The Trout Zone: Fly Fishing

Showing posts with label Fly Fishing. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

Remote Floats

Fishing new water is always exciting. Whether wading or floating, seeing a piece of water for the first time is a treat that shouldn't be taken lightly. After all, given enough time, an angler can exhaust most of their local options for seeing new water. It takes a while, but eventually you realize that you've seen most of the places there are to fish in your neck of the woods.

For me, there are some rivers that I've seen almost every fishable inch, and others that I can honestly say I've fished, but definitely wouldn't say I've got them dialed in yet. That only comes with repetition, more for some people than others, but still requires a decent number of fishing trips. I'm fortunate that I'm blessed with a memory for water. Take me to a stream one time, and I've got a pretty good idea about fishing it in the future.

On new to me water, the lack of any pre knowledge makes for an exciting day. The constant discovery process is invigorating. Recently, I got to do just that on two separate occasions. The more recent was a backpacking trip in the Smokies that I'll get to in another post. The other occasion was what seems ages ago, but was really not even a month and a half ago. My good friend and fellow fly fishing guide and smallmouth guru Chris Bean was up for an adventure and had the perfect boat for scouting remote smallmouth water. I had some insight on a put-in and take-out option, and a plan was hatched.

We met at the take-out, then drove up to the sketchy boat launch well upriver. The more I hang out with these smallmouth guys, the more I realize that the term "boat launch" is a pretty loose concept. Regardless, we got the raft in the water, and started working our way down the river.

Early mornings on a smallmouth stream in Tennessee

Things were slower than either of us liked, but we were catching some fish. For this trip, catching fish was really just the icing on the cake. More than anything, it was about a remote float on a new to each of us piece of water. We did both have opportunities and also both caught some nice fish. We both lost fish that would likely have been a new personal best, but things slowed down by mid morning. It all made sense when Chris took a water temp and we discovered it was in the mid 80s. Those summer heat waves are hard on anglers and fish and this day was no exception.

A fine Tennessee smallmouth bass for guide David Knapp

We should have seen it coming. The heat had been building all day. In fact, when we finally had to jump out of the boat after bumping through countless riffles without getting hung up, it was almost a relief. The water, although hot, was better than the air temperature at that point. Of course, heat leads to instability, and instability leads to thundershowers.

By the time we were clearing the last significant riffle and jumped back in the boat, the sky was turning darker. I don't mind fishing in the rain. I do it more than I really like thanks to my job as a fly fishing guide. Oddly enough I've morphed into a fair weather angler, all the more strange because I still love a good rainy day, but the one place I always draw the line is with lightning.

I was keeping a close eye on the storm via a radar app on my phone. It was clearly bearing down on us and doubtful if we were going to stay dry. It hadn't been thundering too much until it got close. Then things got interesting in a hurry. When lightning started hitting the ridge just above us, it was time to pull over. I jumped out on a huge flat rock ledge and we told stories for a while. A glance up river suggested the heaviest rain hadn't even started yet.

Eventually, the storm eased on past and the lightning moved on to our south. The thunder got softer and softer until we felt quite safe getting back out on the water. Hopeful that the cooldown would send the fish into a feeding frenzy, we started fishing hard the last bit of our day.

Chris rolled a big bass or two on a streamer, but I was starting to wind down. I've noticed that I don't fish as hard as I used to most of the time. Knowing when to quit is almost as important as going in the first place. Happy to row while Chris fished, I guided the boat slowly downstream as the rain receded into the distance. The late day feeding frenzy didn't seem likely and we both were needing to get home at a reasonable hour.

The rest of our trip was anticlimactic, running the shuttle, pulling the boat out, essential tasks like that. We were both already plotting a return, however. New water won't become old hat without at least a few visits. Both of us left wanting to return and dial things in a little better. We agreed that a little more flow would be nice, however.

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.

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.

Sunday, September 15, 2024

The Wyoming Saga: A Bonus Fly Fishing the North Platte River

Most fly fishing trips have at minimum a general itinerary. If there are guided trips involved, then it is likely a very specific itinerary out of necessity. As a long time fly fishing guide myself, I know how busy guides get, and there is no room for last minute schedule adjustments for most trips even if conditions aren't optimal. That's one thing that makes guides good at what they do if they stay in the business: they have learned to put fish in the net no matter the conditions.

Since our Wyoming trip was completely self guided, we had more flexibility. So, when the first phase of our trip was cut short, we had more wiggle room than anticipated. That ended up being the best decision we made the entire trip for so many reasons. The top two reasons being the incredible winds that would have been miserable to fight all day at high altitude, and the epic experience we had on the famed North Platte River.

Planning a North Platte Fly Fishing Trip

Most things I do in life are researched far too much. Every little facet is explored. This extends to most of my fishing excursions. Since we weren't planning to fish the North Platte River originally, there wasn't time for a thorough study of the fishing situation. So, after packing camp quickly on a cool frosty morning, we drove into town where we enjoyed yet another great breakfast (seriously, we ate there several times and it was excellent every time) at the Heart and Soul Cafe.

Over breakfast, we were both glued to our cellphones more than usual. I was catching up on business each time I had cell signal, but this time we were both researching the North Platte. I was leaning towards heading to the Miracle Mile if for no other reason than I had always wanted to see it and we were close by. The Grey Reef section was another I had heard plenty about, but was mostly boat fishing with limited wade access. I was close to convincing John when he came across some info on an overlooked little tailwater section of the river. It had the added benefit of being a little closer to a good route out of the state (i.e., less gravel road driving). After some debate back and forth, we decided to hit the less famous section. Little did we know what was ahead of us.

Camping Near the North Platte River

There are lots of places to camp near the North Platte River. This particular little tailwater we wanted to fish had a place to camp just upstream on the reservoir above. We hoped it would have some open sites. We needn't have worried. There were very few people around when we arrived.

On the way, I had done a bit more research. Apparently the section we were heading to had a nice meadow section where we would likely spend most of our time along with a wild and rugged canyon section just below. The canyon was notorious for rattlesnakes and mostly best left to rock climbers, or so said the info I could find.

When we arrived, we drove down to look at the river before making a commitment. The hordes of large trout we spotted quickly convinced us to stay. Up to the campground we went to set up camp. My camping gear was a little damp because I put the tent away with dew and frost on it. Thankfully, the intense western sun and low humidity fixed that in about 2 minutes. Another 5 minutes later and my tent was up and ready for sleeping pad, bag, and pillow. That took another 5 minutes. Soon, we were piling back into the truck for a quick evening fishing trip.

24 Hours of Fly Fishing on the North Platte

Normally, when I fish a new river, not only do a research every possible fishing scenario and location, I also plan for several days to learn the new piece of water sufficiently well. On this particular fishing location, we had 24 hours to unlock the secrets of the stream we were fishing. There wasn't a lot of info available online, just the type of scenario that suggests the fishing could be pretty good.

When we got down to the stream, both of us started to treat the little tailwater like the technical piece of water that it was. I was fishing dry/dropper with one of my favorite midges on the bottom. John was stalking some risers that were working steadily. The water looked incredible, but we could tell that our work was cut out for us. I think both of us caught a small wild trout or two, but nothing to write home about. It was looking like we were down to our last day of fishing and needed solutions fast.

Stars Over Wyoming

That night, I decided to stay up a little more than I had been on this trip. I'm normally quick to bed on fishing trips to rebuild my energy for the next day. This had been a trip with some long days of fishing, and I was getting tired. That's always a sign of a good trip, but I really wanted some night sky pictures. Starting at camp and ending my session right down at the water's edge on the big reservoir, I took pictures for much longer than I intended. I also saw a Starlink satellite array go by. It was pretty wild since I didn't know what I was seeing at the time. Thankfully, it was aliens, so I continued my photography and eventually headed back up the hill to camp for a good night's sleep. Here are some pictures from that session.

Milky Way Reflecting on Pathfinder Reservoir

Cracking the Code on the North Platte

The next morning dawned bright, normal for what is nearly desert in central Wyoming. It is sunny more often than not, so come prepared to take precautions for sunburn. When the sun doesn't get you, the wind will. Wyoming is notorious for wind. We were fortunate to have relatively mild winds during this portion of our trip, but it still gusted from time to time.

We quickly drove down the hill to the stream. John took off for the water while I ate a quick breakfast. I'm a breakfast guy for sure and don't function well without it. I don't need anything fancy, just some calories to get my on my way. Soon, I joined John on the stream and found a big trico hatch coming off. John was in his element. If there is one thing John likes more than anything in fly fishing, it is sight fishing to big fish with dry flies.

Moving around the stream, we headed for a spot where we had found several giant fish the day before. Sure enough, they were feeding hard. I made myself the goal of catching the first big fish I had spotted the evening before. The tricos helped and soon I was making drift after drift over a monster. Eventually, my fly came through just right, the fish made a mistake, and I was hooked up to a rocket on 6x. Things went haywire pretty quick, and I was soon staring at the spot the fish used to break my tippet. Oh well, on to the next fish. The hatch wouldn't last forever.

Despite several big fish hooked, we just didn't land any of the monsters. Huge weed beds, boulders and other obstructions made landing these big tailwater fish a challenge for sure. Still, we were honing in on the right flies, presentations, and where the fish held in the stream.

Working our way slowly downstream, we jumped from run to run. At one likely bend, John made the cast of the trip to a fish working on the far bank over some fast water. The fly had about a 6 inch lane to land in. The fast water between him and the fish meant the drift was nearly impossible. With a slack line presentation and a perfect angle, he got just the right drift and the big fish ate. That fish stayed hooked up a little longer than my big fish higher up the stream, but the result was eventually the same. Tiny hooks, light tippets, and lots of cover were a big challenge.

Monsters Found on the North Platte River

As we neared the end of the meadow section, the dark canyon beckoned. I was starting to think about lunch and didn't want to get into good fishing only to get interrupted by hunger. After a quick trek to the truck for sustenance, we headed down for an afternoon in the upper canyon. Remembering the warnings about rattlesnakes, I was moving slow and really watching my step. If you've followed my blog any length of time, you know how snakes seem to find me (or do I find them?). I'm not paranoid exactly, but I am more cautious than most at this point in life.

It didn't take long in the canyon to start finding fish. My favorite midge pattern was soon accounting for lots of big rainbows. John found a great cuttbow on one as well. These canyon fish mostly didn't have the huge weed beds to burrow into that had caused us so much trouble upstream. Still, giant boulders and innumerable smaller rocks made landing them a challenge.

John's big canyon rainbow was one of the most memorable fish of the afternoon. He was fishing in the first nice pocket where we saw a lot of fish. I had already caught a fish or two, and wanted to get him in on the action. After getting in position, it didn't take him long to hook up. The fish went crazy and was soon well downstream. Due to the nature of the canyon, it was almost impossible to follow with the fly rod. I quickly climbed up the rocks, ran around, and dropped in below John. The hook popped free before I reached the fish, but with a last second lunge, I got the big Brodin ghost net under the fish and scooped before it could race to safety.

Here are some of the fish we caught in that spot in the canyon.

Fly Fishing the North Platte Rainbow Trout

John's big rainbow trout caught fly fishing on the North Platte River

My Trophy Brown Trout on the North Platte River

We were catching just enough to keep us interested and focused. Both of us caught some big rainbows, but there was still the thought in the back of my head that we could be doing better.

The canyon was so rugged that John was content to stop there at the mouth and enjoy that pool. I wanted to explore, so downstream I went. The landscape reminded me of a much smaller version of the Bear Trap Canyon that I had fished with my friend Bryan Allison in Montana several years ago. There, he had taught me the art of jigging for big trout. After fishing my way downstream several pools with my midge nymphing setup with only limited luck, I decided it was time for a change. I pulled my favorite jig streamer out of my pack, beefed up my tippet significantly, and started probing the depths. The fish went wild for it.

Big rocky canyons with tons of undercut boulders are perfect for this technique. My 10' 3 weight Orvis Recon was the ideal tool for the job. Soon, I was moving more big fish than I had seen the entire time on this river. A couple of big rainbows later, I started moving back upstream towards where I had left John. The day was growing late and it was time to start thinking about winding things up.

Trophy North Platte River Rainbow Trout caught while fly fishing

In one particular spot, I had waded under the base of a high cliff through water where I couldn't really see bottom. By some careful maneuvering, I had managed to avoid slipping into the seemingly bottomless holes between the boulders. On my upstream journey, I again carefully threaded my way through this section, leaning against the cliff face for extra balance and support. The pool alongside was a good one, and I worked the jig through the different likely holding spots. Finding nothing, I continued upstream.

Just above the pool, a massive pile of boulders nearly blocked the entire river. Water was running under and around the huge rocks. A small pocket that I nearly overlooked called for a quick cast as I walked by. A huge dark shadow shot out from under one of the boulders and swiped at my streamer but missed.

Shaking, I settled down to really work the spot. This was the fish I was looking for, I was sure of it.
The next cast produced nothing, then I through a little further left, right on the current seam. One jig with my rod tip, and something big grabbed the fly. I had been catching rainbows including some big ones, and immediately I thought that this could be the biggest rainbow I had ever hooked. It was pulling like a freight train.

The fish ran downstream into the pool with the cliff face and wrapped me around a boulder on the far side of the current. As it rolled to the surface downstream of the rock, the distinct butter yellow sides nearly made me lose my mind. At this moment, I was certain I would lose the fish. Not only was it wrapped around the rock, I had the sketchy deep water below the cliff to navigate while also not losing the big brown trout if I wanted any chance of landing him.

Plunging in, I somehow stumbled through the deep water without getting too wet. My waders might have gotten a splash or two over the top, but I was so locked in that I didn't notice. Emerging on the bottom side of the cliff, I got my rod up and the line slid off of the offending rock. Certain the fish was gone, you can imagine my surprise when the line was still tight. The fish made a run for the next big boulder pile downstream, but at this point I started really cranking to put an end to the fight. The 3x tippet held up, and soon one of the nicest brown trout I've ever landed slid into my net.

Now, I have caught larger brown trout, but maybe none more impressive once you factor in the big jaw and the coloration. This fish was already preparing for the upcoming spawn which was a month or month and a half away, and I was lucky to have crossed paths with him. After some quick pictures, I let this gorgeous buck brown slide back into his pool. At that moment, I was done fishing. That was the fish of the trip, hands down. Heart still beating, I carefully, climbed, maneuvered, and hiked my way back up to John.

Big Trophy Brown Trout caught fly fishing on the North Platte River

After telling him about my fish, I suggested that I would probably head back up. I didn't know if I would even cast any more after this fish.

John's Big Cuttbow

Before heading up, I glanced back in the first good pool that John had been fishing and saw a couple of big fish. I told John to not give up yet, because there were still some monsters working the pool. After telling him about the jig I was using, he decided to give it a try. I moved up on top of some boulders to act as a spotter.

John started fishing to a dark smudge that kept appearing in some faster water. We weren't really sure what it was, and when John finally hooked the fish, we had some problems. The fast water and a strong fish were a recipe for minimal success, but somehow John guided the fish towards where I had jumped down with my net. Soon, we had another memorable fish in the net. The heavy tippet we used for the jig streamer made landing these hot fish possible.

Nice cuttbow on the North Platte River Fly Fishing in Wyoming

After that fish, John was also ready for some different scenery, and the meadow water was calling him back up. Before long, we were slowly climbing our way out of the boulder strewn pocket water, keeping an eye out for rattlesnakes, and eventually emerged back into the brilliantly lit meadow. Late afternoon sun was slanting in just above the ridge line and lit up the entire meadow in brilliant hues of orange.

Last Fish Encore

The rest of the trip was anticlimactic. We found a pool or two open that had been continuously occupied since we had arrived on this stream. My curiosity got the best of me, and I went ahead and rerigged
for midge fishing. That was a good decision, because I had one more memorable fish to catch.

The last big rainbow and final fish of the trip for me hit in a piece of faster water and came to the net in golden late day light. It was the perfect ending to a very memorable trip. John kindly snapped a couple of pictures for me. Ever since, I've been dreaming about how to get back to the North Platte. It was certainly good to me, and I still want to see the Miracle Mile...