I know what you’re thinking.
“The weather is just getting nice again – I’m going to be able to fish so much this fall!”
True. But if you live in most of the country, the harsh reality that winter weather is only a half dozen weeks away can’t be ignored. It’s okay. Don’t run from it. Embrace it.
Think about what you will be able to get done. Fly tying, cleaning your gear, and, of course, The Fly Fishing Show.
I couldn’t help myself.
It was a fish. It swam up from the clear depths to chase my fly. I saw the whole thing unfold before my eyes. I trout set the snot out of that striper.
And, of course, that means that the striped bass pictured above is not the fish that I just described. Because I missed that fish in an epic fashion.
I am not sure what you call the psychological/biological phenomenon of being able to recall physical sensations. But I can still feel myself tensing up as the fish charged my baitfish imitation. I can feel my hand tightening on the cork of the 9-weight. I can feel myself lowering the rod so that I can have the optimum thrust as I jerk the line taught with hurricane force.
I can feel the complete lack of resistance as I trout set the line, leader, and fly into oblivion.
Want to know a good problem to have?
Catching so many fish that you’re struggling to keep your fly afloat.
While that might sound a little bit like humble bragging, it is something that happens to all anglers from time to time. The reality is that it can be problematic. If you’re catching a lot of fish, but you’re spending an inordinate amount of time messing with a sinking fly, you’re missing out on even more fish.
Whether you are hitting an amazing hatch on a spring creek or running up a mountain blue line, you want your fly to be the best tool for all the trout feeding with reckless abandon. I’ve put together a list of three concepts, with seven “tips” total, to think about to keep your fly high, dry, and appetizing for the fish.
It starts with the right fly, prepared the best way, fished with a little forethought:
Brook Trout…
And people think that the leaves are pretty in autumn!
Maybe it is good that the fall colors of brookies are our little secret, otherwise every blue line and back trail would be littered with trout peepers. As it is, the deeper you get into the woods the more brilliant your surroundings and your fish become.
There are so many things to say about my favorite fish. But since it is Friday, and since I’ve said so much already, I figured I’d share a few brook trout focused pieces from the Casting Across archives. Click on the picture or the title to read something about these amazing little char.
I like trail running. I like fly fishing.
I have a limited amount of time to do anything like either of those things.
Not all pursuits are flexible enough to combine, but trail running and fly fishing can be seamlessly combined in such a way that you’re not really compromising on either.
Most recently I ran four miles into the New Hampshire woods. Not only did I get a great workout, but a few other interesting things happened. As I went further up the mountains the water temperatures dropped significantly. With each mile, I saw less and less people. At the end of the day I had been able to fly fish, see so much wilderness, and put in some serious trail miles. And I caught a lot of trout.
Check out three reasons why you should give running to the fish a shot, and some tips on preparing for such an outing, below:
Good old Labor Day. A day off to celebrate other days off.
I know that is a gross misrepresentation… kind of…
For me, there will be work today. I’ll be laboriously reading, writing, and – completely unrelated – assembling IKEA furniture. Don’t worry, I took yesterday afternoon off (to fish). And I’m taking tomorrow morning off (to fish).
Consequently, I’m taking it easy on the Casting Across front so I can get my labor on. That doesn’t mean I’m leaving you high and dry. I’ve got some good things for you, regardless of the intensity of your individual industry.
Here are three quick things:
5,000 feet in an hour by car, two miles uphill by foot, and a canyon full of cutthroats all to myself:
“I know protecting them is important,” I said, “but what is fishing for greenbacks like?”
“They’re beautiful, special fish that live in amazing places,” he said, smiling. “They aren’t the only cutthroats that need to be protected, but their story is special.”
I had a lot of questions for the late Dr. Robert Behnke in the short amount of time we spent together. Completely aware that most people don’t want to talk work while not working, I still peppered him with various inquiries about trout. He didn’t seem to mind. I assume that when you are the world’s leading expert on salmonids, your office hours don’t end once you leave the classroom.
Greenback cutthroat trout have been squarely in the center of American fly fishing culture for decades. The story of the greenbacks is too lengthy to go into detail here, and much has been written regarding these special fish. Their supposed extinction, “discovery,” rediscovery, and conservation have been at the forefront of trout-centric causes for my entire life.
Consequently, I’ve always wanted to catch one.
You’d think that it would be easy to write about fly fishing in a new place, for a new fish, for the first time. There is a lot to say about the particularities of the species – how it looks, how it acts, how it is the same or different than other fish like it. One strain of cutthroat trout is different than another, which are still dissimilar from rainbows… and quite different from brookies. And, of course, that’s just talking about trout (and char).
It should be simple to describe the endless contrasts that exist between fly fishing out west and on the east coast. It isn’t just Rocky Mountains vs. Appalachians. The rocks, the trees, and the bugs make for completely unique experiences even before you cast a fly.
There seems to be a progression:
I’m currently in the middle of a family vacation / cutthroat expedition.
(Note: the backslash above represents an immense chasm.)
But I have an amazing wife, and she’s humored me as I’ve driven, run, and climbed about the Rocky Mountains in search of native fish.
More content from the trip will be coming in the following weeks. For now, I wanted to share a few articles about cutthroats in general, greenbacks in particular, and population conservation.
Read what I’ve been reading below:
