Local Knowledge

by | Mar 22, 2020 | 7 comments

Turn into the fly shop and strike up a conversation with the dude behind the counter, and he might tell you the Olives are hatching around noon on most days. That’s nice. And if he really has his ear to the ground or his feet in the water, he’ll know that those Olives have been out in large numbers on the sunny days but not so much on the cloudy, rain-spitting afternoons that Olive chasers expect. Why? Well, none of us really knows that.

And as the young man takes your money for the half-dozen #18 Klinkhammers matched with the six Olive Puffys you’re buying, he might remind you about the silica dust for the CDC. That’s not local knowledge. It’s just experience and salesmanship. But he might also know what parts of the river keep the sun out of the trout’s eyes at midday, right during the Olive event. That is good local knowledge. And if you’re nice, he’ll grant you that little nugget too.

This internet generation of anglers has more access to information than ever before. These days, you can learn a lot about local conditions through kilobytes and browsers. Compared with just a few years ago, it’s easy to know when trout are finally taking Sulfurs on the West Branch of the Delaware or if the water has cleared after the latest round of thunderstorms. But local conditions are different from local knowledge. Here’s what I mean . . .


A lot of it comes down to knowing the water. The way I read the rivers around here is far different from the way you probably read them if you’re from out of town. I know the habits of our trout without thinking much about it. And every season, it’s a different story.

Fish sit on the green lines, right where the vegetation meets the brown sand, all summer long. And they do it in ankle-deep water that you probably pass up and walk right though. Until one day, with the sun high and shining from behind, you peer upstream to see trout streaking off, one after another as you wade forward. And then finally, you believe what is possible.

I can always tell when anglers are from out of town, even as they’re a half mile downstream from their out-of-state license plates. Our rivers are full of mystery. They wind and bend, dip and dive through pocket water and flats, over runs and riffles. And all that structure tends to call to experienced anglers in the same way.

The level just above the ancient tree and the power line tantalizes. It tricks every first-timer into targeting the juicy section on river right. Truth is, more and bigger fish are stacked up on river left, even though the structure — the layout — looks only half as appealing. Why? Because there are springs that seep from that bank, all year long. For a hundred yards, pure limestone water attracts trout in the winter to stay warm, in the summer to stay cool and in spawning season for the perfect gravel. That’s local knowledge.


I met my friend, Trevor, today, and we both squeezed in a few hours of fishing between family duties. The water was high enough that most anglers stayed home. But I know this river.

Dirty water is hard to read, and if your first time on a new stretch of river is under muddy conditions, where the creek bed is unseen, you’re in for a lot of guessing and tough fishing.

We walked downstream on an elevated path above the flow, and I pointed out the main features to Trevor, highlighting the new woodfalls on the near bank. I promised him that none of the water was over his knees, the rocks were mostly uniform, and there were no major surprises to cause difficult wading.

“Trust the pockets,” I told him. “There are fish everywhere.”

Photo by Josh Darling

Those trout ate our flies because we had the confidence to fish well. And the fish were right where they were supposed to be.

That’s local knowledge.


As much as I love fishing alone, I enjoy fishing with good friends just as much. I usually turn off my guide instincts as we work the stream together, but I occasionally recommend a good piece of water to my friends or warn against another.

Jeff and I were camping and fishing with our buddy, Sam — just three guys on a Fall fishing bender. Long before I had kids and a mortgage, it was one of those open-ended, youthful fishing trips that only part-time employment and college enrollment seems to offer. Sam was inexperienced. Add to that, he’d never been to my favorite wild river.

We waded upstream and fished in the steep canyon of broken limestone chunks that averaged the size of our beer cooler. Sam cut up to the right where a nice, narrow channel merged with the main seam. He fished it for a while with no luck. Then he climbed up on the far bank and threw a few casts upstream. Just before he walked into the shade of the towering pines, I yelled after him.

“Sammy!” I motioned. “You’ll get trapped up there, man. The river runs against the sidewall a couple hundred yards up.” I yelled loud, forcing my voice to carry over the rolling water.

Sam waved me off, but I continued.

“It gets real deep and there’s nowhere to wade,” I warned, shaking my head. “The path ends too, because of the steep bank.” I trailed off when I saw that Sammy had his mind set upon his own course. He brushed me off again, smiled and tipped his cap before walking upstream.

Photo by Josh Darling

But an hour later, Sam emerged from the deep shadows again. He walked all the way below where I’d given him the advice of experience, and he crossed the wide river. I could see he was soaked. Even his hat dripped with cold water. And I chuckled when he walked past me, cursing those “damn broken pines” that had tripped him up.

“It’s impassable, Sammy,” I laughed. “Told ya!”

Sam flashed both his middle fingers my way and kept walking.

That’s local knowledge.

Fish hard, friends.


Enjoy the day.
Domenick Swentosky


Share This Article . . .

Since 2014 and 600 articles deep
Troutbitten is a free resource for all anglers
Your support is greatly appreciated

– Explore These Post Tags –

Domenick Swentosky

Central Pennsylvania

Hi. I’m a father of two young boys, a husband, author, fly fishing guide and a musician. I fish for wild brown trout in the cool limestone waters of Central Pennsylvania year round. This is my home, and I love it. Friends. Family. And the river.

More from this Category

Eggs and Olives

Eggs and Olives

The early spring season is very much defined by the resurgence of the egg pattern. And by the time the suckers are done doing their thing, our hatch season is in full swing. Then, just like that, the egg bite turns off. Suddenly the trout favor mayfly and caddis imitations over the full-color egg options.

But as reliable as the egg bite can be in early spring, you don’t want to sleep on the Olives . . .

What Are You Working On?

What Are You Working On?

It’s a question I ask of my friends and those whom I’ve just met. What are you working on? Because, whether we realize it or not, we’re all working on something.

“What do you do for a living?” is a common small-talk question. But I don’t ask that one much. I save it for later. What do you love? What are you passionate about? And what are you working on? Those are the more interesting queries that get to the core of each person.

So I’ve asked these questions for years. And it surprises me how often the answer is a blank stare. Some people simply don’t know what they love — yet. And that’s alright. Maybe they’re still searching for some passion in life. But inevitably, it’s those who light up with enthusiasm that I connect with. Tell me what you’re into. The topic hardly matters. I can listen for hours to someone who knows their craft from every angle, who understands what they love, why they care about it and what they plan to learn next.



I was driving a small Nissan pickup, halfway down a steep and rocky logging road, somewhere in the Pennsylvania backcountry. The truck crept down a small boulder field of mixed slate and sandstone. And the frame held solid while the suspension complained against larger obstacles. . . . That perfect, hour-long slow climb down a tram road and into the Fields Run valley was the beginning of a wonderful, memorable adventure . . .

What Lies Beneath

What Lies Beneath

There’s a world unseen below the surface. The riverbed weaves a course and directs the currents, giving shape to its valley. Water swirls behind rocks. It moves north and south against submerged logs. The stream blends and separates, merges and divides again as vertical columns rise and fall — and all of this in three dimensions. . . . Eventually, knowing and admiring what lies beneath is as easy as seeing what flows above.

How to stay in the fly fishing game for a lifetime

How to stay in the fly fishing game for a lifetime

I know what the game of chasing trout has given me. For over forty years, I’ve had a wonderful purpose, a focus, endless challenges, and a reason to set my feet on wooded, watery paths often enough to call these places home . . .

Fishing is as big as you want it to be. From the beginning, I’ve been in it for the long game. And in the end I plan to wade upstream, toward the light at the end of the tunnel.

What do you think?

Be part of the Troutbitten community of ideas.
Be helpful. And be nice.


  1. Great article! Yes for sure local knowledge is the best source of information out there! Nothing can take the place of time spent on your favorite stream. I closely guard those special places I am still trying to unlock. I can see why locals are tight lipped about the information sharing on those streams, a little is always beneficial!

  2. Many years ago when I was heavenly into bass fishing, it was all about finding successful, fish catching patterns. I read/studied the original In-Fisherman magazines and books; Al and Ron Lindner were the gurus of multi-species pattern fishing, including bass, pike, crappie, and walleye. Understanding the seasonal patterns gamefish was a very original and scientific approach perfected by the Lindners and many of the early bass pros like Rolland Martin and Bill Dance.

    The switch to fly fishing for trout on the Upper Delaware system involved a whole new knowledge and skill set, to say the least. But, as I eventually learned, applying the concept of pattern fishing to the pursuit of wild brown and rainbow trout has been very beneficial. And it is these “trout patterns” that I think, form the essence of what you refer to as local knowledge. So, if your a bit new to the game, focus on those ever changing patterns and you will definitely up your game. A good local guide is worth every penny because they are completely in tune with the patterns that lead to success.

  3. I understand why Sammy went ahead. Sometimes you just have to get stuck in person. Then you get to tell the next guy, and watch as he ignores you too.

  4. I have really enjoyed your website! Relatively new to the euro nymphing style fishing and often find myself lost in this maze of wonders your sharing with us all! Recently lost my mother and I’m finding this to be one of my favorite escapes. So…. thank you!!! You’ve helped me fish…. and you’ve helped me cope

    • Hi Seth,

      Very sorry for your loss. But I’m so glad that some thins that I write can help you out. Keep in touch.



Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

Recent Articles

Recent Posts

Domenick Swentosky

Central Pennsylvania

Hi. I’m a father of two young boys, a husband, author, fly fishing guide and a musician. I fish for wild brown trout in the cool limestone waters of Central Pennsylvania year round. This is my home, and I love it. Friends. Family. And the river.

Pin It on Pinterest