Stalking Risers

Spring in the Smokies is for rising trout.  Usually this means lots of 4"-10" rainbows with a few browns thrown in the mix.  Yesterday I had some business in Knoxville so as soon as I finished, the Park started calling my name.  The sunny skies and warmer temperatures had me dreaming of big hatches and even larger trout.  Large browns do not rise freely to insects very often, especially in the freestone streams of east Tennessee, but if you are going to catch one on a dry then spring is the time to do it. 

When I first arrived at the stream, there were good numbers of Blue Quills, Quill Gordons, and even some Hendricksons mixed in as well as a huge midge hatch.  Several fish were rising, but I was after larger game.  I spent a lot of the afternoon simply looking for large browns.  Some time was spent simply covering water with a dry or double nymph rig and I scored a few decent fish this way as well.  Several very nice fish were out feeding, but it wasn't until late in the day that I struck gold.

I was creeping along the bank of a nice pool when I noticed a dark shadow float to the surface to take an insect.  It was so unexpected that I almost ignored it, but thankfully my fisherman's instinct kicked in and I froze.  Thankfully the fish hadn't seen me, and I watched from behind the cover of a large tree trunk as the fish moved back and forth in the lazy current, rising occasionally to pluck something from the surface.  I checked the rest of the pool to make sure I wasn't missing something larger before returning to sit on the bank and observe the nice fish.  The brown was still there and another slightly smaller fish had moved in behind to feed as well. 

After considering my options and observing the fish, I carefully tied on a dry and crept down the bank to within 15 feet of the fish.  Stripping several feet of line off the reel, I carefully made two false casts and then dropped the fly gently above the fish.  For a second nothing happened.  Then the fish moved and began its ascent through the water column as my heart started pounding.  For an agonizing second (or was it an eternity?), the fish stared hard at the fly and then confidently inhaled my offering. 

As soon as I raised the rod tip, I knew I had a solid hook set and a good chance at landing the fish.  What I hadn't counted on was the fish going aerial.  My heart sunk as the fish repeatedly took to the air, but soon it grew tired, and I confidently raised its head prior to netting. After a couple of pictures, I cradled the fish gently in the current while it regained its energy before heading for a rock to hide under. 

At this point my day was perfect, and I couldn't ask for anything more.  I did spot another good fish, but finally decided to just head home and let the other fish in the stream feed in peace for that day.