This morning should have been like any other. Kill the alarm and hate life for the first five minutes as my body begrudgingly catches up to the will of ambition. Coffee helps. So does the routine, because the inevitability of repetition and pattern seems certain. It...
We walk a narrow footpath that weaves and dips near the stream. We travel long miles on return to the truck, kicking down a dusty road after sunset. And we bushwhack through tightening brush, laced with vines that merge with flexible saplings, presenting an...
Rarely do trout fights result in epic battles. Instead, they are short, down and dirty struggles between fish and fishermen. We don’t chase trout for their fight. It’s their selectivity. But yes, the bigger fish might surprise us with their super strength. Combine...
“What fly are you starting with?” “I don’t know yet.” “How much weight are you using?” “Not sure.” “How long of a tippet are you tying on?” “I haven’t decided.” At the start of the trip, after lacing my boots and grabbing the fly rod, I’m gone. I don’t rig up at the...
You’ve probably heard this a lot: “These trout have been caught on that fly before, so they won’t take it.”
Or this: “Once trout are caught on a fly a few times, they learn that it’s a fake.
But trout don’t have to be caught on a fly to learn that it isn’t real. In fact, just seeing one bad drift after another is enough to put trout off of a particular pattern . . .
When everything you expect to work produces nothing, don’t blame the fish. Think more. Try harder.
When your good drifts still leave the net empty, then don’t settle for good. Make things perfect. Never blame the fish . . .
Side pressure pulls the trout from its lane. While the fish faces the current and tries to hold a seam, side pressure moves that trout from its comfort zone and forces it to work against the force of our bent fly rod — all while keeping the trout low. And while we never want to play a trout to exhaustion, the art of a good trout fight is in taking them to the point where we have more control over their body than they do.
For every big name piece of water that’s overcrowded, there are hundreds of miles of trout water that are rarely seen by any angler. If ten percent of the water sees ninety percent of the fishermen, then be that small percentage angler who finds wide open places in a high percentage of water.
Some of it winds and bends in line with the tall grasses in the breeze. This is meandering meadow water that glistens and swoons against the low angles of a fading sun. Trout thrive here, protected in the deep cool water, among shade lines that are artfully formed by long weeds that wag and flutter in the current. You could swear the tips of those weeds are trout tails — until they’re not. Maybe some are.
The calm waters of a river are like a church sanctuary. They encourage a measure of reverent respect, even if you don’t much believe what’s in there . . .
I know this is a minority opinion. The average angler assumes that bait will fool more trout than an artificial. Just yesterday, I came across the frequently repeated assertion that bait outperforms flies. I saw it in print and heard it in dialogue on a podcast. It was stated as fact, as though no one could possibly argue otherwise. But it’s wrong. It’s a common wisdom that isn’t very wise. And I think those who believe that bait has the edge over flies have probably spent very little threading live bait on a hook and dunking it in a river . . .