime, I've been spending a lot of time at the vise trying to get the boxes stocked. So in an effort to not let the blog go completely by the wayside, I thought I would post up some pics of the patterns I've been working on.

Small rubber legged stonefly nymph:

March Brown Para-Wulff.

Christmas Para-Wulff I tied for the weekly tying contest on my local forum:

My take on the Tellico Nymph. A true Southern classic:

Flashback Pheasant tail nymph:

And my favorite. A stonefly pattern that I wasted a bunch of materials and hooks on until I was satisfied with how it came out. I think this one's going to be a killer:

Fly Tying for Dummies

2011-11-10T00:47:00.001-05:00

What follows is my first attempt at a fly tying video. I mostly just wanted to see how this would turn out and I'm generally pretty happy with the results. I decided to spare everyone my commentary and set the video to music instead. As witty and insightful as I'm sure it would have been, I think the tunes are more enjoyable. I picked an effective streamer pattern that can be tied in an endless array of color combos and is quick and easy to tie. Let me know what you think.

Release

2011-10-31T19:31:00.000-04:00

Just a short video I put together from several trips to TN. Most of these clips have been in my other videos but I thought they would make an interesting collection strung together by themselves. Hope you enjoy.

Back to Tennessee

2011-10-27T09:55:00.007-04:00

Once again I found myself in East TN last weekend with some buddies from school. I've been wanting to make a true video report for a while but always seem to fail at getting enough good video to tell a story. I end up with basically a picture slide show with some video thrown in. One of these days I'll get it right. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy.

A Perfect Pause

2011-10-10T17:10:00.004-04:00

Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause between the opposing miseries of summer and winter. ~Carol Bishop Hipps

This quote sums up the way I feel about the month of October pretty well. It's my favorite month - a perfect pause. I love the crispness in the air on those first cool mornings. I love the colors of Autumn as the greens of summer turn to oranges, reds and yellows. I love the cool nights, sitting around a campfire, swapping stories with good friends. And I love the fishing that October brings.

Trout are gorging themselves in preparation for the spawn and the hardships of winter. They are lit up in vibrant colors that match their surroundings. October is just a pause, and I know it won't last long, so I get out and enjoy it while I can.

This weekend I met a great group of guys from my local fly fishing board for the 24th version of PFF (Psycho Fly Fishers). They've been doing this event twice a year for the last 12 years and were nice enough to allow me to join in this time around. East TN was the destination of choice on what is arguably the finest trout river in the South.

Since I had never met any of these guys in person, and I was the new guy in an established group, I was a little nervous about how things would go. I needn't have worried though as they made me feel welcome right away. Each day began with a group breakfast and ended with a group dinner followed by ample campfire time. Having a professional musician in the group was a nice touch.

The fishing that came in between was pretty good too. Midging was the name of the game in the morning, but some sulphurs popped off every afternoon, giving us an opportunity to land a few fish on dries.

The weather and the foliage were as outstanding as the fishing. Blue skies and mid 70s during the day cooling off to comfortable sleeping weather at night.

Eventually, all good things must come to an end and this was no exception. The end came too soon, as it always does, but I got to meet some great new friends and catch a few trout. The perfect weekend - a perfect pause.

Redemption

2011-10-02T20:30:00.005-04:00

Fast forward 2 weeks and I'm back on the stream. College football and various errands kept me at home last weekend but I'm planning on taking my revenge today. I've picked a little stream on the SNP boundary that holds browns and a few lonely brookies. I'm in a brown trout kind of mood.

The Hardy has been mailed out to see if it can be salvaged so I dust off an old Meisselbach that goes well with the vintage cane.

Drizzly, cold weather does not bode well for dry fly fishing so I go with the stonefly again. It doesn't take long for the fish to show they approve.

I've been intent on the business at hand and finally take a look around. I notice that some of the leaves are starting to turn - mostly yellows right now but it won't be long before the reds and oranges turn these creeks into a painting.

I continue making my way upstream and pick up a few fish here and there. I wouldn't call it a feeding frenzy but this creek has never been about numbers anyway.

I sit down to eat some lunch and reflect on the morning. I've fooled a few fish, managed not to bust my ass again and successfully put my last outing behind me - and that's good enough for today.

Sometimes it's just not your day

2011-09-18T20:27:00.009-04:00

Everything starts out well enough. Yesterday's greyness gives way to blue skies over the mountains as the sun burns through early morning clouds. I am on my way to a favorite trout stream that treated me very well last October. My mood brightens along with the day.

Arriving at the stream, I find that the water levels are perfect. Temperatures are just right for wet wading and hiking without breaking a sweat. This is going to be fun.

I fish an elk hair caddis with no action for a little while and then switch to a big stonefly nymph when I see empty shucks here and there on the rocks. I had been hoping for some dry fly action but it doesn't really matter because I'm about to slay 'em with nymphs.

I make my way farther and farther upstream and can't buy a look. I switch back to the dry. No dice. I try a different nymph. Nothing. I should be catching fish but I'm not. I grow impatient. In my haste to get to the next spot, I go too quickly and it happens. My foot comes down on a slimy rock so slick it feels as if it's covered with ice.

I go ass over teakettle in the middle of the creek. Laying on my back, wedged between two boulders, I utter some words that would not make my Mom proud of me. I have wacked my shin hard enough that it takes several minutes to stop hurting. I stand up and start to collect myself and realize that something is very wrong with my reel. Then I look at it.

The frame is bent so badly on my prized English made Hardy reel that the spool cannot turn. I utter a few more words that are the foulest I can think of, but which I feel are entirely appropriate for the occasion. This does not make me feel any better. I remove the spool and pull enough line off to be able to make a reasonable cast, replace the spool and continue upstream. I still have caught no fish today.

I fish for another hour or so, but my heart is no longer in it. I hit the trail and retreat down the mountain with no fish and a busted reel.

Along the road back to the parking lot I pass the flower bed fisherman and think that I would have been better off down here with him.

Sometimes it's just not your day. But there's always tomorrow.

I can run and jump and fish

2011-09-11T22:14:00.005-04:00

After a few months of doing nothing but spring creekin', I was ready for something different. To that end, I broke out the brookie flies, strung up the trusty 7030 and pointed my truck towards one of my favorite places in the world. My plan was to do it up right and start the morning with some biscuits & gravy at the Mountaineer Cafe in Madison but the snooze button won out. I got a later start than planned and had to be content with a blueberry muffin from Sheetz - the brookies were waiting.

My usual starting point. There's a stretch of fairly unproductive water above this spot that I decided to skip today - I would keep to the trail.

Problem is the trail kicks straight up as it climbs the ridge above the creek. A summer of walking flat meadows has made my legs soft. Nothing to do but make the slog.

Finally the trail swings back towards the stream and I jumped off above the marginal water at the top of the first big waterfall. Time to get down to business.

This stream produces some big brookies on a pretty regular basis - big being relative to the size of the water and skimpy supply of food. The bigger fish were shy today but the ones that did come to hand were so purdy it didn't matter.

The scenery ain't half bad either.

Nothing really happening today in the bug department so I picked a yellow stimulator on the theory that brookies like yellow - and stimulators. It works as often as not.

And I finally arrived at the spot that occupied my brain last night and most of the morning. I stood and took it in for while.

The honey hole was being moody today but did give up one chunky char.

That was as high as I was going today and good enough for a first trip back. Back to the truck where dry clothes and the cooler were waiting.

Pre-Hurricane Party

2011-08-26T22:36:00.002-04:00

With the impending weather disaster looming over the east coast, I figgered this weekend was going to be a wash out. Only one thing to do - take Friday off and go fishing. I woke up earlier than I thought I was capable and made the 2 hour drive out to the valley. The creek is purdy at dawn.

I made the effort in hopes of finding browns rising to tricos and although the bugs were swarming in abundance, the fish were uninterested. No worries though because terrestrials still proved effective a bit later in the day. Action was pretty consistent with little browns in this size range.

I don't know how many times I've pointed the video camera at a likely looking spot in the hopes of capturing a take, but it rarely works. Fish usually get lockjaw when video is rolling, but it worked today.

On a happy note, I spotted our big fish from a few weeks back again today. He relocated about 50 yards upstream to a new hole and I never would have seen him if he didn't rise for, and refuse, a real hopper. If the picky SOB refuses the real thing there didn't seem to be much hope for my foam imitation, and sure enough, he scoffed at me. I tried him with a beetle and then a streamer before admitting defeat and calling it a day.

Now on to storm watching for the rest of the weekend.

Hall Pass

2011-08-17T21:11:00.001-04:00

I'm not sure how he did it but somehow Marty wrangled another hall pass and a day of fishing this Sunday, so we pointed ourselves toward our spring creek in the Valley and the big brown that eluded us last Friday. The forecast called for rainy weather and cooler temps, which we were both looking forward to. As it turns out, the rain held off and the sun came out to bake us again.

The trico spinners fall like clockwork on certain stretches of this creek and we were able to take advantage of that in an area we haven't visited in a while. Thick clouds of bugs brought a bunch of smallish browns to the surface.

I usually start out with a comparadun pattern because I can see it, and only switch over to an actual spinner if the fish refuse it. Most of the time the fish will take the dun just as well.

Later in the morning we switched back to terrestrials and started searching out the channels and undercuts. Unfortunately our big fish from last week was a no-show today. I hope he was just tucked away and that nobody caught or killed that fish.

I stuck with a sorta modified version of a Charlie Boy Hopper and Marty fished a foam beetle. Both patterns worked ok and we caught some slightly better fish in the afternoon.

A beetle eater:

And a hopper eater. I hooked this fish while standing on the wrong side of a slightly too high electric fence and took a pulse to a sensitive area trying to hop over - which sucked.

Things got steamy mid-afternoon and since we were expecting rain and didn't bring much to drink, we decided to call it a day. Since this is one of the few summer options we have here in Virginia for trout, I'm sure we'll be back soon.

One last fish showing his pearly whites for the camera.

Mental Health Day

2011-08-07T20:37:00.002-04:00

Marty called me at work last Wednesday and said he needed a mental health day. It's usually not hard to convince me to skip work for a day anyway, but I could hear a slight frantic quality in his voice, and knew he was serious. A brand new baby girl doesn't leave much time for frivolous pursuits like fishing, and because of that he hadn't been out in over a month. He needed it bad so we scheduled a Friday trip to the only chilly water around.

An early morning storm soaked us to the bone and colored up the water a bit so we started out slow.

Not getting much action on our favorite stretch we switched things up and decided to try another locale. About that time the skies cleared and the sun came out.

Temps rose to near death levels but it also dried the grass and got the hoppers active. Hundreds of hoppers jumped and flew as we made our way upstream. A few ended up in the water on their own but we amused ourselves like a couple of kids by catching a few and tossing them to the fish. A few of our imitations also ended up in fish lips.

Cows in the creek - Marty is thinking about making them into burgers.

Don't get your hand too close to one of these when leaning over a bank to land a fish. He'll eat your arm off.

Sometimes the fish were a little hesitant to take a hopper and found ants more to their liking.

We didn't manage any big boys but did locate one huge fish that proved too smart for our offerings. I briefly considered impaling a live hopper on a bare hook but since I didn't have any bare hooks, I gave up on the idea. We worked that fish for a solid hour before he finally tired of the game and headed back to his undercut. We called it quits after that and headed home with some nice sunburns and a vow to get back and catch that fish. Hopefully there will be more to this story later...

Jackson River Lawsuit

2011-08-04T21:14:00.000-04:00

Most anglers in Virginia are all too familiar with the story of the Jackson River and the infamous King's Grant controversy. In the early 80s, the Jackson River was flooded to create Lake Moomaw, just outside of Covington, Virginia. Bottom releases of water from the lake created a cold water trout fishery below Gathright Dam, where a warm water fishery had existed previously. This new trout fishery predictably increased pressure on the river and tensions between landowners and recreational users ensued. Then, in the mid 90s, a group of landowners on the Jackson sued a fishing guide in an effort to keep him from fishing on their stretch of the river. These landowners produced evidence of a 1750 grant from King George II that conveyed property on both sides of the river and the exclusive privileges of fishing, hunting, hawking and fowling. The case went all the way to the Virginia Supreme Court and the court, in its infinite wisdom, ruled in favor of the landowners, although the Jackson had previously been ruled a navigable river. According to state law, the stream bed of a navigable river cannot be privately owned and is held by the state for its use by the public. In this case, the King's Grant superseded state law.

The Jackson River at Indian Draft:

The area affected by the decision was a relatively short stretch of river below the dam and the rest of the river remained open to public use. Anglers were free to fish in the river, float and wade on the stream bed, as long as they remained below the high water mark. The state provided public access points as well as literature and signage that designated the areas open to public use and those that were off limits. Things went along fine until last year when another group of anglers were sued for civil trespass.

It seems that a developer purchased a large chunk of land on the Jackson River and had begun selling smaller plots. Part of the sales pitch for these plots of land was that they came with private, exclusive use of the river. Signs started appearing, where none had been before, proclaiming that wading and fishing was prohibited. In some cases, these new signs were directly across river from the public access points and signs put up by the state that said fishing was allowed. The developer has now sued a group of anglers for doing something that the state says they were allowed to do. Confused yet?

It seems pretty clear to me that the developer, who is very well funded, has a plan to bully his way into gaining his private river. He is claiming that he has the same type of King's Grant possessed by the landowners in the original case. To date, this evidence has not been produced and it is highly doubtful that it even exists. By suing these anglers, who cannot afford his type of justice, he's hoping that they will not be able to afford to fight him in court and just go away. He'll win his case and get his private river.

A wild, Jackson River Rainbow:

Obviously, this would set a dangerous precedent that could endanger many of our public waterways. Imagine not being able to float or fish on the James, the Shenandoah or any of our favorite rivers. The same thing could happen on those rivers or any other river in the country. This isn't just a Virginia issue, it's a national issue. The public can't sit back and let this one rich developer buy this case because he picked on people who couldn't afford to fight him for the long haul. The anglers that were sued have been fighting this case, but are at their financial limits and need our help.

So, how can you help? Visit the Virginia Rivers Defense Fund at www.virginiariversdefensefund.org and make a donation to help these guys out. Anything helps - it doesn't have to be a lot of money, but if we all contribute we can do our part to protect our right to use our public rivers.

Spring Creek Season Has Begun

2011-07-01T17:14:00.002-04:00

As Spring turns to Summer, my thoughts turn from little mountain creeks and brook trout to placid valley spring creeks and the big browns and rainbows that reside there. It's still a little early yet but things are off to a good start this summer. The stream is in good shape and the trout are actively looking for beetles and grasshoppers.

So far in the early mornings I've had some good luck with streamers. This rainbow took a bunny sculpin stripped through a deep hole.

Grasshopper heaven.

As the day gets going some fish have been willing to eat a little green Charlie Boy Hopper. This nice fish was sharing a run with a much bigger trout that I tangled with later that afternoon. Since I have no pictures of the bigger fish, you can probably guess what happened - but I'll be back.

Even the fall fish have developed a taste for hoppers.

And little browns tucked under bank side vegetation can't resist when you can sneak up on them.

I've always wanted to fish this run but it's impossible to get to. Wading is illegal here.

Marty hasn't been able to get out since he became a new father a few weeks ago, but managed to sneak a few hours during the week when he was supposed to be at work. You have to have your priorities straight.

Sometimes they just won't hold still.

Thanks for looking.

A Weekend of Bluegrass and Brook Trout

2011-06-06T19:04:00.004-04:00

I had the good fortune to spend the weekend at the Graves Mountain Festival of Music, where I spent some quality time with the old man. We enjoyed some fine bluegrass music and, since the festival was just outside the SNP boundary, I snuck away and chased some brookies as well.

Saturday morning I hit up an old favorite creek in the hopes of getting into browns on terrestrials. The browns were a no-show, but nice hatches of sulphur mayflies and yellow sallies had the brookies eager to feed.

Then it was back to camp to watch the show - and a good show it was. The highlights for me were Rhonda Vincent, The Boxcars, The Rye Holler Boys and Dailey & Vincent.

On Sunday morning I packed up camp and made a short drive to a nearby creek that I haven't fished for a while. The fishing was good again with sulphurs and sallies bringing the fish to the surface.

The mountain laurel was in full bloom and was an added bonus.

On the way out, I stopped and checked these guys out for a while. Texas Longhorns on Kentucky Bluegrass in VA...weird.

I've been to this show a bunch of times but not for the last several years. I think I'm going to have to make it a yearly occurrence again.

Memorial Day Brookies

2011-05-30T19:28:00.003-04:00

Andrew and I made it out to the best brookie stream in all the land today. The only problem was - so did everyone else. We decided to meet up at 6 am in an effort to beat the heat and the crowds but we were only successful on the heat part. It seemed like everyone else was out enjoying the Park on their holiday and we had dogs, swimmers and other anglers sharing the stream with us. There has always been plenty of hikers on this stream but I've never encountered another fisherman before today. About halfway up the hill, I noticed the wet boot prints and knew we had company. Even so, the stream was as scenic as ever and we caught some fish, so I call it a successful day.

Thanks to all of the brave men and women who paid the ultimate price in defense of our country. May their sacrifice not be forgotten.

Springtime on the SoHo

2011-05-25T22:03:00.006-04:00

I've been working on this video for the last couple days after returning from a Spring trip to my favorite river. We try to make the voyage twice a year in the Spring and Fall, and I wish I could do it more often. This year we were a little early for the epic sulphur hatch but the fishing didn't disappoint. Hope you enjoy!

It should be noted that I like to bust my buddy Cronin's chops (the big man) and he actually caught a ton of fish. Just not while I had the camera running. He has this river dialed in like few people do. Just sayin'.

Stripers After Work

2011-05-14T01:19:00.007-04:00

Downtown Richmond wouldn't be the first place you would think of when it comes to good striper fishing. I caught wind of it a couple years ago and finally decided to check it out - turns out the rumors were right. Much like the shad, the stripers move out of the Chesapeake Bay and run up the James River, all the way to Richmond, to spawn. After they do the deed, they turn around and make their way back out, so you have to enjoy 'em while you can.

The striper hole leaves a lot to be desired from a scenery standpoint. Some of the nice features include trash laying around, snarls of fishing line with weights big enough to anchor a boat hanging from the trees, a smell that's something like a cross between my brother's feet and a dead sucker, and a lot of "urban art"(graffiti). As bad as it is, you get over all of that pretty quickly if the fish are there.

These fish have to rank as the best fighting fish I've ever tangled with on a fly rod. Even the small ones will put a serious bend in a pretty stout rod. They usually burn some line on an initial run and are good at using the current to their advantage. They're just a bunch of fun.

If the fishing slows down you can keep yourself busy sampling some of the local culture.

And watching the herons stalk little fish is kinda fun.

Then it's back to work.

Marty came down for a while this afternoon and did what he usually does - he caught the biggest fish. Sometimes that guy really bugs me.

But I pulled a rabbit out of the hat with a good fish right at dark. Not quite as good as Marty's fish, but I'll take it.

Bear Sighting

2011-05-01T19:14:00.000-04:00

The gauges were showing that the streams in the Park were going to be high today - probably too high for good fishing - but I went anyway. What I found out when I got there was that the streams were too high for good fishing. Duh.

Even though the fishing stunk, I was treated to a fairly rare site, which more than made up for the lack of fish.

I've only seen bears on about 3 or 4 other occasions in my hundreds of trips to the Park, and I've never seen one with such a small cub before. What a treat.

After the Rain...Some Shad Fishin'

2011-04-27T18:33:00.000-04:00

We've had an extremely rainy April here in the Old Dominion and it has put a bit of a damper on the fishing. Of course this means that things should be better, for longer into the summer, but I'm more of a here and now kind of person. Is it too much to ask for the rain to come only during the week, and be spread out enough to not blow out the streams, while still keeping the aquifers charged up? I don't think so.

Last Saturday, the western part of the state received over 5 inches and every little creek was a swollen, angry mess. A lot of that extra water eventually made it's way into the James River and then on down to Richmond. The river crested this past Monday at almost 70,000 cubic feet per second, which is just slightly above the average for this time of year of about 7,000 cfs.

Mother nature gave us a break over the next several days and the streams dropped back down to fishable, but still full, levels for the weekend. Since Marty and I had been out to the mountains on Saturday, and my legs needed a break, I decided to stay in town and try for some shad on Easter Sunday.

One family was out for a little Easter stroll as I walked down to my spot.

When the shad are here in good numbers, the fishing can be almost perverted, with hookups on just about every cast. Today wasn't quite like that, but not bad either. After trying a few different flies, the fish finally let me know that pink and white was the color they wanted, and I started to hook up on a fairly regular basis.

For their size, these fish are some of the best fighters I've ever caught on a fly rod. They slam the fly with authority and usually go airborne 2 or 3 times. They have an amazing ability to spit the hook if you're not careful, and I probably lost as many fish as I landed.

Midway through the morning I hooked something that was substantially larger than anything I'd tangled with up to that point. I fought the fish for several minutes and then the hook pulled free. I never even got to see the fish but I want to think that it was probably a striped bass - a fish that follows the shad up the river and one that I've never tackled with a fly rod. Upon relaying the story to Marty he promptly informed me that it was probably an "ass-hooked" catfish. Thanks buddy.

I went back to catching shad until I noticed that my arms were turning a nice shade of purple. It seems I had lathered up my neck, face and ears with sunscreen but neglected the arms. It was time to call it a day.

The Swan Song

2011-04-25T21:16:00.003-04:00

Well, not exactly a swan song, but pretty close. Followers of this blog have heard me talk about my good buddy Marty countless times. We've shared car rides and trout streams from New York to Tennessee over the last several years. But that's all about to end. No, he's not sick or moving out of the area - he's about to have a baby - the poor SOB.

I'm only kidding of course because congratulations are in order, but this is going to seriously cut into the amount of time he can devote to goofing off with a fly rod in hand. I'm selfishly thinking about the solo fishing trips that are in my future and all of the extra gas money it's going to cost me, while taking solace in the fact that I'll be chasing trout while he's changing poopy diapers.

Since the date is coming up pretty quick, we've been getting in as much fishing as possible while he' still a free man. The weather has been working against us, but the streams in SNP finally dropped to fishable levels this weekend, and we planned an all out Saturday assault on a favorite east sloper.

The fishing was good right out of the gate and the weather turned out better than forecast. We were expecting some early rain, but that held off and the sun even poked through the clouds a few times.

The stream was still pretty full and some of our favorite holes were a little too high to fish well.

Dry fly fishing was good at times but there were spots where the fish were unwilling to come up through the heavy water to feed on the surface. They were usually willing to take a nymph if you could get it down to them.

Wildflowers are still in bloom. I think this is a Trillium.

And the bugs made a strong showing.

This is one of the prettiest and most rugged streams in the Park.

Towards the end of the day, Marty landed this 10" beast (after I gave him the right fly). On a previous trip he spotted an even bigger fish in the same pool but this one wasn't a bad consolation prize. I made careful note of the spot as I'm hoping to send Marty a nice picture of that 12" fish sometime next month when he's on diaper duty.

Oh, the memories...

April (not May) Flowers

2011-04-13T21:01:00.002-04:00

Last April, I was lucky enough to spend a day in the Park fishing with my Dad, where we had a great time even though the fishing turned out to be pretty lousy. This year my Mom wanted to come along to spend some quality time with her son and to enjoy some of the wildflowers that bloom in the spring. I haven't shared a trout stream with my Mom since I was a kid and I have hazy memories of those trips with her and my Grandma. Once again the fishing was inexplicably lousy, but it didn't matter, and the only thing that could have made the day better would have been if Granny was able to join us.

My Mom is a wealth of information when it comes wildflowers - knowledge passed to her from her Mom. I'm afraid that I'm a lost cause when it comes to this, for even though I enjoy looking at them when they're in bloom, the names go in one ear and out the other. Even though the flowers weren't quite in full swing yet, we saw plenty as we worked our way up a favorite east slope creek. So here are few of them, compliments of my Mom.

This one is called Bloodroot. The sap in the roots of this flower was used by Native Americans to color their clothing and make war paint. Cool.

Bluets:

Great Chickweed:

Unknown:

This one is called Coltsfoot, is edible, has a sweet taste, and is used to make cough syrup. I felt fine so I didn't try one...

When my Mom wasn't identifying the flowers, she was busy taking some video of me not catching fish. Here's a quick clip that pretty much exemplifies the day as far as the fishing was concerned. It's a good thing the company was good.

April Showers

2011-04-12T19:12:00.001-04:00

The weather has been downright uncooperative around here lately. I've been looking for some of those bluebird spring days with comfortable temps in the 60s and sunshine. We've had some during the week while I've been stuck behind a desk staring at spreadsheets and email, but when the weekend rolls around things turn nasty. To a weekend warrior such as myself, this is deeply troubling. In an effort to cheat fate, my good buddy Cronin and I decided to take a Friday off and head out to the Park to chase some brookies. Things looked promising up until last Wednesday when the forecast changed and showed that rain was on the way. Since we already had the day off, we decided to stick it out and go anyway.

We started early and the weather seemed promising at first. We even saw some blue sky on the drive out to the mountains- but it wouldn't last. By the time we got down into the creek, the skies opened up and didn't close for the rest of the day. Fishing in the rain isn't my favorite thing to do, but it beats sitting in the office, and the fishing turned out to be pretty darn good, even in the downpour. I didn't take many pictures because of the weather but we each caught a couple dozen chunky chars, mostly on dries.

My man Cronin loves showing off his casting skills so I thought I would include this picture even though it turned out slightly blurry. You can see that he's got a sweet double haul and I'm sure it came in handy for the 10' cast he needed at this little pool. I also like his strategy of wearing the brightest orange jacket he could find - the fish love that.

All joking aside, it was good to get out with my old buddy because we don't get to fish together very often. Maybe one of these days I can show him what the Park is like when the weather is nice, the bugs are hatching, and the fish are stupid.

The Intruder

2011-04-03T21:12:00.000-04:00

Water levels were good, temps were fine, bugs were hatching, and I had caught one fish in 4 hours. Somethin' wasn't right. Then I saw him up ahead - the guy I had been unknowingly fishing behind all day. I hate that. There's nothing worse than spending a day casting flies to holes and runs that someone else has already tromped through. I cursed the intruder for trespassing on MY stream, made a vow to never again hit the snooze button (except on work days), and got out to go around him. As I neared, I watched him get out on the other side and start back down the hill. Good, now I had the place to myself and it was time to get down to business.

Up until that point, I had been content to take a few scenery pictures and a shot of some yellow flowers. My one and only fish of the day had come unbuttoned whiled I fumbled for the camera.

This little brown came from the second pool I fished after passing the intruder. He inspected and refused 2 different dry flies before taking an unweighted pheasant tail nymph.

Shortly thereafter, I hooked up with a nice brookie that wasn't as shy about taking the dry fly. One of my better brookies of the year so far.

Little Blue Quills and some bigger Quill Gordons were hatching most of the day. I fished a size 12 parachute Gordon and switched to a size 16 Olive (closest thing I had) when I found a fish that wouldn't eat the bigger fly.

This is one of my favorite holes on this creek. It gave up a 14" brown last April - today it gave up jack doodly squat.

A few more brookies were in the mood to eat as the hatch was winding down. After these fish, things cooled off again, and since I had a 45 minute slog back to the truck and a 2 hour drive home, I called it a day.

Dodging High Water

2011-03-14T21:02:00.003-04:00

We've recently gotten some much needed rainfall here in VA and it has the rivers and streams running full and fast. The James River here in downtown Richmond is a raging, chocolate mess and a quick look at the USGS stream gauges for the western streams showed plenty of blue and black dots for the weekend. Finding something fishable was going to be a challenge but the forecast of mild temps and bluebird skies meant that I was definitely going to try. Marty, Andrew and I thought that our best bet would be to concentrate our efforts on something small and high up the mountain.

We finally decided on a little feeder creek that joins the main stream just below the famous lower falls. I've never seen any statistics but this must be one of the most visited spots in the Park. It was a site to see with all of that extra water volume.

After we got back into the feeder things looked a little more manageable, although there were still plenty of spots that were too full to fish well.

There were lots of black stoneflies out and we saw some small olive mayflies, but still no Quill Gordons. Hopefully they'll be making an appearance any time now.

I started off fishing a stonefly nymph but switched over to a heavily weighted, tungsten bead green weenie after watching Marty land several fish on that pattern.

The fishing turned out to be better than expected and we all got into some decent size brookies. The average fish was definitely better than the last time I was on this creek and most of the fish were nice and plump.

As promised the weather was just about perfect. With temps in the mid 60s, I took the opportunity to leave the waders in the truck and wade wet for the first time this year, even though the guys thought I was crazy for doing it. The water was chilly but as long as I didn't stand in one spot long enough for my feet to freeze or go deep enough to get the valuables wet, it was bearable.

Blooms showing up in the treetops mean Spring should be pretty close.

Our exit point overlooking the valley of the main stream, showing one of my favorite sites - a Blue Ridge Mountain Sky.

A Bushwhackin' Good Time

2011-02-27T19:42:00.001-05:00

I've given myself the goal to visit as many streams within the Shenandoah National Park as my legs and lungs will stand. To that end, Marty, new guy Andrew, and I hit up another new crick today on the western slope. Once again, this stream has no trail and requires a substantial bushwhack to even get to it's upper reaches. From that point, you continue down as far as you like and fish your way back up. I was excited about the days prospects as soon as we parked the truck this morning but also knew that there was going to be some pain and suffering involved. This was our starting point - the creek is down there somewhere.

After the initial scramble down a very rugged hollow, we were greeted with this beautiful waterfall that's located on the upper reaches of the creek. We took a few minutes to admire it and continued on down the mountain.

Shortly thereafter, we came to another steep drop that forced us to take the long way around. This is the view from the bottom. As I snapped this photo I was thinking that I was not going to be having much fun making my way back up around these things at the end of the day.

We finally made it down to the point that we felt would give us plenty of water to fish and still make it out of there before darkness set in. Immediately we noticed fish hanging out near the surface - a welcome sight. I clipped off the nymph I had tied on at the truck and switched to a dry. It didn't take the fish long to show us that it was the right decision.

The morning clouds gave way to midday sun and it turned out to be a beautiful day on one of the hidden gems of the Park.

The shafts of light coming through the water made for a nice effect on this shot - a good brookie hanging out after the release.

There were a bunch of olives hatching as well as some stoneflies and little dark caddis. I was expecting to see some Quill Gordons but they never showed. They started hatching last year in February (in the snow) so I was surprised we didn't see a few. It didn't really matter though because pretty much any dry fly was drawing a strike in almost every pool.

Even the snakes were out enjoying the warm day - luckily we didn't encounter any of the dangerous kind. I entertained the thought of picking this little fella up to try to get over my girlish fear of snakes - but the idea quickly faded and I ended up wussing out.

We fished back up past the waterfalls and then made our way (slowly) back up to Skyline Drive, where I was happy to peel off the waders. The hike out did indeed involve some pain and suffering, especially for someone of my particular build, but was definitely worth it for that kind of fishing.

Edit: Sometimes in my excitement to post pictures or brag about a particular trip, I end up rushing the composition of a post. That's exactly what happened on this one, and after going back over it, I realized it needed a rewrite. So, for those that already read the original, this version is slightly different and hopefully a little better. I also finally figured out how to get bigger photos into my posts by posting links from photobucket instead of uploading them directly into blogger - duh.

The Tying Desk

2011-02-24T21:39:00.000-05:00

I sometimes wonder why I spend most of tying time searching through piles of stuff for a certain package of feathers or hair. One look at the state of confusion that my tying desk is in tonight answers that question pretty quick! I never seem to be able to tie multiple flies of the same pattern, instead preferring to tie one of this and one of that. This inevitably leads to piles of dubbing, feathers and who knows what else cluttering my desk and can send me on a 10 minute search for the hackle pliers or the whip finishing tool.

I'm sure my Mom would be disgusted...

Old Favorite

2011-02-19T18:11:00.000-05:00

I got back out on my favorite brookie stream in all the land today. This one never seems to disappoint, even when the fishing isn't all that great. I'm not really sure what it is about this little stream that makes it so special - it just is. There are other streams close by where you can catch more fish but there's always a chance of tying into a big one here. The canyon it runs through is steep and rugged and there are some surprisingly deep holes for a creek this diminutive. I guess it comes down to familiarity more than anything else. I've fished here countless times and have come to know it well. If I had to name a favorite creek among the 90 or so contained within the SNP, this one would be it.

Marty and I fished from fairly low all the way up to where the good water ends today. We caught some fish and, as usual, he did better than me. Even with our recent warming trend, the water was still stinging cold and we had to go deep with meaty nymphs to get any action. A black stone was the fly of the day for me.

A few fish chowed down on a green weenie...

This place is idyllic even in winter when the trees are bare, but you should see it in the spring when the wildflowers are blooming.

Sadly, I didn't tangle with any big fish today - this was the best I could manage. He came from the mother of all brookie holes and slammed the black stonefly.

A parting shot while he was sulking in shallow water before heading back to the depths. See you next time my friend.

The Weekend's Fishin'

2011-02-13T19:26:00.001-05:00

The weather has been bad enough around here lately, that 2 days in the low 50s with winds gusting 20 - 30 mph seemed like perfect fishing weather - so I went both days. I have been wanting to get back up on the uppermost stretch of my favorite spring creek for a while now. This stretch is an overgrown mess in the summer that's full of ticks, so I haven't been up there for a year or so. To me, it's the prettiest water on the creek.

Unfortunately, the fishing wasn't good and I took a skunking on my home water. I fished it hard from the top to the bottom, and had 2 strikes all day long - both of which I missed. These fish are very skittish about overhead threats and the bright sky kept most of the fish tucked away - but it was a nice day to be out anyway - even if I was dodging my back cast in the wind most of the day.

I met up with Marty on Sunday and we hiked into a remote stream in the SNP that we've been talking about trying for quite a while. There is no trail on this stream and it's chock full of fish, probably because of the lack of fishing pressure it receives.

The water was still a chilly 37 degrees and there was plenty of snow and ice, especially in the upper reaches. Even so, we caught a bunch of fish, mostly in the 4 - 6" range. I missed a couple better fish and saw plenty of good ones, so a return trip when things warm up is definitely in order.

There was a bunch of good dry fly water on this one so I really want to get back in there in March or April when the trout are more likely to be looking up.

Fly Tying with Davie McPhail

2011-02-08T19:26:00.000-05:00

For those of you that enjoy watching fly tying videos as I do, check out Davie McPhail's set of vids on YouTube. Some of his flies probably aren't as useful on this side of the pond, but there are plenty that are and you can definitely pick up some useful tips and techniques. I really enjoy his tying style and comments on the various patterns. The accent is fun too.

Here he is tying an elk hair caddis with rubber legs:

Winter Spring Creekin'

2011-01-24T22:42:00.000-05:00

The best way to cure a bad case of the shack nasties is to get out and go fishing - even if it is colder out than a well digger's back side. The thought of actually catching a few trout in the frigid conditions didn't seem too likely, but I needed to get out of the house. So, I set the DVR to record the football games and headed west towards trout water with Marty. We figured our best chance of success would be on one of the valley spring creeks. I've only been on this particular creek one time a few years ago and this was to be Marty's maiden voyage. We arrived, after a bit of driving around in circles, to blue skies and temps in the low 20s. The site of ice along the creek's edges didn't inspire much confidence.

This creek is mostly full of stocker rainbows that are much easier to catch than some of the other spring creek fish in the area, but there are also a few big wild browns. I spent most of the day on Saturday tying flies, so I wipped up a few bunny sculpins in the hopes of tempting one of those big browns.

The springs on this creek keep the water temps fairly favorable and the fishing actually turned out to be pretty decent. We didn't catch any of those big browns, but plenty of rainbows came out to play. Marty really got into a bunch of fish by dead drifting egg patterns and buggers slow and deep. Since fishing eggs to stockers is far too easy for any self respecting angler to do, I stuck with streamers and didn't land quite as many.

I did finally resort to drifting a nymph under an indicator and found a few willing bows that filled in the gaps between chipping ice out of my guides.

We fished until about 4:00 and headed for home where playoff football was waiting on the DVR. All in all, it was a successful day and it felt good to get out and catch some fish, although I'm ready for spring any time now...

Starting the New Year on New Water

2011-01-02T14:20:00.001-05:00

For the last few years, the Shenandoah Valley chapter of Trout Unlimited has been working with the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries along with local landowners to open a new 4 mile section of special regulation water just outside of Waynesboro, VA. Several very large springs just above the upstream boundary of the new stretch keep the water temps trout friendly on a year round basis and the stream is full of insect life, sculpins and dace to keep the trout well fed. Studies have shown that the browns that have been stocked over the last couple years have shown tremendous growth rates and there are already some nice size fish in the stream.

This new fishery opened up on New Years Day and I was anxious to get out there and see it. I've been excited about the opening since I heard about it a few months back. Not only is it refreshing to see new water opening up amid the ever increasing trend of landowners locking down access, but it's also only about an hour and a half from Richmond. If all goes well, it will save me a lot of time and gas money.

I was hoping that New Years Eve festivities would keep most people home on opening day, but that didn't turn out to be the case. Plenty of other anglers made the trip and the stream turned out to be fairly crowded. The fishing was pretty slow - probably from all the pounding - but I managed to fool a few by swinging a soft hackle in front of them. Most of the trout are still pretty small and this fish is pretty typical. In a year or so, they should be nice size.

Things picked up considerably right before sunset and I picked up a better fish by slowly stripping a woolly bugger in a deep hole. Not a monster but not bad either, and not a bad way to start the year. My guess is that this fish was probably from last years stocking.

I really hope that all anglers follow the rules, respect private property and make the local community happy about this decision to open the stream. Nothing will get things shut down faster than a bunch of knuckleheads leaving trash all over the place or poaching the trout. I think the stream has a lot of potential and we need to take care of it.

Lake Effect

2010-12-07T20:48:00.000-05:00

Since the very first time I met my good friend Marty, I've heard tales of monster trout in his boyhood stomping grounds. He grew up in Rochester, NY on the southern shore of Lake Ontario and started fishing those lake tributaries at an early age. I finally got tired of hearing about it and decided to experience it for myself. So, I managed to squeeze in a few days off from work and we headed North to check it out. His folks still live in the area and were nice enough to give us a warm bed and food in our stomachs for 5 days (Thanks again Mr. and Mrs. Romeo).

A recent slug of rain combined with a forecast of temps in the 20s, with snow every day, meant conditions weren't going to be optimal. We would endure high, muddy water and constant icy guides, not to mention frozen reels, feet and fingers. The blow out those streams received just a few days prior to our trip meant we would be confined to the smaller streams that would drop and clear more quickly. We drove all night on Thursday and arrived Friday morning to the only blue sky we would see for days, but it didn't last long and the snow started soon enough.

I started out fishing an old W&M Granger Favorite 6 weight bamboo rod - mostly because I really like that old rod and had the notion that it would be neat to land a nice brown or a steelhead on it. I didn't really expect to hook up on a 25" plus steelhead that might have tipped the scales at 8 or 9 pounds for my first fish, but that's exactly what happened. That 60 year old rod was up to the task (mostly) but I ended up with a pretty nasty set in the tip after that fish.

I gingerly nursed the rod through the rest of that first day, landing a decent brown, but opted for a more suitable 8 weight graphite for the rest of the trip.

I spent the 2 weeks prior to our trip tying various streamers, stonefly nymphs and sucker spawn patterns in 6 different colors, so I was well armed for battle. It turned out that I could have left everything at home except the chartreuse sucker spawn. It was too cold to swing streamers and we needed something bright for the fish to see in the muddy water. By going slow and deep, we were able to pick up at least a few fish every day.

Marty managed to spot this fish hanging out just downstream of a small King Salmon. We figured he was waiting on the Salmon to pair up and spawn so he could grab an easy meal. A well placed sucker spawn proved to be too tempting to resist.

A "little" lake-run brown.

Big fish in little bitty creeks equals lots of fun.

This brown actually looked happy to have been caught and flashed a big smile for the camera.

This guy was a little more angry about the whole situation.

Marty won the prize for big fish of the trip with this beast:

Hooked up and slamming the steel. That's some sweet stuff.

Did I mention that it was cold?

Smaller fish but shaped like a football, and check out those red gill plates.

Thanks to Marty for playing guide and showing me this awesome fishery. I already can't wait for next December.

November brookies

2010-11-21T21:10:00.000-05:00

A good buddy of mine made an exploratory trip into the mountains yesterday to check on the brookies and see if the spawn was winding down. He made this trip while I stayed at home to watch my beloved Hokies take down the hated Miami Hurricanes and book their trip to the ACC championship game. There are priorites and then there are priorities I guess.

Anyway, he reported back that the spawn was definitely over so we headed out this morning for a blitz up a new to me crick on the Northern East slope of SNP. I had been wanting to try a new creek that I've heard good things about but we arrived at the parking lot to find a couple anglers already heading up the trail. Since you can access 2 creeks from the lot, we were forced to go up the alternate, adding some grueling distance to the hike in. I wasn't too bummed because the alternate was new to me also and I was in the mood for new water.

It turned out to be a nice little stream with some good gradient in the upper stretches, which created some nice plunge pools and deep holes. The bottom of this one is pretty flat and good water is few and far between. We didn't start getting into fish on a regular basis until we got above the first waterfall. Even so, we caught a few small ones down low. I snapped a pic of this little fella because I admired his enthusiasm. I'm not even sure he could have swallowed that nymph...

Things started to look a little better as we got higher up the mountain.

And we started to pick up some slightly better fish. This was the best of the day for me.

The fish seemed sluggish and a little worn out from the spawn and the takes were very subtle. Things should improve over the coming weeks, if the levels hold up, as the fish start packing on the calories to recover and get ready for winter.

All in all it was a great day with another new stream checked off the list. We still have to get back out there and try the stream we originally intended but we've got all winter to get that done.

The Waiting Game

2010-11-14T18:30:00.000-05:00

Spawning time for the brookies can be a tough time for a mountain trout guy. We want to give our native trout the best chance we can for a successful procreation and as much as we want to get up in the hills - we don't. Stomping around in the streams and disturbing the fish could cost us countless fish in upcoming years, so we're forced to play the waiting game. Even the spring creeks down in the valleys aren't fishing very well right now, so the die hard wild trout angler is forced into action in less desirable locations. It's either that or not fish at all and that's not a very hard choice.

So Marty and I hit up the delayed harvest water in Waynesboro this morning in the hopes of at least tangling with a few stockers. Two pitiful washed out rainbows and a few fall fish later, we decided to high tail it over to one of the spring creeks thinking that at least it wouldn't be any worse. Things weren't much better and we both took a skunking on our favorite summer haunt. We had a couple flashes and follows on streamers and I briefly hooked up with a nice brown but it wasn't to be. I would call it a wasted day but for a juicy piece of intel we received from one of the owners of the local fly shop...more on that later.

I really hope the brookies are almost done gettin' busy because I'm tired of the waiting game.

Good Ole Rocky Top...

2010-10-27T11:56:00.001-04:00

I just got back from my biannual trip to Tennessee where I enjoyed 4 days of sleeping in a tent on the river and some fine tailwater trout action. What follows is basically a slide show of pics from the trip with a little video thrown in. I wish I had gotten some more video footage of the action to make this a little more interesting, but I guess I was too busy fishing. Anyway, I hope it's not too horrible for a first attempt at a video report. Enjoy.

Bears and Brook Trout

2010-10-17T18:43:00.000-04:00

After a Saturday filled with college football watchin' (Go Hokies!), I decided to make one last trek out to the Park for some brookie action before the spawn starts. Next weekend, I'll be in TN chasing big browns on the South Holston and after that, the spawn should be in full swing in the mountains. That means it'll be time to give the brookies a break so they can make some babies. Marty was of the same mindset and we headed to our mutual favorite crick bright and early this morning to try to go out in style.

We got a nice surprise on the hike in as we rounded a turn and came across a black bear out for a leisurely morning stroll. I fumbled around and managed to get the camera out in time to snap this crappy photo before he bounded off up the ridge on the other side of the creek. What a cool way to start the day.

We fished up through the first section picking up a few small fish and came to the first big waterfall and plunge pool on this stream. The pool is nice and deep and looks like it should hold some monster brookies but I've never even managed a fish from this spot on all of my previous trips.

Today was a different story as it yielded my best fish of the day. Check out the colors on this fish - definitely dressed up and ready for courtship.

We continued upstream enjoying the fall scenery and picking up fish on dry flies in almost every pool - nothing huge but plenty of plump little brookies were in the mood to feed.

Working our way up into the canyon.

I was tossing a yellow stimulator most of the day and when we found a fish that didn't like the looks of that, they were still willing to eat a parachute mayfly pattern. There was no need to go deep today.

Finished off the day way on up the hill and decided to make our way back down to the parking lot with plenty of light left in the sky. On the way out we talked of new streams to try out this winter - I can't wait.

Statler and Waldorf's Most Excellent Epic Adventure

2010-10-10T21:32:00.000-04:00

On one of the fly fishing forums that we both frequent, Marty and I were recently likened to the 2 crusty old farts from the Muppet Show. Remember those guys, sitting up in the balcony, cracking wise and making fun of everyone? I think the guy who made the comparison meant it as an insult, but I definitely took it as a compliment - I mean, those guys were funny!

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be Statler or Waldorf but I guess it doesn't really matter. Anyway, we decided to visit an East slope SNP crick today that was good to us back in the Spring. It didn't disappoint today either. We arrived fairly early and since we had the whole day ahead of us, we decided to jump in at the bottom, right at the Park boundary. I took the opportunity to steal the first pool while Waldorf relieved himself on a nearby tree. It turned out to be a good decision because on the very first cast (no lie) this beast inhaled a Tellico nymph.

It was the best kind of day to be in the Park - comfortable temps for wet wading, really nice water levels and the leaves were just starting to turn.

Cooperative brookies were a bonus. We fished big bushy dry flies most of the day. The takes were kind of a slow roll on the fly and I missed several nice fish before I got the timing down.

I did have to resort to the infamous 'Pink Weenie' in one hole that was too deep for dry flies.

Waldorf got in the act with several big ole brookies too. And he even used his own flies this time.

I still didn't see any redds or fish paired up but it shouldn't be too long now. I hope they give us one more weekend of fishing like this before they start doin' their thing.

We are definitely lucky to have a place like the Shenandoah National Park so close to home. I can't think of a better way to escape the daily grind and dodge the curve balls that life occasionally throws our way - or as Marty once so eloquently described the thought - it's a solution to the daily armpit stink of life.

Some guys are just downright rude!

2010-10-04T18:29:00.000-04:00

After sharing countless fishing trips over the last year and a half, I thought I knew my good friend Marty pretty well. But then he shows up to our latest epic adventure without any flies and has to bum them from me - and proceeds to outfish me about 8 to 1 with my own flies! Now, I'm not usually much of a fish counter and I don't get very competitive with fishing, but you tend to notice stuff like that.

This Sunday, we decided on an old favorite crick that holds a mix of brookies and browns in the hopes of getting into some of the larger pre-spawn browns. Based on a tip about some hawgs that reside in the upper reaches, we took a new route that put us on the creek well above our normal starting point.

The water looked good and conditions seemed prime but I couldn't seem to buy a strike. Undeterred by my ineptitude, Marty was landing fish after fish. I don't even think he felt bad about it...

I finally managed to land one lonely, half decent brookie from a deep hole by dredging the bottom with tungsten and lead under a bobber:

I thought things were lookin' up there for a second but that was about it for me as far as half decent fish go. Marty continued to catch fish in almost every pool, and I think the count ended up something like 27 to 3 (not that I was counting).

So I guess I'll continue to fish with the guy but we'll just see if he ever gets any flies from me again. I'm quite sure he couldn't outfish me with his own flies...

Let's liven things up round here!

2010-10-02T17:58:00.000-04:00

The past week's rain and the stunning weather forecast meant it was time to get back out to the Park, so I loaded up the truck and headed West bright n' early this morning. After a short hike I put in at this lovely spot:

And promptly hooked up with this feller who was dressed in his finest in preparation for the upcoming freak fest:

Took advantage of the underwater feature of my new camera to get this shot of him sullking at my feet after the release:

Couldn't have been a nicer day:

The water was way up, a welcome sight, and I had to go deep with big heavy stonefly nymphs for most of the fish but I found a couple who were willing to look up:

Another underwater shot. I'm like a kid with a new toy:

And the mother of all brookie holes. It was generous again today:

Summer spring creek fishin' is fun but it sure was good to get back out to the mountains. Let's hope this water holds up and they have a good spawn this year.

Gettin' Ready

2010-09-27T20:03:00.001-04:00

Well, I haven't gotten much fishing in over the last several weeks, but I have managed to spend some time filling the fly boxes for an upcoming trip to the South Holston River. We've got a multi-day excursion planned for the end of October in the hopes of meeting up with some large pre-spawn browns and I'm hoping to show them something just a little different. Some of these flies are standard Holston patterns, some are proven fish getters and some are experimental.

Sulphur nymphs aren't yellow like the duns but this yellow nymph has worked well for me on the Holston in the past:

Swinging soft hackle flies is quickly becoming one of my favorite ways to fish and this partridge and yellow should do the trick:

This CDC Sulphur emerger has taken a lot of fish for me on the Holston. I usually fish it as a dropper off of a parachute or comparadun pattern and the fish probably take the emerger more often than the dun:

And now for the Sulphur duns: This is a divided wing parachute pattern I've been experimenting with that takes me a long time to tie. I've never done extremely well with hackled patterns on the Holston but I'm anxious to see if the realistic wings will make a difference to the fish:

A Sulphur CDC comparadun followed by a deer hair comparadun. Both are definitely proven producers on the Holston:

A new pattern I've been working on - a burned wing Sulphur no-hackle. I'm excited to give this one a workout.

If we happen to catch a spinner fall, hopefully these burned wing rusty spinners will do the trick:

Besides the Sulphurs, which pretty much always seem to be hatching on the Holston, we've got a good shot at seeing some Blue Wing Olives. Most of these are the same patterns I tie for the Sulphurs except in Olive instead of yellow and one to two sizes smaller.

Olive nymph:

Partridge and olive soft hackle with trailing shuck:

Olive CDC emerger:

Burned wing olive no-hackle:

Olive CDC comparadun and deer hair comparadun:

One thing's for sure, even if these patterns don't work worth a hoot, at least I can keep myself busy changing flies.

Somtimes it's better to be lucky than good

2010-08-09T18:54:00.000-04:00

First things first: I apologize to my legions of loyal fans out there for not updating the blog a little more this summer. I haven't had a lot to write about. The hot, dry weather has limited my fishing options and I've been spending a ton of time out at the little spring creek in the Valley. Aside from one marathon day out at the tailwater section of the Jackson River, I haven't fished anywhere else in about 2 months. Summer in VA can be like that and report after report about fishing in the same spot would get a little monotonous - just like the fishing.

Last year, I escaped the boredom of fishing the same stretch of the same little creek simply because there were plenty of BIG fish to keep me occupied. This year, it's been a little different. There's been lots of Japanese beetles, grasshoppers, ants and crickets out there for the fish to feed on, but the big boys from last year have been curiously absent. An occasional big fish will make an appearance but, sadly, it's been a far cry from the action of last year.

There has been one nice fish this summer that has been consistently active, showing himself almost every time I've made the trip. The problem is that his lie is on the other side of the creek under a bunch of low hanging branches, and it's almost impossible to get a drift over him. You can see him over there eating bugs and it's probably the most frustrating thing in the world to see a good fish within 25 feet of you and not be able to at least put a cast on him. I've tried for him on 5 or 6 different occasions and come up empty.

The fish was in his spot again on Sunday and I could plainly see him as I planned my presentation. My first cast was short, so I lengthened the line and shot another cast in his direction - right into the branches above him. The fish noticed the disturbance, tipped up and eyed my little foam beetle hanging from the leaves. I gave the line a little twitch and, by some miracle, the leader and fly came free. My beetle landed a little behind the fish but he swam over and ate it with the confidence of a fish who has eaten hundreds of bugs falling out of that tree.

It feels good to finally get a fish that has outsmarted me so many times - even if I did have to get lucky to do it.

Spring Creekin'

2010-07-06T18:19:00.000-04:00

The onset of hot, dry weather means it's time to say goodbye to my little mountain creeks for a while and concentrate on the spring creeks. With water levels dropping all over the state and temperatures climbing, it's definitely best to leave the native brook trout alone. As much as I enjoy the SNP in the spring and early summer, and as much as I hate the summer heat, I always find myself looking forward to the action that will ensue on the cool spring creeks as the browns and bows get accustomed to seeing beetles and hoppers.

I've made three trips out there in the last few weeks to 2 different creeks and although things aren't quite in full swing yet, it turned out to be three pretty good days. Here's an action shot of me fighting a big rainbow while showing off the guns and the gut. Maybe next time Marty will let me know he's taking my picture so I can suck it in a little. Thanks Breh!

Can anyone say Pellet Pig? This creek holds some wild fish but is also regularly stocked with rainbows by Trout Unlimited. I guess they put some big 'uns in there the last time:

This might be the biggest trout I've ever caught, and it was a lot of fun, but it's washed out colors, short fins and small head are the unmistakable signs of a hatchery raised fish. Somehow that takes some of the feeling of accomplishment out of it.

This is a shot from the bend pool on the 2nd creek where I spotted an honest 25" brown last summer. I never did catch that fish (not from a lack of effort) so I hope he shows up this year. I still won't catch him but it'll be fun trying.

A nice rainbow that came from just upstream of that picture. This one was caught in a spot that required 2 people to get him landed, so that's Marty's hand in the picture although I actually caught the fish. I wouldn't want to give Marty any undue credit - that Yankee d-bag certainly doesn't need it.

One of our favorite runs. Big fish were all over this spot last year.

Marty landing a nice brown that inhaled a foam beetle pattern drifted under some low hanging branches on the other side of the creek. There were some tense moments trying to get him through all of those weeds:

The end of the fight. A 17 - 18" brown in perfect shape.

So, I haven't seen the big boys out in numbers yet but there are a few making early appearances. I can't wait...

A Visit to the Volunteer State

2010-06-14T18:49:00.000-04:00

My good buddy Cronin had the rare chance last week to sneak away for a few days of fishing and even though I had way too much going on at work to take any time off, it was not an opportunity that could be missed. We decided that a little East Tennessee tailwater action was in order and we loaded up his new pickemup truck with camping and fishing gear and headed Southwest on Thursday morning. Our plan was to pack in as much fishing on the South Holston River as we could muster between Thursday and Sunday and be back in time for work on Monday.

Based on a tip, we secured access to some private water and camped at Judd's place right on the river. Judd couldn't be a nicer guy and gave us the run of the place for 4 days. We also met some other new friends named Blake, who took us out on his fishin' boat, along with the dogs Andy and Tater, who were our constant camp companions. I knew I was in the right place on the first day when Judd lassoed a huge snappin' turtle which ended up as dinner for one of his buddies.

The weather was "unsettled" most of the time - with threatening skies and frequent showers and storms mixed with enough sunshine to give me a nice new sunburn that gives new meaning to the term redneck. We were either hot or wet most of the time but the fishing more than made up for any discomfort. The sulphur hatch (regular yellow ones) was in full swing and we caught fish on a variety of nymphs, dries and emergers. I wouldn't call the fishing easy but once you got dialed in to the stage of the emergence the fish were keyed into, you could nail 'em. We didn't catch any huge fish but plenty of fat, healthy browns and bows kept the action hot.

The first 2 days we fished the low water from morning through midday and then at 3:30, the water would rise from generation at the dam. The current is too strong to wade the river when TVA is generating so the only effective way to fish the river is from a boat. On the first day, Blake was nice enough to take us out and show us what the high water fishing is all about. For whatever reason the bugs really come off strong on high water and the fishing was as fun as it gets. Blake taught Cronin how to swing a soft hackle pattern and taught me some new tricks as well, even though I thought I already knew how to fish a fly on the swing.

On the second night we were confident enough to try it on our own and Judd let us use his aluminum john boat. Did I mention that Judd is a nice guy?

Marty joined us Saturday and Sunday for his first trip to the Holston. I think he finally got tired of listening to my stories about our past trips here and decided to experience it for himself. I knew Marty was a good fisherman and he caught fish like an old pro on this river as I watched him bomb out casts and catch fish one after the other. I'm going to chalk it up to all of the advice I gave him about fly patterns and tactics...

Cronin ended up leaving early on Sunday (something about a wife and kids) leaving Marty and me to wreak some more havoc. Fishing was good again in the morning with fish rising to midges.

And the afternoon sulphur hatch brought some pretty, wild bows out to play.

I finished off the trip in style on Sunday afternoon by falling in over my waders and drowning my camera in the process. Luckily, I was able to save all of the pictures from the memory card even though the camera itself is toast. We decided to call it a trip and head back to real world, where jobs, bills and everything else was waiting. 'Till next time my friend.

Parking Lot Surprise

2010-06-06T18:39:00.000-04:00

Marty was able to sneak away for a half day adventure today and we decided to revisit our mutual favorite mountain brookie stream in the SNP. In an effort to beat the heat, we met up at 6:30 and made our way to the Park. After the hike in we fished the lower stretch between the two big waterfalls and each caught a few decent fish. One funny incident happened as I was fishing a shallow spot between 2 pools. Just as I was picking up for a back cast something grabbed my strike indicator and went for a ride it never expected. This thing sailed through the air behind me and then forward again as it splashed into the pool in front of me. Pulling in the line to inspect, I found one very shaken up crawdad, still clinging tightly to my indicator with one pincher.

Since Marty had to leave around 1:00 we decided to get out and head up the mountain to the ultimate brookie hole. There wasn't much going on when we got there, so I decided to tie on a "secret fly" and do some prospecting. On the 2nd cast I hooked the biggest brookie of my life and managed to get him to the shallows at my feet where we both got a good look at his broad back before he bolted and pulled free from the hook. Needless to say, I was crestfallen about playing the fish like an idiot and losing my biggest brookie to date. We estimated that he would have gone a full 12 inches - a true monster of the mountains.

The pool went dead after that and it was time to leave anyway, so we made our way back down the mountain to the parking lot. The last time I was there I had noticed a good fish in the little pool next to the road into the upper lot, so we stopped by to take a look on our drive out. This time, there were 2 good fish in the pool and since my rod was still rigged up...

A solid 9" fish, with outstanding colors, from the parking lot pool. It almost makes me feel better about that bruiser from the honey hole - but not quite.

Cows in your back cast

2010-05-31T18:31:00.001-04:00

An upcoming move kept me housebound with chores for most of the holiday weekend but I managed to sneak out to my favorite little spring creek today to tangle with some brown trout. Terrestrial action should be heating up any time now and I was itchin' to see my favorite stretch to find out if anyone was lookin' up out there. The water was too stained to make fish spotting very easy and although there were plenty of ants out and about nothing was interested in my beetle and ant combo rig. I switched over to a streamer and moved a bunch of fish (a few GOOD ones) but couldn't get them to commit. They followed, flashed and short-struck every streamer in my box and I managed one fish in six solid hours of bank walking.

I hooked the fish from a high bank, and since I left my net at home, landing him was no easy feat. Wading in the stream is illegal and also impossible in most spots because of the soft mucky bottom. I must have looked pretty comical laying down in the grass with my head and arms out over the stream trying to reach the water without going in head first. I finally managed to grab hold of the fly and work it loose, but I was unable to get a pic of the fish. So you'll just have to take my word (and anglers never lie about fish size) that he was a nice 16 - 17 inch brown.

Later in the afternoon, I switched to a different stretch and had similar results. I saw a few fish and got them to move on the streamer, but no takers. I did get to hang out with the cows though - wonder why the water was dirty downstream?

Even though it was only a one fish day, the fish seemed active and hungry, so I'm optimistic about the summer fishing. Come on grasshoppers...

Beetlemania

2010-05-16T18:27:00.000-04:00

After a couple weeks off, I was charged up to get back out to the Park. Things have gotten a lot greener out there in my absence and the streams are starting to drop fast. One look at the water and I knew my tactics were going to need to be a little different today. This thought was brought home at the first couple pools I came to with the site of every fish in the vicinity fleeing in panic at my approach. It was time to be a little more stealthy (not that easy for someone of my particular build) and go to a longer, finer leader. After I fine-tuned my tactics things got a lot easier, but let's hope we get some more rain soon to keep things going out there.

The fish on this little crick were definitely keyed in on terrestrial insects. I started off with an ant pattern that I tied up recently and discovered that my blind ass still couldn't see the fly even with a little orange indicator tied on it (Back to the drawing board on that one). So, I switched to a foam beetle pattern (with a bigger orange indicator) and that did the trick. The fish were attacking the beetle with gusto, sometimes moving several feet out of their feeding lane to slash at the fly.

The best fish of the day. This brown put a nice bend in my old Granger. He came out of the head of the pool pictured above and the cast was made from the same spot I snapped that pic. That gives an idea of the long casts that were needed today to keep from spooking fish.

I love terrestrial season and today just wets the appetite for the madness that will ensue on the spring creeks when the Japanese beetles and hoppers show up.

I really like the texture of this picture:

Another beetle eater and a solid brook trout. This guy splashed me just as I was about to snap a pic and got water on my camera lens, hence the crappy picture.

For good measure, I'll throw in a shot of a nice little bucketmouth I caught on Saturday evening. It's nice to have friends that live on the water...

Fishin' for the Chad

2010-04-26T21:03:00.000-04:00

No, I haven't been fishing with a dude named Chad (I don't even know any Chads). This, as you probably guessed, is just another dumb joke between myself and the guy that discovered the Grey Sulphur Mayfly. Who cares if we're the only ones who find it funny?

Chad is our name for the Shad, both the Hickory and American variety. Every spring the Chad run up the James River all the way to Richmond to make little Chad babies and, in the process, make themselves available to the fly rod angler. Now that the run is over, I figured I would go ahead and post up some pics that I took over several days earlier this month. I was hoping to get some cool video of these acrobatic fish in action, but that never materialized.

To fish for the Chad, you've got to get comfortable with urban angling. What this fishery lacks in natural beauty, it makes up for in convenience. This spot is roughly 5 minutes from my house:

The fishing itself isn't too difficult as long as you can manage to get a cast out 30 feet or so - something that's easier said than done with a high bank directly behind you. I got a lot of practice on my roll casting. If the fish are there, pretty much any bright colored fly will do the trick:

Some nice Hickory Chads. I didn't catch any Americans, which are bigger and apparently on the decline in the James :

This was the first year I've gone after the Chad, for what reasons I don't know. I've been in Richmond for almost 6 years now so it's basically inexplicable that I've overlooked this cool event year after year. Now that I know where to go, what equipment to use and what flies to tie, you can bet I'll be back after them next year.

Mountain trout fishing at its finest

2010-04-19T19:51:00.000-04:00

As you can probably tell by now, I love Spring in the Shenandoah National Park. Last weekend, the weather was gorgeous and I took advantage of it by getting out on 2 of my favorite mountain creeks on Saturday and Sunday. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves on this one.

The water was at a perfect level for dry fly fishing:

The wildflowers in the Spring definitely add to the experience. I'll have to ask Mom what these are.

On Saturday, the brown trout came out to play.

On Sunday, the bugs were out in full force. You guessed it, a Grey Sulphur:

And some nice sized brookies were on the feed:

A shot from way on up the hill. Till' next time:

Somtimes it's not about the fish

2010-04-07T21:19:00.001-04:00

My apologies to Lance Armstrong for the obvious rip-off of the title to this story, but it just seems an appropriate way to describe last Sunday. Sometimes you know a particular fishing trip is going to rise to the surface among the jumble of all of your other trips and memories, even if the fishing itself is less than spectacular...sometimes it's not about the fish.

My Dad and I have been talking about going fly fishing together for a long time and for whatever reason, we've never made it happen. On Sunday, we finally put an end to the talk and just went and did it. It turned out to be a day I'll always remember, and nope, it wasn't about the fish.

I wanted to show him a particular stream that's pretty special to me, both because the fishing is usually outstanding and because, as eye candy goes, it can't be beat. On this day, the fishing turned out to be only so-so, but that hardly mattered at all. We hiked and climbed and fished our way up the creek, working the best holes with fly patterns that never disappoint and couldn't seem to buy a strike. Even so, I was having a ball...sometimes it's not about the fish.

We eventually arrived at what has to be the prettiest spot in the entire state of Virginia, and decided to take a break for lunch. As I sat on a log next to my Dad, my feet in the creek, stuffing my face with roast beef and taking in the beauty before me, I realized there was no better fishing companion with which to share a scene and a day like this. Never mind that so far we'd only managed to take a few small fish...sometimes it's not about the fish.

After lunch was done, I tied on a new fly, waded into the hole we'd been watching and began to cast. The current in the middle was too heavy for dry fly work, so I rolled a cast into the quiet back corner, hoping a fish would be there taking a break from the main flow. With tense anticipation, I watched the fly bob along in the current, and as it neared the end of its drift, a trout slowly rose and sipped it in. He battled well, employing that trademark bulldog style fight, but had nowhere to go and I quickly gained the upper hand. I lead the fish into calm water where Dad and I admired him for a few seconds before sending him home.

So, even though sometimes it's not about the fish, one good fish never hurts. And on this day, one good fish was just icing on the cake.

Never trust a fisherman...

2010-04-05T21:24:00.001-04:00

I try to learn something on every fishing trip. Usually this involves some little casting or mending technique or how to position myself in order to make an effective presentation to the fish. Sometimes it's about where the fish are likely to be holding in the current or how to approach a certain pool without scaring the spots off of every trout in the vicinity. Sometimes it's about the bugs. What is hatching at this time of the year and how do the fish react? What fly pattern will best match the bugs the fish are currently feasting on? Sometimes I learn something, usually through trial and error, and sometimes I happen on things by blind, dumb luck.

This Saturday, I learned a very important lesson. Never trust the advice of another fisherman. If you hear that the fishing is sub-par on a certain creek that's been good to you in the past, and it's no longer worth messing with, don't believe it until you've gone to have a look for yourself! So it was that Marty and I paid a visit to an old friend that neither of us had been on for the last few years due to rumors of the generally crappy fishing. We weren't really expecting the best day of fishing we had experienced in a good while, but that's exactly what we got.

First, we got geared up with all the necessities for a day in the woods: electrolytes, peanut butter, caramel, almonds and white fudge. Oh yeah, we took fishing rods too.

We hiked in and found the stream still running pretty full but looking good.

The first pool of the day produced several fish. This seemed a little strange for a creek that's not supposed to hold very many trout, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

At this point, I was hoping it didn't turn out to be a one of those all too frequent days where you start off well and then things kinda peter out. I needn't have worried as fish continued to attack any fly we managed to get near them, often giving us several chances. At one point, I hooked and lost a fish only to have him eat the fly again on the very next cast. You gotta love brook trout; aggressive, dumb, and real pretty. In this way, they kinda remind me of a former girlfriend...

We even managed to hook a couple brown trout, the supposed problem for this little creek. This larger, more aggressive, intrusive species tends to out-compete the native brook trout and take over. The Park Service regularly removes and relocates the browns to help alleviate the problem and the official fishing regulations say that any brown trout caught inside the Park boundary must be destroyed.

Since I also hooked 3 or 4 brook trout in the same pool this feller came from, I figured he couldn't have been doing too much harm and I decided to break the law and send him on his way unharmed. What a rebel...

We ended up fishing until early evening, getting pretty far up the hill and ended the day with 2 browns and about 97,000 brookies. I guess you could say the stream is doing pretty well after all.

You take the good with the bad

2010-03-25T18:07:00.001-04:00

Marty finally broke free from his leash this past Sunday and was able to make it out for a day of chuckin' flies to the brookies of SNP. We exchanged a few text messages on Saturday night, trying to decide on the best stream to concentrate our efforts. Not being able to come to a decision, we decided that we'd ponder it on the drive out. So we met up around 11:00am determined to sore-lip some brook trout but having no clear destination in mind. After wavering between a few different creeks, we finally decided on a Southern district West sloper that neither of us had ever been on before. Marty had received some intel from a seemingly reliable source about big fish in this particular drainage and we were both eager to see what it was all about. We arrived at the lower boundary around 1:00 and started in with high hopes. The lower part of this stream turned out to be plenty wide but mostly shallow with long stretches of ankle deep, unproductive water.

Since neither of us had any experience on this crick and we didn't want to miss anything, we decided to jump right in near the bottom. Deep holes that seemed capable of supporting big fish were few and far between. With all of the rain and snow melt from the previous week and with our favorite East slopers still running high and strong, we were surprised at the paltry volume of water in this one. We wondered what this place must look like in the summer if it looked like this now...showing its bones:

We did manage to find some rising fish and tossing dry flies was a welcome change from all the lead slingin' we've been doing over the last few months. We found no evidence of any big boys but the little ones did seem to be fat and healthy and they attacked a parachute adams with gusto.

We continued upstream until the creek broke into 3 different stems and things got pretty skinny. Tiring of catching 4" fish, we finally came to the decision that this creek just wasn't our particular cup of tea. The intel that we had received seemed curious, but we chalked it up to different strokes for different folks and figured that we might have just enough time to hot foot it back to the truck and make our way back up to Skyline Drive to check out a favorite East sloper.

Fast forward about an hour and we arrived at the new locale at the upper parking lot with enough light in the sky to make the 1/2 mile hike downhill to cover the best spots. The hike back out would have to be done in the dark (something we are all too familiar with). When we got down there, the water volume was a little more to our liking.

And Marty pulled this dude out from the base of the waterfall. A fine specimen:

We fished out the light and each caught a few more fish, although mine turned out to be pretty dinky, leaving me wondering why I switched streams, drove an hour, and hiked down a mountain to catch the same small fish. Sometimes you gotta take the good with the bad I guess. All in all, it was a good day with good company even if the fishing turned out to be pretty sub-par. I got to see some new water and check another stream off the list, and that ain't all bad. It definitely beats workin' any day.

Spring in the Park

2010-03-22T20:41:00.000-04:00

I sometimes find myself trying to come up with a reason to fish somewhere other than the Park stream I wrote about a couple weeks ago in my Wiley Coyote story. I've been trying to explore as much of the Park as I can, but there's just something about that little gem that keeps drawing me back in. Exploration of a new stream is best done with a partner in crime, and since I was fishing alone this Saturday, I decided Wiley Coyote Creek was my best bet. I feel like I'm getting to know it pretty well and am not likely to end up lost or dead in the back country...and it doesn't hurt that my biggest brook trout to date came from this stream last May. On this trip, the creek was running full but clear, and the extra volume made the waterfalls and cascades even more scenic than usual.

Not much was going on in the bug department, and I found no rising fish, so I was forced to dredge the bottom with heavy flies and split shot. The fish proved to be hungry and aggressive and I quickly lost count of the number of little guys brought to hand. Sadly, none of the big boys that call this place home came out to play, but fish in this size range came out of virtually every pool.

I thought this was an especially pretty little pool:

And this little feller was tucked up tight against the far wall:

I finished the day off with some exploration of a stretch that's difficult to reach. The trail swings away at this spot and doesn't rejoin the stream for about 1/4 mile. From the first time I saw this spot, I wondered what kind of treasure awaits above but for some reason have never made the effort to go and have a look.

Deciding it was high time to find out, I managed to sneak up along the left side of the cascade to take a peak. The high water made it too dangerous to go any further alone, but I think I figured out a route that will allow access after the water drops a little. What I found was a couple sweet looking plunge pools that will definitely require some attention in the future. So I'll be back again soon to check it out, and even if I can't make it all the way up there, it should be a fun ride back down.

The Fly Angler's Thirty Foot Putt

2010-03-07T23:24:00.000-05:00

After my trek up and down the mountain on Saturday, I needed a leisurely day to recover. Since the weather was too darn nice to not go fishing, I decided to run out to the delayed harvest stream in Waynesboro. No hiking, bushwhacking or boulders to climb over...the legs would get a break...perfect. This stream has never been all that kind to me and I had pretty much written it off last year after several fishless trips in a row. Part of the problem here is that the stream runs right through the city of Waynesboro and is heavily poached, despite the fact that it's a catch and release stream for most of the year. At least that's what I like to tell myself after not catching any fish. Add in the factory that runs along its banks, the shopping carts and lawn chairs that litter the stream bed and it's just not the kind of experience an outdoorsman is usually looking for. The ducks are a nice touch though.

Even though I don't fish here often, sometimes it's the only game in town. Earlier this winter, when the mountains were choked with snow and the spring creeks were inaccessible, this place allowed me to at least get on the water. On one such trip, I hooked and, promptly broke off, a huge rainbow trout, and that one fish renewed my interest in the trashy treasure. A fisherman will put up with a lot for the chance to land a hawg. For you golfers out there, it's kind of like crushing the perfect 280 yard drive while shooting 102. Sure, your game sucks, but that one shot will keep you coming back for more.

If that rainbow I lost was like a 280 yard drive, then the brown I landed today was like sinking a 30 foot putt to save a 99. It wasn't huge, but definitely respectable. It was fat and healthy, and it fought with style...going airborne at least 4 times. Like the 30 foot putt, this one fish saved an otherwise lackluster day and as much as I don't want it to, will probably keep me coming back to Waynesboro for more. At least when it's the only game in town.

A Wiley Coyote Moment

2010-03-07T17:55:00.000-05:00

I was introduced to this little gem of a mountain stream last May by my good friend Marty and it has quickly become my favorite SNP fishing destination. It's the major tributary of a much more popular stream and although it sees its fair share of hikers, I have never encountered another angler while fishing here. If you look at this little creek on a map, you'll notice right away that it doesn't zig-zag or meander its way down the mountain. Instead, it rockets straight downhill in a series of cascades, waterfalls and plunge pools that make for ideal brook trout habitat and also one heck of a workout for the fisherman.

The forecast for the weekend was sunny skies with temps in the 50s, and I was planning on taking full advantage of the sweet weather. So on Saturday morning, I loaded up the truck with gear and pointed myself towards my new favorite SNP spot. Arriving at the parking lot on the lower Park bounday at 9:00am, I strung up my little 7' Granger Victory and hit the trail for the 1/2 mile hike to where the fishin' starts.

The day turned out to be pretty uneventful (especially in the fish catching department) with one exception. I had been fishing for maybe 5 minutes when, out of nowhere, a softball sized rock exploded into the middle of the pool I had been standing in, shattering the silence and sending me diving for cover. After I checked my waders for skid marks and looked around to make sure nobody was playing a dirty joke on me, I glanced up and saw this whitetail deer doing its best impression of a mountain goat.

The deer was casually eating grass on the cliff face about 30' above me and seemed oblivious to the fact that it had just scared the crap out me, almost literally, by kicking a rock loose and sending it plummeting towards me below. I just stood there and watched for about 10 minutes, amazed at how this deer had managed to get itself into this position. Then I reflected on what would have happened had the rock landed a few feet to the left. Images of the old Road Runner cartoon flashed through my head. You know...the one where Wiley Coyote gets whacked in the noggin' with a rock:

All that was left to complete the scene was for this deer to go "meep meep" and take off at 100 miles per hour (It's amazing the places your mind will wander to when you're fishing alone in the backcountry).

I eventually regained my wits, continued on and was rewarded at the next pool with this little beauty. I think it was a John Gierach quote where he said that brook trout are one of those rare things you sometimes see in nature that are just a lot prettier than they actually need to be. I couldn't agree more.

So I fished out the day and even though I managed only a few more brookies, I left with a sense of satisfaction. Solitude, beautiful scenery and wild trout are 3 reasons why I'll be back to my new favorite Park stream...even if the deer are trying to kill me.

Lookin' Back...

2010-02-28T02:46:00.000-05:00

The wintry weather we've been experiencing around these parts lately hasn't allowed for much fishin' time, and since it's been difficult to get out and create new memories, I've been reflecting on some of the old ones. In particular, the Summer of 2009 was especially sweet.

There's a little spring creek out in the Shenandoah Valley that haunts my dreams. It's widely known for being...well, hateful. The place gets heavily pressured and the trout are skittish, nervous and educated. Throw in conditions such as high banks, tall grasses, extensive weed beds, ticks, cows in your back cast, muskrats that have a knack for scaring the jeebus out of you and...you get the idea. I fished there a half dozen times before I came close to fooling a fish. Why then would anyone subject themselves to such torture? Because the fish are HUGE. Browns over 20 inches aren't uncommon and some go much bigger.

There's one lesson a fisherman learns early on, and that is persistence pays off. Last year, this little babbling limestone brook took on a whole new character...the stars aligned, the heavens opened up and the fishin' turned ON like donkey kong. The big boys were out and about all summer gorging themselves on terrestrial insects and I was out there almost every weekend chasing them around. I can't think of many things in life more fun than site fishing a 25" brown with a big foam grasshopper pattern. It's more fun than a barrel full of monkeys...seriously.

So for your viewing pleasure I present a slide show full of gratuitous fish pics from the infamous spring creek during the summer of 2009. If you're a fan of Cajun music, turn your speakers up and enjoy. A lot of the better fish were seduced by my buddy Marty, who can be a huge jerk when it comes to catching big fish. Here's hoping we're in store for more of the same in 2010:

Grey Sulphur??

2010-02-25T21:39:00.000-05:00

What's up with the name of this blog? Well, simply put, the Grey Sulphur is my favorite bug, as bugs go. It's a rare species of mayfly that is virtually unknown to even the most knowledgeable fly fishermen. This little bug was first discovered and named several years ago by one of my good friends and angling buddies. If you know your bugs, you may notice that the Grey Sulphur bears a striking resemblance to the Blue Wing Olive Mayfly (only bigger) and they are, in fact, believed to be closely related. As far as I know, the Grey Sulphur exists solely in a single run on a single river: the South Holston Tailwater in Eastern, TN. The emergence can be fleeting, but when these elusive bugs are on the water, even those wily South Holston browns throw caution to the wind and become easy pickins for the skillful fly angler. The Grey Sulphur is best imitated with a size 8, heavily hackled BWO burned wing dun. I know it sounds silly, but I swear it works. Honest...I've seen it.

Here's a quick shot of the guy that made this important discovery, a true entomologist and master angler:

Edit: I should probably add that "Grey Sulphur" is a very inside joke between myself and the goofy lookin' gentleman pictured above. Real sulphur mayflies are a yellow/orange hue and are definitely not grey, although their wings do have a greyish tint. The incident that led to the moniker of this blog involved the answer to an innocent question: "Hey what did you catch that fish on?" Answer: "Grey Sulphur". This turned out to be one more thing that goes down in the fishing lore between friends, and it gets trotted out every time we take to the stream together. It makes us laugh like idiots but probably makes absolutely no sense to anyone else.

Back in Action!

2010-02-25T19:06:00.000-05:00

The Winter has been unusually harsh this year in the Commonwealth and as a result I haven't done as much fishing as I would have liked. So, it was with great joy that I looked at the weather forecast this past weekend and saw an opportunity to get back in action. My buddy Marty was of the same mindset and we decided on one of our favorite haunts for wild trout: Shenandoah National Park. The Park boasts roughly 90 small streams and almost all of them hold native eastern brook trout. For this trip we decided on a small stream in the eastern central district. In addition to the aforementioned brook trout, this little gem boasts a nice population of wild brown trout. The lack of natural barriers to upstream movement on this particular stream has allowed the browns to become well established and I, for one, like having them there.

We arrived stream side at about 10:00, strung up our rods and started in on a short hike. After trudging through the snow for about a half mile, we arrived at the first pool and got down to business. It didn't take long for the action to begin and on my third cast, I hooked up with a nice little wild brown.

It looked like this was going to be a banner day, but things slowed down a little bit after the initial action. With air temps still in the low 40s and water temps not yet breaking the 40 degree mark, I guess it wasn't entirely unexpected. We continued to make our way upstream, leapfrogging each other and fishing all of the likely looking holes.

It took a few hours for things to get good and warmed up, but eventually the fish started to cooperate and we each managed to hook a few. The browns made a stronger showing but a few brook trout decided to join the party as well.

One of the unexpected things about the day was the emergence of a few Quill Gordon mayflies. This bug is always the first major hatch of the year, often coming off when the streams are still pretty chilly and the water is high. Even so, we figured these guys were at least a month early. We decided to look on the bright side and not take this as some cosmic sign of global warming but rather as a signal that Spring is just around the corner. Even though the fish ignored the bugs on this day, it was still a site for sore eyes.

So we fished on until we were a couple miles up the hill and the light was starting to fade. Deciding that it was time to get outa Dodge, we hit the trail and made our way back down the mountain. A wild trout stream, good company and willing fish; I can't think of a better way to spend a February day.

The Introduction

2010-02-24T19:09:00.000-05:00

I guess I'll kick off this blog by telling you a little about myself. I'm a single dude in my late 30s who is hopelessly addicted to fly fishing for trout, smallmouth bass and just about anything else that swims. I spend roughly 110% of my free time either thinking about fishing or actually doing it. And because I'm a single dude in my late 30s, with no real responsibilities (like a wife and kids) I have plenty of time to pursue my addiction. I masquerade as an accountant all week but can be found wading a trout stream or floating a smallmouth river virtually every weekend, holiday and vacation day I get. Maybe someday I'll figure out a way to fish for a living...

I'm a Northern Virginia transplant who now calls Richmond home, which provides me with ample opportunity to pursue what I love. The James River, a wonderful smallmouth bass fishery, is 5 minutes away and the trout streams are a short jaunt west in the Blue Ridge Mountains and Shenandoah Valley. I share a craptacular house in the Churchill neighborhood of Richmond with a 6 year old pooch named Rocky, who doesn't seem to give a rat's butt how much time I devote to fishing. He spends most of his free time enjoying his own favorite pastime which involves stretching out on the furniture and then licking and scratching himself for hours. It's a tough life.

I hope to chronicle my adventures in fly fishing on this blog and plan to post plenty of trip reports, cool pictures and maybe even some video. I'm doing this mainly for my own amusement, but if it turns out some people like to read about what I'm up to that would be cool too.

More to come soon...