Sunfish are superior fish.
Sunfish fight better than any other fish, inch-for-inch.
Sunfish often introduce us to fishing.
Sunfish take poppers, ants, and dry flies.
Sunfish can be found everywhere.
Sunfish are forgiving.
Sunfish save us from skunks.
Three years ago, I wrote this quick synopsis of the podcast 2 Guys and A River:
“Steve Mathewson and Dave Goetz are the kind of guys that you want to fish with. There is a good mix of humor, practical advice, and anecdotal content in a podcast that is the prefect length for a short commute. I’d also highly recommend this to beginners, as they communicate very clearly some common sense facets of fly fishing and angling culture.”
This past month, Steve and Dave wrapped up their podcast. Four years of weekly episodes is no small feat. There is planning, recording, editing, and the corresponding blog entries. Add in the requisite podcast-day lunches, and 2 Guys and A River was a labor of love for two very busy men.
The success of their podcast wasn’t simply tied to their consistency. The casual banter, clear format, and every-fly-fisher-man perspective was accessible. Steve and Dave never claimed to be angling experts. Although they never explicitly claimed it, they are certainly experts in enjoying fly fishing. Consequently, the podcast was never about perfecting the subtitles of any one facet of fly fishing. It was about enjoying your time on the water. Sometimes that comes after a few dozen trout. Sometimes it is the culmination of many other things: a favorite fly rod, a laugh with a friend, a hearty meal. These are important things that run alongside the narrow, focused act of actually fly fishing.
I don’t want you to feel like you’re being attacked.
I am sure that you are really, really into fly fishing. If you were to tell me everything you know, share your angling expense report, and rattle off where you’ve been I bet I’d be impressed. Seriously. No sarcasm. There is a very good chance that you’re an angling enthusiast or a fly fishing aficionado or a hardcore fisher-person.
You’re just not a trout bum.
Listen to the episode below, or on your favorite podcast app.
Everyone catches small fish. For some, they are the pesky by-catch that must be dealt with and endured. For others, they are a safe, dependable source of fishing, fun, and food. Most anglers start by catching small fish, and all big fish start off being small fish.
Under normal circumstances, an eight-inch fish isn’t anything worth writing home about. Sure, it is a fish. A small fish is better than no fish. A small fish is still technically a success. Moreover, maturity and perspective view such a fish as worthy of appreciation. But on a big, powerful river an eight-inch fish doesn’t represent the real target of an angler.
On a small mountain stream? That eight-inch fish could very well be a trophy. If most trout are six inches, the fish measuring in at eight inches is an unexpected surprise. It is the outlier; the literal big fish in the small pond. It got that way because of wit, tenacity, and (most importantly) luck. On a small, gentle creek an eight-inch fish represents the real target of an angler.
If your fly fishing world extends anywhere off the water, you’re constantly exposed to more fly rods. You can’t shake a 5-weight without hitting an advertisement, a review, or someone waxing lustfully over a rod. While some promotion is necessary (you can’t sell fly rods unless you sell them), much of it is superfluous at best and materialistic at worst. The technological jargon and nostalgic pandering turns many people off to the contemporary fly fishing industry as a whole. With fly rods being the central piece of the whole scene, the hyperbole and high cost associated with them draws the ire of plenty of anglers.
But the reality is that you might need a new fly rod.
Digging into your wallet and giving in to Big Fly Fishing might be a tough pill to swallow. You have morals, you have standards, you have a budget. Still, the fish demand a few hundred dollars’ sacrifice. And they’re the boss.
I’ve put together a (nice round) 11-point list of reasons why you should maybe definitely, absolutely probably replace your fly rod right away. Or as soon as a good deal comes along.
What harm is a little rain?
For some reason, the myth exists that fishing isn’t any good in the rain. Maybe we should keep that fallacy going, because getting out on the river in the rain is a great way to get to spots and fish that would otherwise be hard to approach. Whether it is because the rain is keeping away crowds or creating angling opportunities, a few drops might be the catalyst to getting you on the water.
I share a few tips, some observations, and my unscientific opinion on why fly fishing in the rain isn’t scary at all.
Listen to the episode below, or on your favorite podcast app.
I’m man enough to admit that I watch The Waltons, from time to time. The wholesome life of the Depression-era mountain family is the TV version of a palate cleanser. People on The Waltons aren’t perfect, but love and community and family almost always win the day.
That, and they go fishing a lot.
The show is set In Virginia, on a fictitious mountain in a fictitious county. They’re close to Charlottesville, but otherwise the scenes are made up. An exception is the local river; the Rockfish River.
John-Boy Walton and his siblings would fish in the river for sport and for food. The Rockfish River flowed alongside mountain roads. Floods made it a force to be reckoned with. Like real mountain communities, the River was a constant yet impersonal entity that gave and took away. But more often than not, it gave.
I’ve never lived in the Shenandoah region. But at various points over the years I have been located close enough to become familiar with this spectacular part of the country. And I’ve spent this past week at the foot of the mountains, just outside the park.
In and around Shenandoah National Park there are a wealth of options for the fly fisher. Brook trout and smallmouth bass steal the show; up in the mountain hollows and down in the river valleys, respectively. The fishing is accessible and approachable, but presents a myriad of challenges for beginners and experts alike. With the other historical, cultural, and outdoor activities available, and the proximity to major metropolitan areas, this part of Virginia is special.
Here are two articles about trout fishing on small mountain streams, and a podcast that explores the diverse angling opportunities in the Shenandoah.
Read each article by clicking on the titles or the pictures below:
Want to know how to make a better presentation with your fly? Cast better
Want to know how to catch more fish? Cast better.
Want to know how to have more fun fly fishing? Cast better.
Learning to be able to cast a fly rod better is part of growing as an angler. It might be about distance, accuracy, or efficiency. Regardless, a little bit of perspective, patience, and practice can go a long way to make your time on the water better.
I discuss a few ways to think about fly casting practice in this episode. But at the end of the day, I realize that catching fish and having fun is a lot more important than perfect – even good – form.
Listen to the episode below, or on your favorite podcast app.
For years I maintained that ice fishing was on the extreme end of a spectrum, the polar opposite of fly fishing. You fish up and down. You carry what you need on a sled. You don’t need to attempt stealth. You can eat a sandwich while fishing. Ice fishing is a lot of fun, and it is very different than fly fishing.
But it is trolling that is the opposite of fly fishing.
I was up at five and speeding across the lake at 5:30. Even though it was still the hottest part of summer, the cool mornings had begun to mark a change in the median temperature. The water was covered with fog and I was joyfully sipping from my coffee during the smooth patches of the ride.
We arrived in the center of the lake. The large body of water is made up of a number of tentacle-like segments that meet in a central hub. This is the deepest part of the lake, and the mouths of the many arms create variances in the depth. These channels and dropoffs are like shorelines for large segments of cooler water. The transition points also make perfect ambush spots for big, predatory fish like lake trout and landlocked salmon.
The salmon were our quarry.
