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.
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| "Sculpin" ©2025 David Knapp Photography |
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.
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| "Sculpin eater" Photo courtesy of Pat Tully ©2025 |
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.
