Colorado 2022 Day Five: A Wonderful Afternoon on a Favorite Meadow Stream

One of the best afternoon's of the whole trip snuck up on me. That is, I really didn't expect it or see it coming. Some of the best adventures are unplanned, however. The trick is to take advantage of those small kindnesses that sometimes happen. I am still full of gratitude over this particular one, because my wife took on the exhausting task of wrangling a toddler while I lazied around and fished. But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Morning Routine in Camp at Timber Creek Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park

The day dawned cold but bright. With frost everywhere and air temperatures around freezing, we weren't dying to sit around eating breakfast, but when the little one wakes up, we all wake up. So, we began what became a morning routine for the next couple of days. Get up, drive around to see the sights and look for wildlife, then have breakfast. This isn't absolutely necessary if you have a high cold tolerance, but we just weren't used to cold weather yet. 

Because Timber Creek Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park lies at the base of a mountain range, the sun is blocked for the first hours of daylight and camp remains shaded. As soon as the sun peaks over the ridge, things warm up quickly. The trick for us was to stay busy until the sun crested the ridge. Then we were warm enough to fix breakfast and not freeze ourselves or the toddler.

Our driving was partly to look for wildlife and partly to look for fall colors. We had attempted to time our trip late enough to have some decent colors, but early enough that it wouldn't be too frigid. In the end, we won some and lost some. More on that later, but let's say for now that we would have gladly traded cold mornings for warm sunny afternoons later in the trip.

A fun part of our daily routine that we didn't see coming was washing the dishes. Let me explain a little more. I don't know about you, but I never get excited about washing dishes in freezing cold water at a little dishwashing station behind the restroom in National Park Service campgrounds. It is a necessary annoyance to an otherwise great time, of course, but a little hot water would make things much more enjoyable. What made dishwashing fun here was the little table next to the sink. It had a lower shelf that was perfect for a toddler exploring. In fact, the little one enjoyed dishwashing enough to make up for any discomfort the rest of us experienced.

The other fun part of this camp in general was the wild raspberries. These had been introduced to little bit on a previous day's hike and she LOVED them. I can't say I blame her. The only downside here is that there weren't enough left to go around. She was happy to eat as many as Ma Ma and Da Da could find. We had to keep a close eye on her, however, to make sure she didn't sample any and every red colored berry or seed pod.

By the time things had really warmed and we had played some around camp, it was time to make some decisions on what to do that day. We had one or two hikes that we wanted to accomplish while camping at Timber Creek, but had already decided that the next day was a hiking day. That was when my wife gave me an amazing opportunity. She would drop me off at one access point, drive a short distance up the road, and let the little one explore and play and otherwise move around while I fished my way up the meadow to meet them.

We made one small error in the planning process. Knowing that a toddler might not want to look at historical buildings for too long, we decided that if they got bored and didn't see me, then they should drive back down to the start point and start walking the meadow to look for me. Thankfully they didn't get that far, but it would prove to be a small problem. 

The Afternoon Fly Fishing the North Fork of the Colorado River in Kawuneeche Valley

I was heading in to a favorite piece of water, albeit one I hadn't fished in probably 10 years or close to it. This stream is every bit as good as the more famous meadow stream on the other side of the mountain, or maybe I should say more fished meadow stream on the other side of the mountain. This stream is famous enough as the headwaters of one of the most famous rivers in the country. It just happens to be farther from major population centers than the stream I fished earlier on this trip.

This meadow stream winds through an amazingly beautiful valley. Wildlife abounds with elk and moose both likely. As you maneuver your way through the occasional evergreen thickets, watch out for these big critters. You also need to watch out for random holes in the stream bank as is the case on most meadow streams. 

I started hustling out of the gate, er, car door. I wanted to see a long stretch of meadow and only had 2-3 hours at best. Traveling light, I had my rod, a spool of tippet, a small cup of my favorite flies for late summer meadow streams, and scissor forceps. That's it. I hiked upstream to one of my favorite runs and started there. Per the usual, I spooked a couple of nice browns from the tailout. This was a good reminder to slow down just enough as to not alert the browns to my presence.

The first fish didn't take long. But as usual with fishing slow meadow water with my favorite fly and method, I missed a lot more than I caught. Still, I was seeing, and catching, enough fish to keep me both entertained and focused. Thus, when I had a big brown rush the fly, I was ready with a hard hookset. Nothing. I didn't even feel the fish. Maybe I misjudged and the fish never ate. Who knows. Needless to say, I wanted to go back in the worst way, but it just wasn't meant to be.

Continuing up river, I found nice fish after nice fish. The largest was a heavy female that was in the mid to high teens lengthwise. The two or three big fish I saw never quite found the hook. At least one of them was really big, as in, the kind you dream about. But that was what keeps me going back to these meadow streams. Seeing a brown blur rocket out from under the slightest undercut bank never gets old.

Reminder To Fish The Whole Spot

One of my favorite fish was also a good reminder for an old lesson. Never give up until you fish the WHOLE spot. All the way to the top. I was coming into a picture perfect bend. Undercut banks farther bank in the run looked fishy but didn't produce. I kept moving up to the top. Finally, I through to what I thought was the top, close to some downed wood. Nothing. 

When you fish through a perfect pool and don't catch anything or even see anything, it always leaves you wondering what if. With the technique I was employing, fish usually react from great distances, so if I'm in the neighborhood, I usually feel confident that I'm close enough. Still, I apparently had missed something here. Moving up another step, I sent a final cast above the drop into the pool. Immediately, a fish that apparently had its noise literally on the drop-off came rocketing up from the bottom to nail the fly. Never mind that I had placed a cast probably 1.5-2 feet behind it and PLENTY close enough to get its attention. That fish wasn't moving unless the fly was where it wanted it.

Finishing My Fishing 

After that fish, I realized I was seriously running low on time and needed to start hustling. I still tossed my flies in a spot or two, but mostly my trip was running down. That point was reinforced when I thought I saw our car drive slowly by on the road. If Mama and the Baby were looking for me, then I was probably running a little late. I waved and otherwise tried to get their attention, but I also knew I was dressed to blend in. It was time to just move. Hoping they would drive back up the road to look again, I started really hustling. 

By the time I hit an official "trail" at the next access point, I found that I had cut it even closer than I intended. The fields were "closed" at 5:00 pm due to the elk rut that was ongoing. I was a few minutes over, but thankfully the ranger driving by didn't seem to mind. I hustled out to the parking lot only to discover no ride. That wasn't a problem. I just started walking down the road back towards my start point. Eventually I saw a familiar car come driving towards me and they pulled over so I could jump in. 

It had been a glorious afternoon of fishing, one of the last nice warm days of our trip although I didn't know that at the time. I can't say I got enough meadow stream fishing, but then it is better to leave wanting more than to exhaust yourself entirely. Meadow streams are always a huge treat, mostly because I just don't have this water type here in Tennessee. I love guiding and fishing on my home tailwaters and the streams in the Smokies, but seeing different water types is always fun. 

Colorado 2022 Day Three: Rain, Sight Seeing at Sprague Lake, and Fishing the Big Thompson in Moraine Park

While this was only our third full day in Colorado, a theme would begin to emerge that would eventually really become a serious problem. Rain. Still, we were early enough into our trip that we weren't concerned, other than trying to figure out how to keep the little one entertained and happy. There was plenty of time for the weather to return to the clear sunny days with seasonably warm temperatures we were hoping for. 

Morning In Camp

Thankfully, our morning started out pleasant enough. The clouds were spilling over the divide, suggesting that the majority of Trail Ridge Road was probably socked in with fog, clouds, and perhaps even rain. Still, some early sun slanted in to camp and warmed things just enough that a light jacket was all we needed. 

Little bit enjoyed exploring around camp a little more than she had been able to thus far. We examined rocks, sticks, flowers, and of course any wild critters brave enough to stick around. This meant mostly small things like birds, chipmunks, and ground squirrels. While these smaller versions of the pictures don't do the scene justice, one of my favorite pictures from this day was of her interacting with a group of magpies. 

"Black-billed Magpie at Moraine Park Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park" 2022 David Knapp Photography

We had been walking slowly down the road from our campsite, learning to identify flowers and other goodies, when this flock of magpies flew in. Notorious for foraging anywhere people have been dropping things, these birds were constantly around the campground along with the jays. In other words, when getting ready to eat, we had to keep a close eye on both the little rodents (chipmunks, etc) and also the sky for potential robbers. The little one began walking slowly towards the nearest bird. Ultimately, she got much closer than I would ever have been able to before they finally flew off. It is amazing to me how wild critters seem to know that small children are not a threat. 

"Approaching a Black-billed Magpie" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

"Taking Flight" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Back at our campsite, we also enjoyed some other wild critters. These little guys were pretty bold, but not so bold as at some future campsites. Still, we had to keep a general eye on them to make sure they didn't get in our car, tent, or food.

"Chipmunk" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

"Golden Mantled Ground Squirrel" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Nap Time and Lunch

Not long after this exploring episode, light rain began to move in. Not wanting to all get chilled down and sick this early in our trip, we decided some car time might be appropriate. After driving clear across the country, this wasn't the plan little bit wanted to hear about. However, with assurances of some interesting things to see, she relented to a drive. We had some ulterior motives as it was about nap time. A longer drive seemed appropriate, so we set off up the Old Fall River Road. That was quite the experience in our small Toyota Corolla. The potholes and ruts were worse than I remembered, but of course it had been a long time ago. 

We hit fog and clouds partway up, so there were NO views to be had up high. Eventually, we made it to the top and started driving back down towards camp on Trail Ridge Road. The fog was impressive, but we were glad to have additional days ahead of us to return and enjoy the views that were absent on this day. Thankfully, light rain and fog seemed the perfect recipe to help the little one sleep. 

Eventually, we headed in to Estes Park were I wanted to enjoy some pizza that I remembered being excellent. Poppy's Pizza and Grill still had some great offerings. The hot pizza was way better than trying to picnic out in the cold rain. 

Fly Fishing the Big Thompson in Moraine Park

After a delicious lunch, we needed to figure out how to kill some time in the afternoon. One of the big treats for me on trips out west involves fishing water types that I don't have back home here in Tennessee. At the very top of my list of places to experience on these trips is meadow streams that contain brown trout. Not only do these meadow streams provide ideal habitat for one of my favorite fish, but they contain structure that is very different from our mountain streams and lowland tailwaters here in Tennessee. Undercut banks are a joy to fish, so I was hoping to hit at least two streams in Rocky Mountain National Park that contained this type of water.

Both the Big Thompson River flowing through Moraine Park and the headwaters of the Colorado River in Kawuneeche Valley offer meandering meadow sections with undercut banks. Both of these streams are chock full of wild brown trout along with the occasional brook trout among other possible species. My target is brown trout, of course. 

My preferred method to fish these streams involves looking for reaction bites from the resident trout. While my tactics are a bit unusual, the results are normally stellar. On this rainy day, I knew that my usual techniques were not necessarily perfect, but sometimes you just want to fish how you want to fish. 

As it turns out, with the weather that was moving in and out, I would have been better off with a light rod and some blue-winged olive imitations. I started off well enough, catching several fine brown trout on my unorthodox methods. However, once the bugs started, the fish really just wanted the little olives and I started wishing I had brought more flies with me. The large flies I was using still picked up the occasional fish, but I also knew I was missing a lot of fish.

"Big Thompson River in Moraine Park brown trout" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Two bend pools in particular convinced me that my methods were about through for the day. I saw the first couple of rises as I crept up towards the pool. By the time I was in position, 4-5 fish were rising steadily and my large fly briefly put them down. However, the draw of so much food soon brought them back up. They were rising amongst the splashes from my larger fly, simultaneously dodging my offerings while also feeding on the natural olives. The next pool was even crazier with 8-10 fish rising. 

"Big Thompson River in Moraine Park Meadow Stream" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

I had already fished about an hour and the rain was starting again, so I decided it was time to head back to the car. The family had been out enjoying the meadow as well, but with the rain starting, they had already started back. It was in everyone's best interest to call it on fishing this day. I had found a few great fish before the hatch really got going. Time to head on to the next adventure...

Sprague Lake Scenery and Brook Trout

With a steady drizzle setting in, we didn't want to head back to camp yet. Our only option there for staying dry was to crawl into our small tent. It was way too early in the day to do that. So we turned the car towards Sprague Lake on the Bear Lake Road. I remembered something from a previous trip I hoped would still be accurate.

When we arrived, the rain had eased off to just some very light mist. With a full winter snowsuit to put on the little one and rain coats for ourselves, we decided to brave the weather for a few minutes. I grabbed my camera, hoping my memory was accurate. 

"Foggy Day at Sprague Lake" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Sure enough. In the inlet stream to Sprague Lake were numerous large brook trout. They were there to spawn, and while I wasn't interested in targeting these fish with a fly rod, I was interested in getting some neat pictures if possible. I generally recommend leaving spawning fish alone from an angling perspective. While I won't get into all the reasons here, let's just say that a camera feels a lot more sporting. Here are a couple of the better shots I got.

©2022 David Knapp Photography

©2022 David Knapp Photography

It didn't take long for the drizzle to start again. We decided to head back to camp and get supper early. A huge benefit of our particular campsite were the thick pine trees growing over our picnic table area. They were keeping a large portion of our table dry, so we were able to enjoy supper while staying dry. With everything so damp, we headed to bed early. The next day was moving day and we needed some energy! We hoped for clear skies and moderating temperatures on the morrow...

After the Sun Goes Down

No, I'm not talking about nighttime fishing, although I have covered that topic some before and found great success fishing through the night. In this instance, I'm actually referring to the late afternoon and early evening hours on bright sunny days. As the sun sinks below hills and ridges, fish that were almost impossibly shy just minutes earlier begin to feed. 

Interestingly, this is not always consistent, but when it happens the results are striking. The difficulty of bright sunny days is exacerbated in the Smokies in particular early and late in the season. This is due to the lack of leaves on the trees. This year, we lost all of the leaves earlier than has been usual the last few seasons. Thus, we have been dealing with bright sunny days since the last week of October. Last year, I was still enjoying a reasonably decent canopy on Veteran's Day week for my annual fall camping trip. For this year's camping trip, the leaves were all down.

I drove over to the Smokies on Wednesday to camp and fish the Oconaluftee River with my buddy and fellow fly fishing guide, Pat Tully. We had a great time fishing, but the catching was slow. This isn't entirely unheard of this time of year, but the super low water from our recent drought conditions along with the sunny day was making things more difficult than usual for fall fishing. Eventually, Pat had to leave to make it back home at a reasonable hour.

Since I was spending the night at Smokemont campground, I headed over to set up camp. By the time this task was finished, the sun was beginning to sink below the hills above camp. This time of year that happens early each day. I had enjoyed a late lunch, so instead of proceeding to supper, I decided to get back on the water for another couple of hours. That proved to be a great decision.

In the first small run I fished, I had numerous strikes on a small parachute Adams. Best of all, the fish were hitting it within just a few feet of where I was standing. They weren't spooky any more. As I always like to say, fish have to eat eventually. I was about to be rewarded for hanging in there after a long tough day. 

Over the next hour or two, I caught double digit numbers of trout. Two were very nice brown trout for in the Smokies while the majority were rainbows. Often, I was catching what was probably the "best" rainbow trout in each little run and pocket. These fish would have run from their own shadow just hours before. Now, they needed to get those calories in. Winter is coming soon after all.

By the time I decided to call it an evening, I had caught more than enough fish to make up for the slow day. As I headed back to camp, I was reminded why it is worth fishing as long as possible. On some days, responsibilities back home or otherwise mean I quit before the end of legal fishing hours. In fact, it is rare that I have the luxury of fishing as long as I want. Still, it is always good to be reminded to keep after it even when I'm having a difficult day.

And isn't that what drives us on as anglers? The chance of a new superlative, be it a monster fish, a big numbers day, or maybe just an incredibly unique experience on the water. Perhaps a particular hatch keeps bringing you back or even a particular fish. 

I have a brown trout on Little River that I've been keeping tabs on for about a month now. It is built like a torpedo. A super fat torpedo. I'm still not certain it would break 20", but it will be extremely heavy for its size if I can ever get my hands on it, that I'm convinced of. When I go after it again, I'll stay out as long as possible, hopefully after the sun goes down behind the nearby ridge...

Light and Dark: Thinking About Light On Your Trout Pictures

Recently, I was with a friend/client of mine on a guided trip and we landed a rather respectable Smoky Mountain brown trout. It didn't take much prodding on my part to get him to take a picture, so we got things set up. After snapping a couple of him, we then switched to just pictures of the fish. 

I was facing one way and snapped a few in my hand in the water. Upon glancing at the screen of my phone that I was taking pictures with, I noticed how incredibly dark the fish looked. The light just wasn't what I wanted to show this beauty off. So, instead of considering it a lost cause, I simply turned around. The morning sun was reflecting off of the bank behind us and by turning around, I was able to take advantage of this better quality light. 

Here are the two unedited versions of this same fish. 

While the angles are slightly different, I can assure you these are the same exact fish, taken just seconds apart. You can see the reflection of the darkly shaded bank behind us in the second picture, while the first picture is strongly backlit by the sunny bank beyond, making the fish appear extremely dark. 

So, to make this short and to the point, consider light sources as you set up your fish pictures. This can be a quick scan of the scene or even glance at the camera or phone screen. Either way, light will make or break your photos, so take advantage of what it offers. 

Furthermore, if you are the one operating the camera for a friend, check the light in the viewfinder or on the screen. I often ask clients to tilt a fishes back or belly towards me, and it is all about getting the light correct. I'll do a separate post sometime on this potential light issue to explain better, but for now, consider what the fish looks like to you and then work to get the camera to interpret it the same way. 

Stealth in Fly Fishing is Inversely Proportional to Water Levels

I'll try to keep this one short and sweet along with a quick illustration of the idea. For the mathematicians, the statement should be fairly obvious. For everyone else who forgot what inverse or proportion means, here is my point: fish are much easier to catch and usually don't act as intelligent when water is higher. In other words, high water means you need less stealth. Low water means spookier fish and the need for more stealth in your fly fishing. 

For anyone who has tried fly fishing in the Smokies during the low water of late summer or fall, you know how cautious those fish can become. I've joked about fish running from their own shadow, and I'm only half kidding. A couple of weeks back, I had a guided trip that perfectly illustrated this point. 

We were fishing on Little River, known for big but hard to catch brown trout, my favorite combination. During the spring hatches, some of the larger fish can lose their caution when big bugs are on the water. We had already caught a quality wild rainbow trout and just caught a very respectable brown trout in the 13-14ish inch range on dry flies. On any normal day in the Smokies, these would be worth a celebration. 

Jason with a great dry fly brown trout on Little River. ©2022 David Knapp

Still, I knew there should be a larger fish in those pool. I was carrying a second rod for Jason and suggested that he run the nymph setup through the pool a few times. He had fished the pool rather thoroughly with the dry fly, and I figured something else had to bite. 

He started casting and high sticking the pheasant tail nymph through the pool. On just the third or fourth cast, the sighter in his leader stopped and he set the hook. A big commotion immediately commenced as a large brown trout realized it was hooked. There were several times I was certain that the fish had us whipped. Yet, Jason stayed cool, calm, and collected through the fight and eventually worked the fish back to us for me to slip the net under. This fish taped out at 21 inches and is easily one of the best fish I'll have anyone catch in the Smokies this year if not the best. It was all made possible because of higher water flows.

Jason's trophy Little River brown trout in the Smokies. ©2022 David Knapp

The crazy thing about this fish is where it had been sitting. He hooked it one rod length from where we had been standing, casting, splashing around, and even dragging hooked fish over on their way to the waiting net. During the vast majority of the year, any self respecting Great Smoky Mountains brown trout would have spooked long ago. This fish was tolerant, however, because we had much higher than usual water. Flows on this day were between 550 and 600 cubic feet per second (cfs) on the Townsend Little River USGS gauge. Anyone who has fished Little River knows that is considered the high side of good. However, with a little work, we were able to fish just fine and even make some incredible memories for a lucky angler. 

That is why I enjoy fishing higher flows in the Smokies. Those larger brown trout are more likely to come out to play. Low water presents its own opportunities, but they always include spooky and much more challenging trout than the ones we encountered on this March day. 

Stay With It

Every year, I take a fishing trip in early to mid November. That trip is usually to the Smokies, and I usually end up camping for at least a couple of nights. This year, I decided to head to Smokemont Campground near Cherokee, NC. A couple of friends were planning on joining, either for both the camping and fishing, or at least for a day of fishing. 

The camping trip was a big success. A good rain the last night meant I was packing up wet gear the Friday morning I left. That slowed me down slightly, but still I was out of camp by a good time and headed to the first of a couple of destinations for that final few hours of fishing. Deep Creek is one of my favorites, probably because something good always seems to happen when I fish there. Nowadays, it seems quite crowded, yet the allure of a stream that has produced so many nice brown trout for me over the years keeps calling me back.

My buddy John was with me who also happened to be along when I caught the big brown trout I had been hunting for over a year. On that occasion, he just happened to have a GoPro with him and captured the whole thing. What a special treat. On this trip, I brought along a GoPro myself and was soon reminded of the importance of really dedicating to the process if I'm going to try and film. 

We had cut through the woods into a semi remote stretch of water where I knew there was a good pool or two. I was rigged and ready with a Tellico Nymph and a small caddis pupa and a euro style sighter. I've been using sighters when high sticking at least half of the time and almost always when I'm trying to teach someone such as on a guide trip. There are some obvious limitations to the use of a sighter section, but also a lot of positives as well. Anyway, I had this rig and started working up through the run. 

I didn't have a lot of expectations. A cold front had moved through during the night and the water temperatures were on the downhill slide. This time of year, water temperature direction seems to be a lot more important than the actual number. I would take 40 degree water after several days in the 30s, but don't want to see 48 degree water after several days in the 50s.

A couple of bumps encouraged me that this might turn out to be a decent day after all. Some small rainbows were messing with the caddis pupa but not quite getting hooked. Finally, I made a longer cast up the far seam. The flies bumped slowly along the bottom of a ledge as they dropped towards deeper water. One of the subtle pauses lasted a fraction of a second longer than the others had been. I raised the rod tip a bit and met slight resistance. Lifting even further, I finally went into the hook set that should have been my first move. Sure enough, the weight of the ledge turned into the weight of a fish after all as the nice little brown started bulldogging. This was another variation on the theme of never giving up on a possible fish. You have to stay with it, and in this case, I did. The fish was my reward for not giving up. 

The funny thing here is that I was really certain I was stuck on the ledge. Never mind that this was a great brown trout spot with softer water on the edge of a seam over bedrock. I thankfully didn't give up though and the fish hung on just long enough for me to turn it into a hook set. Most days, the fish in the Smokies are too quick and don't give you time for half hearted hook sets though. The real lesson is that you need to set on everything. This is something I preach every day as a guide, and yet here I was relearning the lesson for umpteenth (or billionth) time. This is something I see over and over again as a guide. Whether it is high sticking/tight lining/euro nymphing, or indicator nymphing, or even fishing with a dry dropper, people are quick to write off small jiggles and ticks as "just the bottom" or "just a rock" or, well, you get the idea. When you are nymphing, if there is any glimmer of doubt in your mind that a fish might be eating, set the hook. 

The only bad thing about this fish is that I didn't have the GoPro rolling. Yep, I went to the effort of bringing it with me, but didn't use it nearly enough. The best fish of the day wasn't captured on video because I thought I was just warming up. If you are going to start filming your adventures, my advice is to film everything. You never know when the fish of the day might strike.

Thankfully, the rest of the day had me dialed in just a little better. Soon I was catching some more fish, setting on every slight hesitation. The rainbows and browns were coming willingly, just often enough to keep me focused and engaged. Too much time between fish tends to lull the angler to sleep, but steady action keeps one's reflexes ready to strike.

As we go into the winter season, this lesson is even more important to learn. Trout tend to move slower and more deliberately in cold water. Often, you may not see much indication that the fish has taken the fly, but find an excuse to set the hook every single drift. You'll be amazed at how many of those turn into fish...

When You Just Need More Weight

As a fly fishing guide, there are lots of little tips and tricks I get to pass on to my clients. It would be nearly impossible to compile those into one resource unfortunately. Okay, so maybe not impossible, but it would take me a while to think about it while I'm sitting at home writing. Most of these things have a way of coming up during the natural flow of a day on the water. That is what guides should do, offer advice on how to improve, or at least on different ways to do things. A guided trip should be as much a chance to improve as an angler as it is a chance to catch lots of fish. Those two things generally go hand in hand. 

Anyway, these little tips often come up in the natural flow of a guided trip. One that comes up quite often is the idea of getting your flies down to the fish. One of my favorite guiding moments happens when teaching nymphing strategies, either for the Nymphing Class at Little River Outfitters, or just on a regular guided trip. What usually happens is something like this. 

We are fishing nymphs, either under a strike indicator or high sticking (tight lining/euro nymphing) and not catching any fish. At some point, I suggest that we add some split shot. Sometimes there is even already some shot on the line. However, it sometimes just isn't enough. The split shot needs to be heavy enough to get the flies down. Depending on stream flow, depth, flies used, and technique, you might need anywhere from one #8 split shot to a string of #1 or even heavier shot. Sometimes just one addition works. Other times it can take two or three. Either way, the best part happens when the first cast is made after the correct amount of shot is added. Almost invariably, the angler will catch a fish. That is a much more effective lesson than simply telling someone they should add more shot if they aren't catching fish. 

Of course, if you add too much shot, you'll be hanging on the bottom continually. Thus, a good rule of thumb is to add shot until you're constantly hanging the bottom. Then, take one off and you should be about right. You want to be ticking the bottom some but not losing flies.

The funny thing about tips and tricks is that sometimes you have to remind yourself about them. Yesterday, after a morning guided trip, I had a little time to kill before heading back home. Last week, on a guided trip, I had come across a couple of nice brown trout that seemed willing to eat dry flies. In fact, we missed one of them on a dry fly that day. I had been wanting to see those fish up close and had already devoted one quick stop to try and catch one to no avail. Yesterday seemed like a good opportunity. 

I got to the chosen spot and waded right in. Drifting a dry fly through the run produced exactly zero takes, so I changed tactics and tied on a nymph rig involving a small pheasant tail nymph and a small hare's ear nymph on 6x tippet. To this, I added two #4 split shot. For the depth and current, that seemed about right since I had small flies and fine tippet. A New Zealand Indicator finished the rig. 

For the next five minutes, I got many drifts through what I thought was the sweet spot. There were exactly zero strikes. Knowing how many fish this pool typically contains, I was a bit shocked. Surely something would want to eat my nymphs! I was just about to give up when it occurred to me that I might not be as deep as I had assumed. Deciding to get to the bottom of things so to speak, I added a #1 shot and now felt confident of getting down. 

On the very next cast, I had a quick hit from an eight inch rainbow that just as quickly released itself. That was enough, however, to convince me to try another five minutes of casts. In fact, it only took about three more casts before the indicator dove convincingly yet again. This time, I could tell there was some heft to the fish. In fact, it didn't want to move where I wanted it to at all!

Babying the 6x tippet, I took plenty of time fighting this beautiful brown trout. Every time I thought it was about whipped, it surged back into the depths. Finally, after a couple of downstream runs that prompted me to follow, I got it close and with the head up, quickly scooped with my net. 

This was probably one of the larger brown trout I will catch this year in the Smokies, possibly even the largest. I've had plenty of years where this would be my best Great Smoky Mountain brown trout. Not bad for fifteen minutes or so of fishing and just about as much time fiddling with my rigging. Sometimes you just need more weight. I shouldn't be surprised anymore, but for some reason this lesson always gets me. Anyway, next time you aren't finding success with nymphs, try adding some weight. You just might be surprised...

A Quick Getaway

Fishing trips are few and far between these days, at least the kind where I get to hold the fly rod and do the catching. One amazing perk of life as a fly fishing guide is getting to be on the water every day. However, your own personal fishing time usually suffers. This year, I'll fish even less than usual since we have a little one on the way. Last week, I enjoyed what will probably be the last overnight fishing trip until fall at the earliest. It was a much needed getaway to get me excited about the guide season that is now in full swing. 

Spring Hatches

The first hatches of spring have commenced. Quill gordon and blue quill mayflies are hatching well most days and provided excellent dry fly fishing on the Oconaluftee River. On the first day, in particular, my friend and fellow guide Pat Tully and I took our time seeking out risers in the afternoon. The hatch was a bit slow to get started with very cool overnight temperatures. Once it started though, we found rising trout the rest of the day until quitting for the evening. 

Blue quills have the edge in numbers, but where quill gordon mayflies hatch in enough numbers, the trout get excited about them. That said, we caught a lot more rising trout that we targeted with smaller patterns instead of larger. In addition to the mayflies, we are seeing good numbers of early brown stoneflies, little black stoneflies, and little black caddis. Midges hatch prolifically every day as well.

Fishing the Oconaluftee

I enjoyed this river all three days, but really focused on it the first and last day of my trip. The surprising part of the trip was how poorly certain sections fished. That is typical of early season fishing, however, and probably has a lot to do with the fact that the wild rainbows are largely busy spawning right now. Thankfully, the brown trout were looking up by afternoon every day and we caught enough to keep busy. Here are a couple of pictures from my time on the Oconaluftee. 

Fishing Noland Creek

One thing I have become much more intentional about the last few years is trying new and different things. That is how I stay interested and enjoy fly fishing even while my career means I'm on the water every day. This has been a huge benefit to me over the last few years. I've got to explore more and further, and fishing new water is always a blast. 

On this trip, I was debating fishing Deep Creek which is a long time personal favorite. When it came time to head over there, I even stopped by the parking area at the trailhead. However, I decided to continue my policy of trying new places to fish at least once per trip. This led me on a short drive down the Road to Nowhere to fish Noland Creek. 

Now, this wasn't the first time I've fished Noland Creek. I had fished there before, but always down towards Fontana Lake. I've caught some nice fish down that way as well as seeing some big bear tracks along the lake shore. Anyway, this trip would be my first time venturing upstream from the Road to Nowhere.

When I got to the parking lot, I took my time rigging up. No one else was there, so I didn't need to rush to find that perfect place to fish. After checking and double checking to make sure I had packed my light lunch, I headed down the trail. It really didn't take too long before I just couldn't help it anymore and had to duck in and start fishing. This is one of the prettiest streams and was just the perfect size to fish. The fish were not large, but they were willing for the most part. Here is one of the larger rainbows. Notice all the spots. 

Over the next few hours, I caught and released 30 or more wild rainbow trout. Supposedly there are some brown trout in Noland Creek as well, but I never found any. The rainbows were absolutely stunning. Since we are right around the spawn, they are colored up about as well as you'll ever find them. This one had fewer spots but a stunning red stripe.

One rainbow even had some "cutthroat" markings that suggested something other than pure rainbow trout in its lineage. You see that on most Smokies streams from time to time. Way back in the day, hatcheries were sending all types of trout all over the place. Official stocking records don't ever show cutthroat being stocked in the Smokies, but some of the fish certainly appear to have a few cutthroat trout genes. This fish looked a lot like cutthroat and had almost no spotting but had the red slash under the jaw like a cuttbow.

The fishing was fairly simple, with a Parachute Adams or Pheasant Tail nymph doing most of the damage. While I caught good numbers overall, I still had to work just a little. By the time I fished, ate some lunch, and caught a few more fish, I was getting tired. I decided to walk out before it got too late. Surprisingly, there were several cars in the parking area with at least a few people now fishing close to the road. Still, this seems to be a generally underutilized stream overall. 

A Good Trip

Overall, this was an excellent trip and a nice quick escape before I'm slammed with guide trips. I'll probably end up with one or two more days to fish if I choose to do so this spring, otherwise I'll be busy for a good long while before I get out to fish again. 

Instead of fishing, I'll be thinking about past and future fishing trips. Coming up soon, I'll try to share the next installment from our Glacier trip. The last full day in Glacier is next, then it is on to the fishing part of the trip!

When the Fish Are Where They Should Be

A big part of guiding is knowing where to find fish. Of course, it also helps to know what those fish will eat once you find them. However, if you can't find fish, then it won't do you any good to have the right flies. Some days are easier than others, of course. On those days, the fish are where they should be. You know what I mean. Those obvious spots that hold fish more often than not are popular with lots of anglers for a good reason. Sometimes, those spots aren't quite as obvious. Nevertheless, if you know the water well, the fish are still where they should be. 

Yesterday, I was able to get out and fish a river that I haven't been on as much as I would like lately. This lack of fishing is mostly because I've been busy with non fishing things. This is the time of year that I'm able to catch up on things that get neglected through a long and busy guiding season after all. Still, it was good to get out and the weather was about as pleasant as you can ask for this time of year.

My buddy John came along to fish and help rowing a little. We started while the generators were still running. John wanted to try his streamer setup with some newly tied streamers. Those proved enticing to some skipjack but at this point, the trout eluded us. As soon as the water cut off, we started slowly drifting down the river with what we thought were the right flies fished in the right places. And we drifted, and drifted, and so on and so forth. Fish were occasionally rising so we knew there were some around. We weren't sure how many, but some fish is better than no fish. Amazingly, we were much farther down than we had wanted to be without a bite and it was time to change. I suggested a possible fly I was considering, and John said he was thinking the same thing.

I anchored for a minute while he changed his rig and then started drifting again. Not too far down the river, we were coming into a run that has historically held plenty of fish but has been slow the last few years. I positioned the boat and suggested he switch to the right side of the boat. A short drift later, his indicator went down and we were into our first trout of the day. When he almost immediately got another bite in the same spot, I started thinking that I should probably change flies as well. 

By the time we got to the next big run, I had switched up flies as well. With the boat in the perfect spot, I decided to anchor for a bit so we could both fish. The wind was blowing strong so we had to work a little at casting and mending. Once the drift was started, we could extend it by throwing more line into the drift with the rod tip. Keeping just enough slack is tricky in this situation. If you get too much, then setting the hook is nearly impossible. Not enough and you'll end up with immediate drag. 

Finally, after several solid drifts, my indicator shot under and when I set the hook, I knew it wasn't a little stocker rainbow. After a strong fight, a healthy brown trout can to hand in the 14 inch range. I took a couple of closeups because the fish had incredible blue spotting behind the eye. After a few more drifts without another bite, I pulled the anchor and we started down the river. A few bites came as we moved through the tailout of the pool, and then we moved on down to the next spot.

The next little run was where things started to look predictable. I again maneuvered the boat into position and suggested John try a spot to our left. After a short drift, just when I was thinking that maybe there weren't fish there, the indicator shot down. We quickly netted the rainbow and on the very next cast, he had another bite. The fish were where they should be.

That pattern then continued on down the river. In fact, several of his fish came after I said something like, "You should have a hit any second." Those are the sorts of things guides love. This wasn't a paid trip, of course, but it always gives you confidence. Clients always think you're a magician when you predict bites a second before it happens. There really is no magic here, though. The fish are simply where they should be.

To learn where the fish should be, it is necessary that you spend a ridiculous amount of time on the water. This knowledge is not something that happens overnight. Often, these things can change year by year. Yesterday, I was noticing how much the river has changed over the last few months and also how it is similar to the usual river we all know and enjoy. Features change, fish move, but they also are where you would expect.

The best fish of the day was near the end of a stretch that had produced a few fish already. We were nearing the end of one of the better pools. I suggested to John to get a little closer to the far bank. He dropped his fly into position. The mend set up the right drift and soon the indicator was diving. When he set the hook, the fish seemed a little more solid. It came mostly right to the boat though. When he lifted its head, the fish saw the boat and went ballistic. We came close to losing this beauty in the resulting fight, but somehow everything held. We had to pull over for a quick picture of this fish before heading on down the river towards the takeout ramp.

Great Smoky Mountain Brown Trout Extravaganza

Recently, I posted about fishing for post spawn Smoky Mountain brown trout. The first fish of the day was a good one, but as I alluded to in my previous post, this wasn't the end of the day. In fact, it was just the beginning of one of the best days of fishing I've ever had in the Smokies. As you know if you've followed this blog for any length of time, brown trout are right up there with my favorite fish to target, whether its on the fly or otherwise. I also have a real soft spot for brook trout, but in the winter, my thoughts turn to brown trout. 

December through February has always been exceptionally kind to me when it comes to brown trout. I've caught my largest brown trout during those months and also had my largest Smoky Mountain brown trout caught in that time frame. The low sun angle means lower light, and I prefer to target cloudy days to further enhance that benefit. Rainy or snowy days are best, but are also an exercise in persistence and perseverance. Fishing in cold rain is not for everyone, and on some days I don't last very long, but the results are hard to argue with. 

A few years back, my wife and I took a trip to Yellowstone National Park. Of course, fishing was a part of the trip along with hiking, photography, and general sight seeing. One thing I did in particular was to make time to fish with my friend Bryan Allison to learn some new techniques that would help me become a more well rounded angler and guide. Bryan is an excellent guide covering a variety of waters in Montana and offering some unique trip options that are difficult to find. You can visit his site here. 

On our trip, I wanted specifically to work on some trout jigging techniques that he has mastered and are deadly on trout in a variety of waters. Fast forward to now, and you'll find me with a couple of very nice ultralight spinning rods loaded with 4 pound test that rarely if ever see any action. I bought them to be able to offer the option on guided trips, and occasionally mess around with them, but in general I prefer catching fish on a fly rod. 

On my recent trip to the Smokies, after catching such a nice brown trout very early in the day on my fly rod, I decided to experiment with the things I had learned from Bryan. My day was already made with that quality brown, so it was time to practice some different techniques. One thing he had taught me was how to use marabou jigs. I figured that was as good of a thing to try as any, so I quickly tied one on and started working it carefully. One huge bonus of using the spinning rod is that you can mostly stay out of the water. That is probably the biggest reason that I try this method more in the winter than at any other time of the year. On really cold days, it keeps me up on the bank, and hopefully away from potential swimming events. 

It wouldn't take very long to get things going with the marabou jig. Shortly after nailing my first fish on the fly rod, a golden flash blew up my jig and I was fighting another quality fish. And another, and another, and..........well, you get the idea. The fish were keyed in and ready to chase. Every once in a while the stars align and everything comes together for a great day of catching. Of course, every day is a great day of fishing, but the two aren't always synonymous with each other.

 

This was really an ideal day to streamer fish, because you want to hit it when the fish are fired up. However, with the falling temperatures and snow starting to fall, I just decided to stick with the trout jigging and stay out of the water as much as possible. The spinning rod was a good way to mostly keep my hands warmer as well. Since I wasn't handling the fly line every cast, I wasn't getting my hands as wet which translated to warmer hands. I still got them plenty wet often enough though. Some quick fish pictures seemed like a good idea to help me remember the epic day that was developing. One other benefit to staying out of the water is that you aren't endangering the redds with their precious cargo of brown trout eggs. Remember to avoid walking in sand and gravel areas in the tailouts of runs and pools. Fish often spawn in these areas and those eggs won't hatch for at least another month most likely. 

After that first stop which produced three or four quality brown trout, I moved on up the river. In almost every spot I stopped I found fish. Interestingly, they were all falling into one of three size categories. I've been discussing the lack of truly large fish with my friends lately. Little River seems to be in between big fish cycles. As with most things in nature, numbers of giant brown trout seems to be rather cyclical. Right now, we appear to be on the downside of a cycle. I've seen good numbers of fish up to 18 inches or so, with a few fish pushing on to the 22-23 inch range, but some of the giants of past years don't seem as plentiful. Quite a few of my friends have noticed a similar trend. 

On this particular day, I was catching a lot of fish in the 10-17 inch range. The big fish just seemed completely missing in action. When the fishing catching is this good, you normally expect to at least see a few larger trout. I decided to double down and really work some areas that historically hold large brown trout. Yet, it continued to be the same story. Plenty of fish, but no monsters.

I was working up one favorite run and had already caught some fish. In fact, I had some nice browns fighting over my offering at one point. It was just one of those days. Working on up past where I normally see the larger fish, I decided to work on up to the head. This time of year, the fish tend to stay farther back in pools, but it was worth a shot. 

As I crept along, I spotted a brown laying on the bottom just upstream. I managed a decent cast and bounced the jig past the fish. Once, twice, three times, it was still as a statue. Suspecting that the fish already knew I was there, I threw one more cast well upstream and began a slow retrieve back past the fish. That was just too much. The fish bolted upstream and out of sight. At no more than a foot long, it wasn't a big fish, but I hate spooking fish ahead of me as they usually alert everything else to my presence. I almost gave up and turned around right there, but something drove me on. 

Maneuvering carefully into position, I cast almost straight across. I got one good bounce with the rod tip and something heavy slammed the jig on the drop. Immediately worried about the 4 pound test line, I hoped my knots were good. The drag was set just loose enough while the flex of the ultralight rod absorbed the head shakes. Soon, I slid a gorgeous post spawn female brown into the waiting net. She just about filled up my big Brodin net and pushed the tape to right at 20 inches. 

She was lean after the spawn and clearly needed some good meals before winter really set in. I was careful to keep her in the water except for a couple of seconds for a couple of quick pictures. The big net is really handy for these moments. You can rest the fish in the water in between shots, and not risk keeping them out of their element for more than 3-4 seconds at a time. Careful catch and release methods are essential to the preservation of these fisheries as fishing pressure continues to increase every year. If you can't accomplish this, then you should probably avoid fishing for these fish. 

The good news about all of these fish is that they can also be caught on a fly rod if you don't want to use a spinning rod. In fact, much of the year, a fly rod is a better tool. However, if you are looking for a way to fish in the winter without getting too wet, then give trout jigging a try. Whether you are fishing in the Smokies or on the Clinch or Caney Fork, this technique works. 

Post Spawn Smoky Mountain Brown Trout

The fall brown trout spawn has recently wrapped up for another year. Things seemed a bit later than usual, although there were fish spawning by the first or second week of November. This is a time of year to use extra care while wading and fishing. Spawning fish should be allowed to do their thing in peace. After the fact, it is essential that anglers avoid wading on the redds. Doing so will crush the eggs that were deposited there and severely impact the next generation. They already have enough challenges in reproducing. 

After the spawn is over, the fish feed heavily as we move into the winter months. The fish are trying to regain body mass after the rigors of spawning. This can be some of the most exciting fishing of the year but also perhaps some of the most miserable. That is because the weather often leaves a lot to be desired.

Last week, I had a free day and decided to go fishing for myself. The day started out perfectly and just got better from there. The sky was threatening snow, and snow days have been some incredible producers for me in the past. The temperature started in the low 40s and fell throughout the day. 

The first caught fish of the day was one I spotted on my second or third stop. I was looking as much as fishing at this point. However, when I noticed a hefty brown trout holding near the back of a quality run, I couldn't resist fishing. 

I had been walking and looking without a rod. This is a sure way to guarantee that you actually spend time looking, not fishing. After spotting the fish, I took the time to walk back to the car and rig up appropriately. A big black wooly bugger seemed like the right idea, and I added a worm as a dropper. Winter fish really like both of those flies for whatever reason. 

Back on the water, I took a minute to find my fish again. Sure enough, it was still hanging out in the same general area. I noticed that it ate something drifting by and started to feel the excitement surge. This was a feeding fish and feeding fish are catchable fish. Clambering down the bank took some doing. I dealt with a bum ankle for part of November and wasn't interested in aggravating the high ankle sprain again. Thankfully, each step on the slick leaves held, and I was soon standing on the stream bank. Sneaking upstream along the bank, I reached the point where I would begin my stalk. 

The fish was sitting in a nearly perfect spot, not too far above a large mid stream boulder. Cover like this can make or break a stalk of a big brown. In my case, the fish never knew I was coming because of the ability to sneak in behind the rock. Once I arrived in position, it was time to actually execute. This is NOT the moment to rush. Do everything right, and you catch the fish. It is that simple most of the time. Rushing is probably the quickest way I know to blow a good fish. I've done it many times in fact...

My leader was quite long, enabling me to keep the fish from seeing the fly line. I was using a 10' 3 weight Orvis Recon. The extra reach was going to be critical to keeping the leader and line from getting pulled through the riffle below the run before the fish had time to find the flies. Working out the leader and then some line, I false cast a couple of times to judge the distance. Then I slung all the flies in the riffle below me. I like to water load these casts. It helps to guarantee where the flies are going on the presentation cast. 

Taking a deep breath, I knew that it was time. I quickly made a casting stroke under some low hanging branches and the flies landed a few feet upstream of the fish. My flies were perfectly visible in the clear water. I watched as the brown trout slid to his left and ate the wooly bugger. With just a slight hesitation to let him close his mouth, I gave a strong hookset and couldn't believe when the fly stuck. Some days you just get lucky. I'm always leery of first cast fish, but if they are this quality, then I'm glad to get skunked the rest of the day. On this day, however, things would only get better...

The fight was relatively quick. The flex in the 10' rod allowed me to push the fish hard on the 4x tippet. In what seemed like no time, I had the fish in the net and ready for a couple of pictures. The main reason I carry a large net is to keep fish healthy in between pictures, and I wasn't taking chances with such a gorgeous brown trout. Just a quick lift and snap, and I had the memory. 

While I didn't know it at the time, this would be the first of many fine brown trout on the day. More about that next time... In that moment, though, I just sat down on the bank and took it all in. Big brown trout are always a treat and this one was a beauty. 

Flipping A Switch

There is never a dull moment when you are fishing as long as you approach each trip with a learning mindset. Some days the action is fast and furious. Often, I'll stick with what is working and simply try to catch as many fish as I can. Other times, I'll start experimenting. When the fishing is good is a great time to find out what will and also what won't work. Of course, when the fishing gets tough, you find out what truly works. Magic flies or techniques are few and far between, so most people keep them close under their hat when they discover such a thing.

Many days of fishing progress predictably with hot and cold stretches as fish shift through their daily cycle. This cycle changes month to month, season to season. In fact, it often changes from day to day.

The average day in the mountains depends a lot on the time of year. For example, during the summer, the best fishing is often early and late in the day with the fish taking a break during the hotter hours of midday. The bright sun overhead probably doesn't help either. In the cool of morning, both trout and the bugs they feed on are active. During the spring, the best fishing is often in the middle of the day. Additional factors can often wreak havoc on these norms, however.

Last week, on a guided fly fishing trip in the Great Smoky Mountains, we were reminded about the natural rhythm and how sensitive it often is. Our day started with mostly sunny skies. Occasional clouds did not stick around long. The bright sunlight allowed the water temperature to begin climbing. This time of year, that almost guarantees bugs. Fish moved up into the faster riffles and heads of pools as they fed on nymphs that were rapidly preparing to hatch. By around 11:00 am, some adults were beginning to hatch and fish responded enthusiastically.

About that same time, the wind started to pick up and the sky filled with clouds. Around 12:30 pm, the wind shifted rapidly and temperatures started to plummet. What had been a promising hatch dried up entirely by 1:30 pm with the last fish taken on a dry fly at about 1:15 pm. The abrupt change in water temperature made all the difference in the world. It was like flipping a switch. One minute we were casting to risers and the next our day was effectively over.

If the water temperature had kept rising, in other words, if the cold front didn't pass, the clouds in and of themselves were not an issue. In fact, some of my best spring dry fly fishing happens on lousy weather days with clouds or even rain. That said, once a cold front passes and the water temperatures start dropping, bugs usually shut down along with the fish, although not always.

That "not always" is what keeps it interesting. Blue winged olives come to mind as a bug that loves lousy weather days. Interestingly, a big cold front early in the fall can have the opposite effect, setting off a feeding frenzy.

Sometimes, the switch gets flipped but it is more like a gradually dying campfire flicker instead of a lightbulb going off. One of my best days ever fishing in the Park was in May quite a few years ago. I had hiked in a long ways, earning myself solitude and good fishing in the process. The rainbows, browns, and even a brook trout or two were greedy. By the end of the day, I had caught 70 trout, all on dry flies. By the end of the day, I was probably working a little too hard, wanting to hit that nice round number. Regardless, things just sort of slowed down. I remember getting hung up on several numbers, 65 for example was hard to get past. That said, the fishing slowed down and finally quit. Number 70 almost didn't happen, but one suicidal brook trout just couldn't help itself.

That was a strange day, not bad, just strange. It was the day I knew it was going to be good fishing. That may not seem too odd, but I also knew I was going to see a bear. Up until then, I had never seen one while fishing. It happened too. Go check out the full story via the link above.

On the very best days, it seems you can do no wrong as an angler. Those days are rare, however, and should be full savored when they do happen to come around. The rest of the time, be prepared for that switch too flip. It could go from poor fishing to excellent, or it could be the other way. Whatever happens though, don't stop learning...