I had a great conversation with Dave Stewart on his Wet Fly Swing podcast. We talked about streamers, nymphs, the Mono Rig and how Troutbitten has grown into a fly fishing company and become my full time career. You can find the pod on Spotify, iTunes or wherever you...
The fly lands, and marabou pulses. Four inches of a meticulously tied articulated streamer flutters as it drops through the water column, just a foot from the water’s edge. The target was well chosen, and the fly hit the mark. Now, a big wild trout, resting against a...
What happens to a fish when it dies? It usually sinks to the bottom. And I’ve seen enough trout carcasses or half-eaten and decomposing fish on the riverbed to believe this as a first-hand fact. But what happens to a fish as it’s dying? What of the small trout,...
I like nymphing because of the process. Because, by refining a full set of tactics with the small food forms that trout eat, an angler has excellent control over the outcome. In short, nymphing puts trout in the net. And on most days, the action is good enough to...
Wild and wise trout demand from the angler a natural presentation of the fly. Trout are a difficult fish to fool. So the consistent fisherman learns to successfully drift flies that look like something the trout is used to eating — something that appears natural.
However, the most natural drift of the fly happens over a short portion of the drift. And usually, the angler who casts more often is more successful . . .
The tuck cast is a fly fishing essential. It’s a fundamental component of good nymph fishing, and it’s useful on streamers and wets. Even dry flies get some necessary slack by completing the same motion of a tuck cast on a dry leader. It’s a vital fly fishing tool, not a specialized cast for rare moments. The tuck cast is an elemental part of the fly angler’s casting approach.
The tuck cast shines brightest given a tight line nymphing method. So let’s start there before branching out.
A good tuck cast forces the nymph into the water before the attached leader follows. Understand that first. This simple concept is the tuck cast. And from this idea, endless variations abound . . .
. . . Remember that Mark taught me to keep the streamer moving downstream at one pace, without pause. Now think about the way you fish a streamer. You strip it, right? Strip, strip, jerk, strip, strip, jig, strip.
And at the end of every strip, there’s a pause when you let go of the line and re-grasp it further ahead (preparing for the next strip). That pause, and the look that it gives the streamer, is completely different than what Mark showed me at fourteen years old.
Like anything else in fishing, you can get the tactic pretty close and have some success, or you can dig deep into the details, refine it and triple your production . . .
Tom and I talked about streamers, mostly — about how fast the industry has moved into what I think of as the modern streamer code. And about how, in my mind, I juxtapose that with an old-school streamer style that (maybe) a lot of anglers have forgotten about . . .
In time, all things in a river sink to the bottom. How much time do you have?
Here are the five elements: weight, depth adjustment, material resistance, drift length, current seams.
Each one of these elements works with the others to get deeper and to get there more naturally. It’s not enough to add some weight, just like it’s not enough to switch from 3X to 4X, or to slide the indy up the line or drop the sighter. All of it matters. And everything interacts with the other things beside it.
What if we get the weight right? What if we get the depth set, the distance factored in, and we’ve balance all of it together with the material resistance of the tippet and the flies themselves? What if we set everything up just right? What then is the X-factor?
With the Jiggy tied in, I quickly learned that nothing rides the bottom of the river like a ball jig. It bounces, canters, pivots and tap dances around rocks and gravel like nothing else. The ball itself is the key. It allows for some very unique presentations and movements. And when you really want to hug the bottom, you can set up your rig to feel those taps, as the Jiggy glides and scratches along the river bed.
That’s not to suggest that I constantly present a Jiggy deep down and glued to the rocks. Not at all. But when I do want to touch the bottom, to feel the rocks, hold a position or reach into the depths with precision, a Jiggy is the perfect vehicle. That is the key. That’s the special sauce of the Jiggy . . .