The Trout Zone

Sunday, August 31, 2025

Summer Adventures Way Up High in the Smoky Mountains

Summer is my least favorite season. This is primarily due to the heat and humidity that seems a little worse every year. Maybe I'm just getting older and less tolerant of a variety of weather conditions, but either way, summer isn't my favorite. There are a few redeeming features of the season, however.

First, the long days are fantastic. More light usually equals more energy, at least for me. Need to leave home by 5:00 am for a long day of fishing or guiding? No problem. When I get home later, say 6 pm or after, there is still plenty of light to enjoy a family walk through our neighborhood after eating supper. In the middle of winter, with sunset at 4:30 pm, that just isn't an option. Oh, and the fishing adventures in summer are always a joy. Smallmouth wade trips on the Cumberland Plateau, brook trout excursions in the Great Smoky Mountains, and of course tailwater float trips for large trout.

Yes, summer isn't all bad. However, by sometime in July, I'm usually trying to figure out how to escape the heat and humidity even if for a little while. I can do one or the other, but the combination of both is just miserable. Some years, that escape comes in the form of a trip out west. In other years, my only escape is to the high elevations of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

This year, by mid July, I noticed that a particular week of August still had no trips booked. Normally, I would sit tight with the knowledge that eventually some work will come through. That is part of the guide business after all. This summer had been unusually hot, however, and I was ready for a break. After a quick consultation with my wife, we made camping reservations for a favorite campground way up high in the Smokies. Even in the hottest summer months, it is always nice and cool. The humidity would probably be fairly high, but that is the nature of spending time in the temperate rainforest otherwise known as the Great Smoky Mountains.

As our scheduled trip got closer and closer, the weather pattern trended wetter and wetter. It became apparent that at minimum we would see a lot of rain. Such is life in the Smokies in summer where you can expect pop up showers and storms nearly every day at the higher elevations. Thankfully, we had an awning for our picnic table and a large roomy tent that I've had seemingly forever now and is still mostly waterproof.

We arrived at the campground during a lull in the rain chances and got everything set up quickly. After eating supper, some rain showers started to move in and we quickly made tracks for the inside of the tent. The little ones were super excited to get inside the tent and play. Thus, it took longer than usual to calm down for bedtime. Eventually, we all fell asleep to occasional rain showers whispering on the top of the tent.

The next morning started out wet. We had to dry the benches and table top before preparing breakfast. Eventually we got everything dry enough to fix breakfast. By some miracle, the weather cleared a little while we ate, meaning the clouds lifted enough to see more than a few feet. The fog up high in the Smokies is some of the thickest that I've ever seen, but on this morning it lifted enough that we had a window to enjoy what the mountain offered. A nearby trail beckoned with the chance to get a short hike and some fishing in. We hit the trail and all started down the hill. I was carrying a fly rod, hoping for some native brook trout.

Quickly, we began to find interesting wildflowers. I took more pictures than I should share here, at least some of which were firsts for me or at least the first time I bothered to identify them. One of the more interesting is commonly referred to as fly poison (Amianthium muscitoxicum). It is poisonous and affects livestock that consume it to varying degrees including death if large amounts are ingested. Early pioneers would grind the bulb into a powder, mix it with sugar, and set out the potion to kill flies, hence the common name.

Fly Poison wildflower in the Great Smoky Mountains

There were plenty of other interesting wildflowers, but I had my sight set on brook trout fishing. After a few quick pictures on the way by, I kept trekking down the hill to the stream. Running through a very high elevation valley, this particular stream contains pure southern strain brook trout. When you first see the little trickle, you have doubts as to weather it will contain fish, but sure enough, there are plenty of them swimming these cold waters.

I helped one of the little ones fish and we caught a brook trout. That gave us the opportunity to practice how to hold a trout carefully and respectfully. A few pictures were taken and then we sent the beautiful fish back to its watery home. That routine became the plan for the next thirty minutes or so. Wander and explore further downstream, catching the occasional fish and teaching the little one how to gently handle and release our catch.

High elevation native brook trout in the Great Smoky Mountains

As we hiked, other interesting things stood out to us. The usual wildflowers kept me looking around, of course, but we also found neat reflections in a forest pool on the trail. The ongoing wet spell had water everything, both flowing and standing. In another spot, the muddy trail had captured the track of a good sized bear that must have wandered through that morning. Anything earlier and the rain would have washed the track away. One section of trail had some beautiful fall colors where an early turning maple had showered the ground with color.

Autumn colors in Great Smoky Mountains National Park

About this time, we realized that lunch time was sneaking up on us. The little ones in particular would need to eat soon, so we reluctantly turned around. I wanted to sample a longer piece of water than I could with them in tow, so I told Mama that I would meet them at the first crossing upstream and started creek walking fast. Several fish later, including one particularly nice one, and I was more and more amazed at how many fish this stream held. Eventually, however, the stream appeared to be running out of a solid wall of rhododendron. Instead of plowing on through, I figured that I better catch up with everyone and jumped back up on the trail.

When I found them, the kids were getting soaked in the stream having the best time of their lives. Water was splashing and flying everywhere. After a quick cleanup and partial drying, we got everyone moving up the trail again. Upon arriving back at the trailhead, Mama and the littles decided to walk the road back while I took the truck back to the campsite. Wild blackberries were abundant and they wanted a pre lunch snack. I quickly got back, parked, and headed back down the road to find them. They were just about to the campground entrance when I found them. While looking for some blackberries for myself, I found another interesting wildflower and got some pictures.

Appalachian bellflower in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park

About that time, we decided to head back to camp to eat our real lunch. The wild blackberry snacks were delicious, but not particularly filling. We still had the whole afternoon ahead of us but it was threatening rain again. After lunch, the decision was made to head down the mountain. The Oconaluftee area of the Park was a good place to possibly avoid some of the showers in the higher elevations. I was contemplating some more fishing as well, although that part of the plan soon took a back seat. There were more interesting things to see for the Little Ones.

Oconaluftee River in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park

Upon arrival at Oconaluftee, we decided to enjoy the old farm behind the visitors center. That proved to be a big hit with the Littles, and we took some pictures to remember the afternoon by. I particularly enjoyed a squirrel that was going crazy feasting in a tree overhanging the walkway and eventually got a good picture of the critter perched upside down, chowing away.

Gray squirrel at Oconaluftee Visitor Center

Time began to get away from us, and we realized it was time to head back up the mountain. With luck, we might get some supper before the heaviest showers commenced again. On the way back, we briefly spotted a black bear that didn't hang around long enough for pictures. I did stop and get some quick shots of some orange fringed orchids that always bloom in that vicinity.

Back in camp, we got most of our evening routines done while staying reasonably dry, but it was obvious that the rain was setting in for a while. Sleeping in a tent during a good rain is one of my favorite parts of camping, providing of course that the tent doesn't leak. On this evening, we fell asleep to the gentle pitter patter of rain on the tent.

The rain fell on again and off again throughout the night and into the next morning. Finally it broke, and we got up and had breakfast. The Little Ones didn't particularly want to spend a lot of time in their car seats, but I had an idea that might just work. The fog was so thick on the mountain that everything was damp just because of the high humidity. Another drive down the mountain seemed in order. This time, we headed the other direction, towards Cataloochee Valley.

This proved to be another excellent choice. We were on the lee side of the mountains compared to the prevailing flow at the time, so Cataloochee was dry with partly cloudy skies. We saw more sun in Cataloochee than we did the entire rest of the time during our camping trip. A picnic lunch got us all energized for the afternoon. On our drive up the valley, one of the large bull elk posed for a few pictures.

Once we parked, I headed for the stream while Mama and the Little Ones grabbed a blanket and went to play and stretch their legs. I was excited to see Cataloochee Creek, one of my favorites in the Smokies. This was my first time in the Valley after Hurricane Helene, and I was very curious how the creek would look. To all appearances, it was healthy and the fish were all happy. The biggest difference was that some pools had filled in while others had deepened. I fished a favorite piece of water for probably 45 minutes. There were fish just about everywhere I expected to find them. True to recent history, I caught at least as many brook trout as anything else. I also managed one brown trout that also happened to be both my first fish landed and the least cooperative for pictures. By the time I caught back up with the family, I had my first Smokies slam of the year, all on a fun toy. The Redington Butterstick is a favorite for when I just want to have a good time. The fiberglass rod is soft but oh so much fun to fish.

After catching back up with the family, we headed on up the valley. There, we found significant road damage from Helene, but thankfully all the historic structures were still standing. The barn across the road from the Caldwell place was in fairly rough shape but still standing. I have since heard that the Park received a private donation/grant to restore some of these structures, so hopefully we'll be able to enjoy these structures for many years to come.

The wildflowers in the upper valley were particularly vibrant. Goldenrod and ironweed were drawing pollinators of all kinds. I took a few pictures that of course couldn't do the scene justice, but captured a few of the pollinators as well which was neat.

After getting back to the truck, we decided it was probably time to head back up the mountain for our final night of camping. Sure enough, as we drove that way it began threatening rain. We had one or two more rain showers before departing the next morning. However, we were fortunate that the next morning donned bright and drier than it had been during our whole time camping. Things were dry enough to sufficiently dry a fair amount of our gear and get packed at least without doing so in the pouring rain. It had been another successful and relaxing camping trip. I noticed my back was more sore than usual, reminding me that the ground is getting harder every year, but otherwise it was a great camping trip. This might even have to be added to the yearly routine for every summer moving forward. It is nice to escape the heat, even if for just a little while.

Wednesday, July 30, 2025

What It's All About

Fly fishing has been a way of life for me since I took the plunge from the relative security of teaching to being a guide. Really, it probably goes back a lot farther. I still tell people all the time about the bad student I was in college. At the beginning of each semester, I would peruse each syllabus for attendance information, then carefully plan on missing the maximum number of classes possible without getting my grade docked. This was all in the name of going fishing of course. Occasionally I would make a mistake and get sick after using up my allotted skip days, so my GPA was never as pretty as I was capable. Not bad, mind you, but not as good as it probably should have been.

One of my favorite things about fly fishing early in my career was the solitude. I fished on my own more than anything, although I had several great fishing buddies as well, some of whom I fish with to this day whenever we can make it happen. Still, even with this desire for solitude, I still enjoyed the human component. Over time, I made friends with the good folks at Little River Outfitters, eventually even working a summer there during college.

Becoming a fly fishing guide really sped up a transition in my preference for fishing with friends. Nowadays, I'm much less likely to go fishing on my own, although I still enjoy it from time to time. Fishing with clients is still enjoyable to me even after guiding for going on 12 years. In fact, I get about as much enjoyment out of watching someone else catch fish than doing it myself. All of that said, I still enjoy the process of the sport. The intersection of science and art that is fly fishing provides a creative outlet that never gets old.

Last week, I was guiding on the Clinch River one of several days. Upon launching the drift boat, I backed out into the little pool at the foot of the ramp and anchored up for a few moments while we double checked rigging and otherwise prepared for the fast approaching fishing. As a guide and amateur naturalist, I'm always taking everything in. Accordingly, I glanced over the side of the boat and noticed a small dead fish in the bottom of the boat ramp pool. Intrigued, I quickly employed my boat net to fish it out.

A nondescript dark olive and black mottled sculpin was the reward for my effort. I showed it to my clients and took the appropriate pictures. That evening, I sat down for a burst of creativity. You see, the next day I was going fishing. Not taking someone fishing, but going fishing. I made certain of my proportions, referred back to the photo for the color scheme, and otherwise was as precise as possible while also enjoying the creative artsy element of fly design at least as much if not more than the more scientific side of things. Soon, I had a very close match of the sculpin from that morning and was ready to go fishing.

The next morning, I was on the road bright and early. Upon arriving at the takeout ramp to await my friends Pat (fellow fly fishing guide at TZA) and Matt (biologist, professor, author of "Fly Fishing for Redeye Bass" and fellow fly angler), I rigged up one rod. I was going to more or less stick to streamer fishing. On a whim, I also rigged a nymph rod but ultimately only fished it for about 5 minutes on this day. My newly tied sculpin went on the streamer rod with a 250 grain Orvis depth charge line.

After my buddies arrived and we drove up to the put in, I started the day on the oars. I wasn't really interested in general fishing. No, I had some big fish to chase with my new sculpin. We worked through some sections of river and picked up a few fish on nymphs. Both Pat and Matt were doing a good job of getting drifts where we needed to. The fish were the usual quality rainbow trout that the Clinch River is known for. Healthy specimens that often average 14-16 inches on many days, we were enjoying the acrobatics they provided. Eventually, we got to a section of river that I was interested in streamer fishing and Pat graciously jumped on the oars for a while.

A few half hearted follows later, I jumped back on the oars to let Pat fish the better nymph water. There are certain sections that tend to hold larger fish, and I was most interested in streamer fishing where the big brown trout live. I have caught plenty of brown trout up to 22 or 23 inches on the Clinch, but never any giants on a streamer, and I set that goal for myself a while back. I haven't been as diligent as I should be but try to streamer fish there at least a couple of days a year.

Eventually, we got below some of the best nymph water and were fast approaching prime streamer water. Pat again switched with me and I started hunting with the newly created sculpin. Sure enough, as we dropped into the first good run, a big fish slammed the streamer as it came over a drop-off. I stripped hard and felt good resistance briefly before the line went slack. So close and yet so far. That fish would have easily gone 22 or 23 inches and perhaps larger, a good start towards my goal of a big fish on a streamer. When I think of big brown trout on streamers, I'm really looking more for a fish in the mid to high twenty inch range or better, but I won't grumble about any quality brown trout.

After that nice missed fish, I quickly nailed a smaller brown in the 14 or so inch range and soon thereafter, had another heartbreaker. We were drifting through a huge but short pool between ledges. I had cast as far as I could and was simply working the fly erratically through the depths when I spied an absolute giant swing and miss on my fly. It was the one I've been looking for, easily. After grousing about it for a minute, I got back in the game and soon got a nice rainbow. Pat kindly took a picture for me with my new fly prominently in the trout's mouth. It was small consolation for the monster that had just eluded me.

Sculpin eating rainbow trout on the Clinch River

In the end, however, that is what keeps us going back. Those missed fish are on replay in my mind and keep driving me back for another go. Later in the float, I missed 2 more very nice trout that I would like to have another shot at, but that will have to be for another day. I finished my streamer fishing with three fish to hand, one big brown missed, and another giant spotted that didn't quite eat the fly. Best of all, my new fly easy had the approval from the fish. That is the important part and what fly fishing is all about. Matching their natural food source, presenting the fly, and catching a fish. With time, the camaraderie becomes more and more important, but at the end of the day, I still want to catch a fish, maybe design a new fly, and best of all, continue to learn more and more about this wonderful sport.

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

Hiking Season

If you've followed this blog for any length of time, then you probably know that I enjoy hiking almost as much as fishing. Photography is a close second as well. For the past handful of years, I've been running into a good problem to have. My fly fishing guide business here in middle and east Tennessee keeps me busy enough that it can be tough finding time for other things that I enjoy.

While you won't hear me complaining about having enough work, it can be a challenge to stay in shape. As my business has grown, more and more of those trips have been float trips. I enjoy working out of the drift boat, but being a fly fishing guide on the waterways of east and middle Tennessee also means spending large parts of my year in rather sedentary fashion for me. I probably need to devote more time to running or jogging, but it can be hard to find motivation at the end of a long day when I just want to get some supper and spend time with my family. Thus, as trips start to slow down a little in the cold months, I enter into what I like to call hiking season.

In addition to having plenty of time on my hands, it also helps that it is generally cold or at least cool out. Another big reason I don't hike more in the warm months is that I really hate getting thoroughly drenched. If you've ever hiked in the southeast in summer, you know that you'll end up sweating buckets. The humidity is impossible to get away from. This time of year, with the weather being cooler, I get out for exercise and enjoy not overheating. On some days, there can be a fine line between being too cold and too hot, but that is easier to figure out for me than when there is just the option of being too hot.

Recently, with the guide calendar opening up just a little and the weather finally cooling down, I've started spending time hiking more again. The first trip was a big treat.

Hiking Virgin Falls Alone

Over the years, I have hiked the Virgin Falls trail many, many times. I've even hiked it at night. It is one of my favorite trails in the area and at just 30 minutes from my front door, it is easy to get away for a few hours. Recently, I've hiked it twice. The first time was epic. I got to the trailhead, and there was NO ONE THERE. Seriously, no vehicles, no Park rangers, no one. That trail has become popular enough that it is almost impossible to enjoy it that way, but I seriously had the whole entire place to myself.

I've taken to carrying some of my camera gear when I hike. Some days it just serves as weight in my pack as I try to get in better shape. On other days, it actually gets used. When I had all of Virgin Falls to myself, you better believe I used my camera gear. Capturing several of the area falls without anyone intruding into the picture is challenging normally. On this day, it was simply a bonus.

The majority of my "picture" time was spent at Big Laurel Falls. The light was perfect for this time of year and flows were low enough that I could shoot from much closer than normal without covering my lens in spray from the falls. Here are several of my favorite shots of Big Laurel Falls.

After noticing that time was ticking away, I quickly packed up and hustled over to Sheep Cave and then on to Virgin Falls. I still haven't been inspired to shoot Sheep Cave. Maybe I just haven't considered my angles enough yet, but either way I just took a quick selfie on my cellphone to show I had been there, and then kept trucking.

Virgin Falls was another story. I wanted to find some hepatica blooming and knew that the top of the falls was a good bet. I took pictures of the falls (for perspective, it is 110 feet tall) itself, then climbed up to enjoy the top (and a few hepatica!). Every year, I try to find hepatica blooming for as many consecutive months as possible. Virgin Falls and one or two other caves are my best bet for finding them in December and January. By February, the opportunities start to expand and by March, we are at peak bloom for the early spring wildflowers. I got my pictures of the falls, found my wildflowers, then realized the day was growing late.

On the way out, I kept expecting to run into some other hikers, but it just never happened. In fact, when I got back to the trailhead, it was still empty. That is possibly the first time I've ever done that, and certainly the first time in a good long while. I don't expect to enjoy that again too often, so I savored the moment. My tired legs were glad to sit down and point the truck back towards home. I am in poor enough shape that I was dealing with some leg cramps for the last couple of miles of the hike. Thankfully, on my next visit, that problem was almost nonexistent.

Hiking Dry Creek Falls Trail

After that first Virgin Falls hike for this cool season, I made a second return visit a week later. On that trip, there were a few other hikers around, reminding me yet again how special the last visit had been. Thankfully, on this next visit, I didn't have as much trouble with my legs wanting to cramp. A few more hikes and that problem should be in the review mirror for a while at least.

Then, just yesterday, with super nice weather and the threat of some serious winter cold coming soon, we took a family trip down to the Lost Creek vicinity. I talked my dad into joining and we decided to hike the Dry Creek Falls Trail from Lost Creek to Dog Cove. Having been up to Dry Creek Falls via Rylander Cascade one other time but no further, I was excited to hike some new to me trail.

The climb from Lost Creek up to Dry Creek Falls was longer and more sustained than we remembered. Once the trail topped out on the Plateau, I realized why it had felt like such a climb. Still, the hike was pleasant with perfect weather in the 50s with mostly sunny skies.

Once we hit the top of the Plateau, it was easy to make good time. We cruised along until we saw Meditation Rock which required a brief stop. I didn't spend any time there with my camera, but we did enjoy the trail much more from that point on down to Dog Cove. The trail started descending not much farther past Meditation Rock. The trail builders did an excellent job of making the trail as interesting as possible. In one spot, it looped around a GIANT boulder, just because. In another, it sent under a pile of boulders that created an arch of sports, apparently just because again. I like trails that have character and interesting features, so I was glad that they incorporated these interesting sections into the trail.

Just before we started to seriously drop off of the Plateau, I looked around and wondered why there was no sign of any rock climbing. We discovered the reason not too much farther down the trail. Apparently it incorporates a lot of Nature Conservancy land, and rock climbing (among other activities) was expressly forbidden. That is both good and bad. Good because, well, this area will stay wild and protected. Bad because, there are some awesome rocks that would be fun to climb. I haven't climbed much in many years, though, so it isn't much loss for me.

Overall, this is definitely a trail I would hike again. I think next time I'm going to get dropped off in Dog Cove, then hike to Virgin Falls, and get picked up at the Virgin Falls trailhead up on the Plateau. That would be a great day hike!

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

2024 Year in Review

This was a great year of fishing for me. I got out on the water less than ever for myself, but ran a ton of guided trips of course. This trend towards less personal fishing has made me focus on quality over quantity. That might involve unusual adventures or even something closer to home but on new to me water or sections of water. For example, on my annual fall camping trip, I fished some new to me water on Noland Creek. I've been slowly working on fishing my way up that drainage, so each trip extends further and further into the backcountry.

Something else that I've started doing is setting myself fishing goals. This helps me stay accountable to put in the time to make good things happen. These goals are usually for the cold season. This past winter I had two goals. I accomplished one. The big brown trout on the Clinch on a streamer didn't happen. The other challenge was because I hadn't personally caught a musky in a good long while, and decided it was time to make it happen again.

The musky just happened to be my personal best (time to break 40" now) at 39" as well and came on a rather unusual technique. Verifying that the technique worked meant as much to me as landing the fish in general, but I was glad to get it done either way. Read more about that musky HERE.

The next grand adventure was the White River in Arkansas. After all these years, I finally made it out to the White River to fly fish. It was an epic trip on so many levels, including some great brown trout. You can read more about that trip HERE. In addition to catching big brown trout on streamers, we also enjoyed the solar eclipse. This event in early April was one of several big celestial events this year that we enjoyed.

The next big event was the cicadas of brood XIX. My favorite thing about these periodic cicadas by far is fishing for carp with big dry flies and this year's emergence didn't disappoint. I guided them for about a month straight and occasionally caught a few for myself as well. Here is an article I did about the joys of fishing the cicada hatch. If you haven't done it before, there is another brood in 2025 that should produce some good action. Here is one of many I caught even in the limited time I got to fish for myself.

While my fishing escapades started to drop off after the cicadas, I still had some good moments. The real treat of the year happened coincident with the great carp cicada fishing, however. It wasn't even fishing related. The northern lights, aurora borealis, descended much further south than usual and blessed us with an epic viewing opportunity here in Tennessee not once, but twice. The first time was the best. You can read more and see pictures from that HERE. While I have a hard time picking my favorite picture from that magical night, here is one of several.

After the epic spring and summer, the second half of 2024 was more mundane for me with one big exception. We had our second little one in July and it has been a grand adventure ever since. This is the real reason I haven't headed off on any more big adventures out west without the family. I want to be around to enjoy everything there is associated with having a little one in the house. I did end up with a little more time than usual, and finally got around to blogging about my Wyoming fly fishing adventure from 2023. Better late than never! Read about each of them using the links below.

I already shared a link in the beginning of this post to my fall camping trip. Other than that, it has been a routine fall and early winter. The big thing recently has been a tangible annual leap forward in my guiding skills and angling knowledge. I'm encouraged that I am still learning a ton every single year. When I quit learning and improving, then I'll get bored with what I'm doing. In the meantime, I'm still out there trying to crack all the codes I can. If you want to get on the water with me and learn some of my newest tricks, feel free to reach out about booking a guided trip. You can find all trip pricing at www.troutzoneanglers.com/rates/ or let me know if you have any questions.

Now, I'm working on fishing goals for 2025. First and foremost, I want to finish the goal that I set for myself last winter: a giant brown trout on the Clinch River on a streamer. I also want to catch more musky, that's always a given, but more importantly, I have a couple of friends that I want to get on a musky as well. Some will be their first time, others have done it but it has been a while. I'm also working on how to possibly get back to the White River in Arkansas again as well as another trip out west. Those trips may or may not happen for the same reason(s) that I haven't gotten out much in the second half of 2024. Time will tell. I also want to hit another epic cicada hatch and this upcoming year looks like a good bet. We should have them in good numbers in east Tennessee. I plan to work on being in better shape/conditioning as well. That will involve more hiking and jogging/running. I've been working on that lately already. See my picture below from a recent hike. Either way, I'm excited to see what the New Year has in store!

Big Laurel Falls on the Virgin Falls Trail

Sunday, December 01, 2024

Annual Fall Camping Trip in the Smokies: 2024 Version

Every year, I try to make it over to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park outside of work for a fun trip. As a Great Smoky Mountains fly fishing guide, I need these occasional retreats to stay excited about my home waters. That usually means camping for 2-3 nights and fishing hard for a couple of days. This year, I planned the usual trip, but as the day of the trip drew closer, the weather was looking iffy. After deciding to NOT chicken out, I made the drive over to Smokemont Campground midday on Sunday, and got my tent set up before the rain set in too much. It was sprinkling while I put it up, but thankfully never got serious.

After the tent went up, I was ready to hit the water for a couple of hours before getting a good night's rest. I put together my current all-round favorite rod, a 10' 3 weight Orvis Recon. That rod is literally a do it all workhorse for me. I cast heavy nymph rigs, dry flies, and jig streamers with that rod. Being a little stiffer than most "nymphing" rods, it isn't the best for beginners looking to dry fly fish because you don't feel the rod load like you might with a softer rod, but it can handle anything you throw at it with a little practice.

First Day Streamer Fishing for Quality Brown Trout

With the clouds and rain lingering, I decided to fish for pre-spawn brown trout with streamers. This time of year, brown trout are getting ready for the fall dance, and while I don't advocate for or recommend fishing to spawning fish, both pre- and post-spawn fish are hungry and looking for a meal. Streamers are a good way to pick up some of these aggressive fish.

I decided to stay close to camp and headed down to some favorite pools nearby. After working through the first run and missing a couple of small fish, I started to hope that the good weather conditions were going to offset the very low water from our ongoing drought conditions. Sure enough, the second pool I jumped into worked out in a big way.

A long flat with a fast run at the head attracted my attention. I've often seen some big fish spawn in the back of that flat, and while I wasn't interested in looking for spawning fish, I was interested in fish that had either already spawned or were preparing to spawn but still looking for that last meal. The fast run at the head of the flat provided a perfect ambush spot. A large boulder on the far bank caused the current to sweep back towards meal while simultaneously providing a perfect spot for a brown trout to hide and wait for a hapless baitfish to swim by.

My first cast was almost too far and fell on top of a submerged boulder just below the primary boulder. I raised my rod to jig the streamer and it got whacked as soon as it fell off the boulder into deeper water. The fish gave several solid runs and head shakes, so I knew it was the typically "average" Smokies fish. Sure enough, moments later I slid a solid 15" pre-spawn female into my big Brodin net. I carefully cradled her in the water while getting a closeup or two. She was not too far off from hopefully producing the next generation, so I was careful to not squeeze under her belly. It isn't too hard to accidentally strip eggs or milt from these fish this time of year, so always play it safe and keep them in the water.

After soaking in the moment and being thankful for my ability to spend time in such a special place, I worked up to the next pool. Here, I found several large brown trout glued to the bottom. Knowing that a switch to a nymph setup would probably yield a fish or two, I instead decided to work the streamer with an all or nothing mindset. Sure enough, in the swift water at the head of the pool, a big dark shadow chased my streamer and did everything but eat. Several more fruitless casts convinced me that the fish had indeed spooked. Oh well, on to the next spot.

I was feeling lazy at this point with one nice fish already landed, so I walked well upstream to some more easy to access pools. In one of my favorites, another high point of this trip would occur.

I had already missed a fish or two in a couple of small pockets on the walk up. The main pool I was working towards ended up being perfect, however. I started in the back, carefully working every bit of real estate with my jig streamer. Just as I was about to give up, I figured, "One more shot in the very head." Sure enough, the pattern was starting to crystallize. My streamer jigged once and then got slammed. This was obviously a larger fish than my first nice brown. I was hoping to maybe break 20" or better, but it wasn't quite meant to be. Still, a solid 17" brown trout in the Smokies is a fine fish any day. I got a picture or two, then continued up to look at a couple last pools before heading to camp to fix supper.

Day One Evening In Camp

Nothing particularly interesting happened in the last two holes but I did miss another fish. There is no telling how big (or not) it was. Back in camp, I put together some chili, chips, cheese, and sour cream for a nice hot meal. The rain was still holding off when my buddy and fellow fly fishing guide Pat Tully showed up. He was going to camp for one night, fish the next day, then needed to be back home.

We chatted for a while before crawling into our sleeping bags for the night. I was tired from working many long days, and fell asleep quickly. Morning came sooner than expected, but I felt rested after a night in the fresh air. After a quick breakfast, we decided to fish nearby for the day on the Oconaluftee. This proved to be a nice relaxing choice.

Day Two Fly Fishing the Oconaluftee River

Regardless of whether I am fishing for myself or guiding, spending time on the "Luftee is always a treat. The river has a nice mix of water types and sizes. We started down low looking for larger brown trout. The best we could find was in that 12-13" range and while beautiful, definitely wasn't what we had come looking for. A few other trout including some nicer stocker rainbows kept us entertained, but we wanted something more or different. Before totally giving up, we decided to just "fish through" a section of water, and a fairly length one at that.

I sometimes joke about how lazy I've become as an angler. This is probably a by-product of being on the water every day, but when I'm fishing for myself, I just don't put as much effort as I used to. Note that this does not extend to my "work" fishing. I still try as hard as ever to put people on fish, but I think part of it for me is just the joy of being out there, and catching fish has truly become secondary to the overall experience for me personally. Some of it may just be the residual exhaustion of having little ones at home. Either way, this was all best illustrated during this fishing session.

Pat and I were working up that section of water and decided to skip a section with the goal of getting even higher up the stream. In the process of walking up, we ended up on a high bank looking down in a great run that always looks super fishy. Sure enough, I quickly spotted a big fish. Maybe not a true monster, but no one in their right mind would scoff at a two foot long or better brown trout. This fish was laying deep in back of the run, probably at least 4 feet deep. Two or three other fish that were very nice in their own right sat just below. Fish were clearly staging for the upcoming spawn, and these fish were waiting for better water or weather conditions to move up and do their thing.

The funny thing about the lazy part (which you might have guessed was coming) is that when I told Pat he was welcome to fish for those fish, he declined and we both decided to walk away from close to a sure thing. I can't say for certain that we would have caught those fish, but they were exactly the kind of fish that we can usually get to eat something. Since I had spotted them first, they were technically "my fish." When I offered them to Pat, I was kind of hoping he would slide down that steep bank and catch them. Once he declined, it quickly became obvious that we were out for something more than a 24" brown.

Moments like that leave me wondering just how big a fish needs to be for me to really go out of my way these days. Hopefully I'll have a reason to find out sometime soon, but it wasn't meant to be on this particular trip. In hindsight, I probably should have fished for those fish, but I was more interested in seeing what else might be happening. So, in the end, I'm left realizing that while I don't fish as hard as I used to, it is also the curiosity that keeps driving me on. I'm often willing to walk away from the known quantity in fishing to see what else might be.

When we got to the end of that section without finding anymore monsters, it motivated us to try something a little different which proved to be just the right call.

Tenkara Fishing in the Great Smoky Mountains

For the last several months at least and maybe longer, Pat and I have been talking about doing some Tenkara fishing. While it is something that I do both for personal fishing and guiding/work fishing, it was new for him. When we got back to our vehicles and I mentioned that I had a couple Tenkara rods with me, Pat was all for it. Something new and at the same time something instructional was a good idea. As guides, we are always trying to add to our repertoire of offerings, and I've been telling Pat for a while that he should work on being able to guide Tenkara anglers. While I don't run a ton of Tenkara only trips, it happens often enough that we could use at least one more guide who can offer Tenkara trips also.

We headed upstream to where the river gets smaller, fitting in perfectly with my philosophy on the best application for this method. One section of pocket water in particular just happened to be a favorite of both of ours. I pulled out rods and showed Pat how to rig up. Once we got it all together, I showed him the nuances of casting a Tenkara rod compared to a "regular" fly rod. In the process, I found our first Tenkara fish of the day. This fish was my favorite of the day, because it came on the Tenkara rod instead of my usual fly rod.

Tenkara caught brown trout on the Oconaluftee River

Pat took over from there and soon we were taking turns every other fish. One of the best moments came a short distance upstream when Pat found a gorgeous brown trout of his own. This fish fought like a tiger on the light Tenkara rod and Pat was left grinning with a new found appreciation for the "glorified cane pole fishing" methods we were using.

Close up of a Smoky mountain brown trout on Tenkara

Shortly after that nice brown, we finished up our day. I wanted to kick around closer to camp a little and Pat was heading back home that evening. So, we went our separate ways.

Day Two Evening In Camp

After Pat left, I went down to check on another favorite section of water close to camp. I ended up calling it quits with some daylight still left. I had covered a lot of water that day and my legs were getting tired. I've finally learned that bad things like falls usually happen when I'm getting tired, and I'm no longer too proud to call it a day.

Back in camp, I was glad that I had called it. The evening was cooling down rapidly, and I wanted to get my supper and evening chores done before it got too cold. My warm sleeping bag was already calling to me. After a warm supper and a little time to relax in camp, I crawled into my sleeping bag and was soon asleep. Having little ones at home means that I have to take advantage of the opportunity to get extra sleep when it comes around. I took full advantage that night, going to bed shortly after dark and sleeping soundly until day break.

Day Three Fly Fishing Noland Creek

I didn't know it that morning, but this would be my last day of fishing on this trip. The plan that day was for one of my other guides, Chris Bean, to join me to explore up Noland Creek. I've been slowly working my way up that stream and was ready to fish a "new" to me section. Chris hadn't done much there, so he was ready to explore as well.

He got there in a timely manner, and I was still eating my granola, yogurt, pecans, and banana breakfast. It wasn't long before I was ready, however, and we headed out of the campground and west towards Bryson City. One of my favorite little mountain towns, I didn't spend much time there on this trip, but it is always a good time driving through on my way to one of the local trout streams.

For this trip, it was hard to pass the turn to Deep Creek, but we made ourselves stick to the plan and continued on down the Road To Nowhere (AKA Lakeshore Drive). There were already a couple of vehicles at the Noland Creek trailhead, but there was no sign of them anywhere as we geared up and hiked in. By the time we got to a good starting point, the sun was starting to work down in to the stream bottom and warm things up.

It didn't take long to start finding fish. I didn't know if the cool night was going to be a problem, but it turned out that fish were active more or less from the get go that morning. That said, there was a noticeable surge in activity during the warmest part of the afternoon before it abruptly started shutting down as the shadows lengthened towards the end of the day. This time of year, with the low sun angle, that starts much earlier than people think.

In between that first fish and moment activity started slowing down, we found a respectable number of fish without really catching enough to get bored with it. We had to work just hard enough to keep things enjoyable and even caught a few on dry flies. In between, we had lots of good conversation while leap frogging our way upstream. Often, we would each take one side of the stream and take turns fishing depending on which side had the best angle on any given spot.

While we didn't find anything particularly noteworthy from a fishing standpoint beyond the standard Smoky Mountain rainbows, I did find some extensive hog sign. One area looked like it had been rototilled while another couple of spots had very obvious and recently utilized wallows. I always hate to see the widespread damage caused by these invasive pests.

We were having a great time fishing, but as the sun dropped and the bite abruptly started to shut down, we both agreed that getting out at a reasonable time was best. Making good time on the way out, I started to contemplate my own warm house and soft bed. Moreover, I was missing the family back home. When we got back to camp, I made up my mind to tear down camp as fast as I could and head home.

Originally, I was supposed to stay another night and fish a little more the next day before heading home. However, priorities have a way of shifting in life. I was more than satisfied with the wonderful getaway and fishing but was raring to get back home. And just like that, yet another fishing trip drew to a close. Chris and I caravanned over the hill back to the TN side in the waning light of a November evening. Shortly after exiting the Park with it getting dark, I called to surprise my family with news of my early return. Thankfully they were glad to get me back.

Trip Wrap Up

It had been another successful trip. While my measure of success has shifted a TON over the years, I had seen some new water (super high on the list of things that I consider making a trip successful), caught fish, spent time with friends, and even made a new fishing friend back in camp. It had been an excellent trip, and I'll look forward to doing it again next year.

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Bubbles

It has been a while since I've shared some tips to up your fly fishing game. While reading is helpful, it doesn't replace in-person coaching via a guided experience. I'm glad to help with that as well, of course. However, sometimes figuring things out at least a little on your own brings joy to the journey. If you need just a little guidance to steer your fishing in more productive directions, this blog post is for you.

While dead drifting (or otherwise) our flies on mountain streams and even larger rivers, we are normally looking for current seams. These changes in current speed (and sometimes even direction) are usually where trout like to hang out, mostly for obvious reasons. They can sit on the "slow" side, expending much less energy than if they sit on the "fast" side. When food drifts by, the fish can dart out, grab it, then go back to a more or less resting position. This is just part of very basic theory on reading water, something most of you have already heard many times.

The thing that has occurred to me recently is that very few people can recognize bubbles, or more accurately, bubble lines. Bubbles are often the best place to fish on a mountain stream. The slower the bubbles are moving, the better, especially if they coincide with deeper water. People also don't recognize back eddies.

Most people look at current tongues, and while that isn't wrong, the focus is often on less productive portions of those current tongues. The heart of the current tongue will hold fish, sometimes even a lot of fish. However, the edges, precisely where those bubbles are, will generally hold a lot more fish.

Now, when I say bubbles, I probably should clarify a bit. What I often refer to as bubble lines on our trout streams are probably more like foam bubble lines. The bubbles are often small bits of foam that are floating along down the edges of the heavier currents. Most current tongues have at least one dominant foam/bubble line on one side or the other, but most have one on each side. The foam bubbles are generally white here in the Smokies. On tailwaters, this time of year in particular, they can take on a dirty white color sometimes even tinged with yellows or browns. In the mountains, that can also happen as more and more leaves fall in the streams, turning everything into a natural tea.

Sometimes, these foam bubbles are swept into back eddies. These almost stationary foam bubbles that slowly swirl in a circle can be some of the very best spots...if there is decent depth. Brook trout in particular like eddies, but both rainbows and browns will utilize them also.

Bubbles are probably most important in the transition seasons. Trout in the spring and fall are more likely to be in locations with intermediate water speeds. In the heat of summer, go ahead and throw your fly right in that fast current. In the winter, you better be fishing the slowest and deepest portions of a pool, at least if water temperatures are cold. But in spring and fall, fish will be transitioning between these two water types, and bubble lines will show you the way to the fish.

Along with those bubble lines, look for buckets. What I mean by a bucket is a small to medium sized depression on the bottom that is deeper than all the surrounding water. If there is a nice sized pocket with good current throughout with an obvious bubble line on both sides, the side that also features a bucket with the bubble line directly overhead will have nearly all of the fish in the pool. If the pool lacks a bucket, go for the deeper side, even if the current is uniform.

All of this isn't to say that fish won't be on the shallow side or that fish won't also live in places other than those buckets, but that type of water will usually hold more and better fish than some of the more marginal water. In other words, if you throw 10 casts in a pool, put 7 on the better side and 3 on the less likely side.

Finally, all of this is well and good, but won't do you any good if you don't get out on the water. I hope these tips help, but the best teacher is simply putting in your time on the water. Get out there and fish!

Here are some examples of the bubbles I was referring to...