Choosing the Best Fly Rod for Smoky Mountains Fly Fishing

If you're like me and have been around the inter webs for a long time, you've seen some variation of the question. What is the best fly rod for.....? You name it. Best fly rod for streamer fishing. Best fly rod for nymph fishing. Best fly rod for brook trout. Best fly rod for brown trout. Best fly rod for Yellowstone. In other words, people are always looking for an edge when it comes to their piscatorial pursuits. This question has been asked via online message boards, in person and on the phone when I worked at a fly shop, and nowadays on Facebook groups. The problem is, they are asking the wrong questions of the wrong people. The title for this short piece is clear enough, but I probably should have called it, "How To Ask the Right Questions About Fly Rods."

The real solution here that very few people actually seem to seriously want is to work hard at becoming a better angler. That could include investing money into some guided fly fishing trips or it could be as simple as just getting out on the water more. Investing a lot of time goes a long ways towards making someone proficient. If you have invested that kind of time, you've probably already figured out the answer to the question of best fly rod. If you haven't been fly fishing long enough or don't have the time to get out more, I'll address one specific version of this question. What is the best fly rod for Smoky Mountains fly fishing?

Before I get too far into my own personal opinions on the matter, I'll share some background. First, this is not the first, and probably won't be the last time I deal with some form of this question. I've covered How To Select the Perfect Fly Rod before. This is a little different from that post as you'll see. Go back and read it first just to be sure.  Second, I've been fly fishing for close to 30 years now or nearly 3/4 of my life. In other words, I have a little experience that has led me on a circutuous journey that has brought me nearly full circle on rod selection. I'll explain more shortly. Finally, note the first sentence of this paragraph. No matter how much I or any other angler may have learned a thing or two along the way, anything we might suggest is simply our own opinion. No matter what anyone else says, there is no right or wrong answer to any of these questions.

When I first started fly fishing, I got a Walmart special. In retrospect, I'm not sure it is even a fly rod. At the time, however, it was perfect. Everything about that rod looks like a fly rod except for how clunky it is and how terribly it casts. I'm suspicious it is actually some sort of crappie rod, and yes, I do still have it floating around somewhere. Still, and this is the important part, I learned to cast with the rod. In fact, I was hauling and even double hauling without knowing that was a thing. The darn rod wouldn't cast worth a flip without a good haul. Necessity is the mother of invention. At the time, I didn't know that hauling was an actual technique, so I made it up as I went. As time went on, I yearned for a better rod. Now I know better. That is a slippery slope, but at the time I was convinced that a better rod would help. 

The next rod wasn't half bad, but still not the right rod for the job. It was a 6 weight, too heavy for what I was doing, but better than my current setup. Of all the rods I've ever owned, I actually have probably used it the least or pretty close to it. Not that anything was especially wrong with the rod, but it wasn't too long after getting this rod that I got my first "nice" rod. That 6 weight did come in handy years later, but that's another story for another day. My first nice rod was an Orvis Superfine 8' 4 weight, known as the Tight Loop. To this day, it is still one of my absolute favorite fly rods. So much so, in fact, that I eventually picked up a second to have as a backup. Orvis doesn't make these rods and hasn't for more than 20 years I believe, so you can't just get a new one made unfortunately.

That rod really molded me as an angler. Because it was the nicest rod I had for several years, it became all I fished. I learned to do a LOT with that 8' 4 weight rod, but what it really excels at is dry or dry/dropper fishing on small to medium sized mountain streams. When I learned to high stick nymphs for the legendary Walter Babb, he kindly suggested that I might want a slightly longer and faster rod. The soft Superfine is just too flexible to be a great tight line rod although it works in a pinch. In fact, I learned to be deadly with that rod, but it is not the most efficient rod I could use for that method. Thus it was that I found myself looking for yet another fly rod. The next rod would be my 4th in case you're counting. Don't worry, the numbers will get really blurry quickly. 

My next "nice" rod was a 9' 5 weight St. Croix Legend Ultra. When I first got the rod, I was in college and had it shipped to my dorm. When it arrived, I hurried to string it up and cast it on the lawn. I was almost convinced the rod was broken. Yet, upon examination, the rod looked intact. You see, my casting stroke had evolved through the prior three rods and settled into something that made the SUPER SLOW Superfine (Say that 10 times fast!) work magic. It was far from fitted for a super fast St. Croix (Try that one also!). It took me quite a bit of work to make that fast action rod work correctly, but I got the hang of it and soon found myself fishing it far more than the Superfine. I had evolved as an angler and was more interested in the most effective fishing tool. The Legend Ultra was an amazing high sticking rod. Being so fast, you could stick most fish that ate instead of missing many like I did on the Superfine. Setting the rod hard enough was no longer my limiting factor.

After the 5 weight Legend Ultra, my next rod was a 9' 7 weight Temple Fork Outfitters TiCr-X. Even though I've had that rod for probably close to 20 years now, it is still one of my favorite streamer rods. I've caught big trout, largemouth and smallmouth bass, drum, carp, stripers, musky and many other fish on that rod. Since then, I've picked up just a few more rods. Short rods, long rods, 1 weight rods, 2 weight rods, 3 weight rods, 4 weight rods, 5 weight rods, 6 weight rods, 7 weight rods, 8 weight rods, 10 weight rods, 11 weight rods, well, you get the picture. Some rods have stayed and kept a place in my gear closet, while others have been sold to make room for more pressing needs. The important part here, however, is that I have plenty of options to choose from when I go fishing in the Smokies. In general, I find myself reaching for one of 4 or 5 rods depending on where I am fishing.

If I'm fishing Little River, Abrams Creek, the Oconaluftee, Deep Creek, Cataloochee Creek, or any of the other larger Park streams, I'm probably reaching for my 10' 3 weight Orvis Recon, or a 10' 2 weight Echo Shadow X. The Echo is an incredible rod, but the main reason I don't reach for it every single time is that it is a little light for jigging heavier streamers. I find that my Orvis 10' 3 weight Recon can do anything (for me) from jigging heavier jig streamers, to throwing dry flies, to high stick nymphing. In other words, it can cover any possible situation that might arise on the medium to large streams of the Smokies. It isn't the best rod for beginners because it is a little stiff. That makes it tough to get the hang of for someone new to fly fishing and trying to cast dry flies, but if you have been doing it a while, you can make this rod do everything. The Echo Shadow X is probably more fun to fish, and a nice Smokies fish feels incredible on the 2 weight. I'm just nervous casting super heavy jig streamers on a rod with such a delicate tip. There was a point where I thought you couldn't go too long on fly rods, but for me the 10' rod is the sweet spot. I have an 11' 3 weight Echo Shadow X that is just a little too much rod for me in many situations. If all you're doing is high stick nymphing, however, it is hard to beat as well.

If I'm going fishing for brook trout, then I'm likely reaching for a slightly shorter rod. I've fished 10' and longer rods on brook trout streams, and they are actually pretty useful. However, I like a deeper flexing rod for brook trout, and find myself reaching for the old Orvis Superfine rods or a fiberglass rod more often than not. If I know I'm only fishing dry flies or maybe a dry/dropper, then something between a one and four weight is perfect, and I hope it has a nice slow action. When you hook a 10 inch fish on a rod like this, you'll double the rod up and think you've hung the biggest fish in the Park. Lots of fun! 

At this point, you might be asking yourself, which of these is the best fly rod for Smoky Mountains fishing? And that is the wrong question. What you need to be asking is what rod will I enjoy the most? Or maybe, what rod will help me catch the most fish? Or what rod is most effective for method XYZ? The answers to those questions are not necessarily the same. 

I have long held that many people's recommendations for shorter rods for Park fishing is the furthest thing from the right rod for the job, and I still stand by that belief. However, that only applies for the question of what rod is the most effective rod in the Smokies. I can only think of two or three brook trout streams I've fished where I shorter rod is better suited for the job. For probably 90% or 95% of Great Smoky Mountains fly fishing, a rod ranging from 8'6" to 10" (or even longer) is ideal. This is because we find ourselves high sticking more often than not (for dry flies, nymphs, and streamers even on occasion). Longer rods equals longer reach. The farther you can reach towards the fish without spooking them the better, at least up to a point. There is a point of diminishing returns, however, based on rod swing weight and if it starts getting tip heavy, you've probably gone too long. That said, high sticking can be a mask for a deeper problem. Some high stick anglers continue to only fish that way because they find much less success utilizing other methods. 

And that brings us to the next point. Shorter rods are fine if you just like to cast and don't fish as much pocket water. However, longer rods will still help you mend better because a longer rod can pick up more line off of the water. So now the question becomes clearer. Do you want the most effective rod, or do you want the rod you will enjoy most? If you measure enjoyment by how many fish you catch, then probably go for the longer rod most of the time (and not one that is too soft). Even on brook trout streams, fish the absolute longest rod you can manage without getting in the bushes and trees all day. If you measure enjoyment as a function of the joy of casting the rod combined with the total experience of catching fish in a pristine mountain stream, then a shorter deeper flexing rod might be the ticket. This is especially true if you enjoy playing the fish and not just yanking them in one after another. A true sporting gentleman might take this one step further and make sure the rod is made of split bamboo by a fine rod maker.

Deciding which rod you'll enjoy the most comes down to just casting a bunch of rods. Go to your nearest fly shop and cast a bunch of rods or ask your favorite guide to bring a selection to sample on the next guided trip. Ask questions of your local fly shop employees such as what rod will help me catch more brook trout? Or what rod will make me a better dry fly angler? Or what rod is best for high sticking/euro nymphing/tight lining/whatever else you want to call it? Or what rod brings YOU the most joy to fish? Ask 100 shop employees that last question and you'll get a TON of different answers, just like in that Facebook group.

Most of the best anglers I know aren't hanging out on online forums answering and asking questions about the best fly rods. So just know that your answers on places like a Facebook group will be wildly inaccurate, or at best will be rooted in that person's favorite (and in some cases only) rods. Make sure to ask the correct question, and it will go a long ways towards helping you select your next fly rod. If you need help figuring out what rod you need, don't hesitate to reach out to me. I won't necessarily have the right answer, but I'll definitely have some opinions, and I don't mind sharing those. The best discussion will probably happen on the phone or in person, because there isn't usually a simple answer. I'll work through the question with you to make sure we are asking and answering the intended question to get you the right rod. 

Want to read more? Check out this story of a Smokies autumn fishing trip.

Big Browns in the Smokies in Fall

Small Details

For some people, this will be a boring blog post. If you are here for fishing info, you can skip this one. Hopefully this will resonate with someone other than myself when I say this, but I don't go fishing just to catch fish. There is the old cliche story about first you want to catch a fish, then a lot of fish, then a big fish, then a lot of big fish, then you come full circle and just want to go fishing. Well, this is similar to that concept, sort of. 

It is probably the photographer in me, but patterns, shapes, colors, light or the lack thereof, and interesting flora and fauna all interest me. In fact, that is one reason you are just about as likely to find me roaming the woods with a camera (or even just my cellphone) as with a fly rod. However, it is the small details that often greatly enrich my fishing trips, adding immense value to what is already a special experience. 

Sometimes, those small details are the fish themselves. A closeup of a native southern Appalachian brook trout never gets old and why I have way more fish pictures on my phone and computer than necessary. Even after seeing thousands of wild and native fish, I still have to snap a picture because they are so pretty. 

©2020 David Knapp Photography

Still, it is often more about things other than fish. In other words, it is easy for a fish to catch your eye. That is what you are targeting after all. But how about that interesting mushroom? How about stream side wildflowers and other plants? Or maybe spiders? Seriously. All of these are things I tried to take pictures of on my recent backpacking trip in the Smokies. 

Near camp, these ferns growing off a bridge caught my eye. The contrast of bright green against the watery background kept me coming back again and again. In the end, I settled for what my cellphone could do, but left wishing for my "good" camera. 

©2022 David Knapp Photography

Sometimes, my efforts aren't particularly successful. I found some neat pink turtleheads, but my cellphone pictures were less than stellar. They didn't make the cut to share. Maybe next time I'll have a "good" camera. The few bright leaves around also drew my eye and at least a couple of them weren't half bad. Can you find the angler in the background on this one?

©2022 David Knapp Photography

This next one was one of my favorites. I'll call it the "Cat's Eye" for obvious reasons. No joke, this is exactly how I found these leaves. Nature never ceases to amaze me. What are the odds that these two leaves just happened to link up so perfectly? 

©2022 David Knapp Photography

Even the smaller details near camp were interesting. I found jack in the pulpit seeds, bursting bright red and ready to grow the next generation of these interesting flowers. I found spider webs with spiders who weren't camera shy. This was another one that begged for a better camera, but the cellphone did not do too badly either. 

©2022 David Knapp Photography 

One of my favorites from the trip was also one of the plainest. Something about the meeting of deciduous and evergreen here made me happy when I saw it. Of course, with so many evergreens in the Smokies eliminated by things like woolly adelgid, I'm just happy to discover one that is happy and healthy along a trout stream. 

©2022 David Knapp Photography

I like to eat, so every time I see some type of mushroom, I always wonder if it is edible. This one was no different, although I wasn't really prepared on this backpacking trip to cook a mushroom. It would have been a fun task back in camp if I was. There are only a very few wild mushrooms I feel comfortable with. If you are versed in wild mushrooms, let me know what this one is and if it is good to eat! 

©2022 David Knapp Photography

By now, you are probably beginning to get an inkling of the types of things that catch my eye while on a trout stream. Often it is birds or other wildlife, but they are usually too quick for me to catch with my cellphone. On these backpacking trips, that is usually all I carry. Too much weight with the other options. Even on day trips, it is all the extras that bring completeness to my experience. Without the small details, it would just be a fish catching excursion, and those aren't always super successful. Fishing trips, however, are always successful. Catching a fish is just icing on the cake...

Annual Fall Backpacking Trip 2022: Day 1

The last few years has seen me return to backpacking at least once or twice a year. I've developed a habit of visiting my favorite brook trout streams in September. The spring or early summer trip is a revolving trip that visits different streams each time for the most part. This year's September trip was scheduled a little early. Normally I wait until closer to the end of the month, but this year it had to happen a couple of weeks sooner due to a family Colorado trip. Regardless, the brook trout were beginning to color up in their finest fall apparel and were feeding with the abandon that one expects of trout in the fall.

I loosely planned the trip in conjunction with a couple of friends. In other words, we intended to arrive at the same campsite around the same time and hopefully fish together, maybe some or maybe the whole time. Keeping things casual left open more options than if we had a rigid game plan. 

As with most campsites I stay at on these types of trips, this one is right on a stream. That makes things like meal prep and water gathering easy, but you do deal with a lot of condensation. Once things get damp, the high humidity along the creek keeps them that way. Still, the benefits far outweigh any small negative aspect, especially walking out of my tent and immediately starting to catch trout.

David Knapp heading out on a backpacking adventure. ©2022 David Knapp

The first day, our goal was to arrive at camp early enough to maybe catch a few fish. When I saw the forecast, I almost bailed on the trip entirely, but since I had friends expecting to see me, I decided to slog it out, literally.

Things started out nice and dry as I got my pre hike selfie in. I got about a mile up the trail before it started raining. In the next couple of miles, I walked through one of the worst downpours I've ever experienced while backpacking. The only one that compares was a cloudburst while hiking up Clingmans Dome out of Forney Creek. That hike wasn't as bad as this one, mainly because I knew I had a change of dry clothes waiting in my car along with climate control. 

When I arrived at camp, I told Buddy that I knew exactly when he arrived to set up camp because the sky had opened up on me. His camp was up although damp. Thankfully the rain eased off and gave me time to get my stuff set up without the massive downpour. Having a dry retreat during a wet backpacking trip can really make things seem much better. 

After setting up camp, I decided I might as well go fishing. I certainly wasn't going to get any wetter in the creek than I already was. The water was up a little and stained with the dark tea color. The tannins in the leaves and pine needles more or less makes tea out of the water. Hoping that a flood wasn't imminent, we worked our way up the stream catching fish here and there. 

Buddy working his Tenkara USA rod on this Smoky Mountain stream. ©2022 David Knapp

I was pleasantly surprised to find myself catching more brook trout than rainbows. While I usually catch some brook trout, I usually catch a lot more rainbows. On this evening, that script was flipped. It reminded me of my first trip to this drainage where I caught several beautifully colored brook trout.

Closeup of a native southern Appalachian brook trout. ©2022 David Knapp

Native brook trout are absolutely incredible. ©2022 David Knapp

Eventually, things started to revert back to normal and the rainbows began to dominate as we worked out way upstream. We each found a few fish with some coming from surprisingly skinny water. The fish were still largely in summer mode. The riffles were producing at least as well as the pools and deeper runs.

Wild Smoky Mountain rainbow trout. ©2022 David Knapp

With the threat for more rain and potentially rising water, we soon decided to head back down to camp and start supper. That task was completed before more rain caught us and I was able to enjoy getting into a dry tent and dry clothes for the night. I was lulled to sleep by the sound of the creek charging past just to my left. My dreams were of brook trout attacking dry flies that I would hopefully find on the morrow...

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. 

Great Smoky Mountains Grand Slam Challenge 2022

One of the fun challenges for anglers in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park is to catch all three species of trout the Park has to offer. Known by a variety of names including a grand slam, slam, hat trick, and others, this challenge is to simply catch a rainbow, brown and brook trout with some set of specified limitations sometimes imposed. These can include catching the fish all on the same day or from the same stream or on the same trip. Having accomplished a slam many times over the years, I now enjoy helping other anglers achieve this challenge through my work as a fly fishing guide. Still, I'm always happy for new motivation to go and enjoy the bounty of the mountains on my own. 

When I heard about the 2022 Grand Slam Challenge from Little River Outfitters, I knew that my motivation was back. LRO has graciously created a pin to commemorate catching the slam this year. All you have to do is stop by the shop, find out the "rules" and let Daniel know you are about to embark upon the challenge, and bring back photo evidence. Of course, you need to keep in mind excellent fish handling techniques in all of your picture documentation. 

I first heard about this challenge from my friend, client, and fellow angler Buddy Randolph. Somehow he had gotten wind of the idea early on and was keen to complete the challenge. Since we already had a trip scheduled for April, we decided to make an effort to incorporate this challenge into the guide trip. I intended to do some fishing for myself outside of the guide trip, so we planned a camping trip that would take us to where this challenge could reasonably be accomplished. 

Cataloochee Valley is one of my favorite places in the Smokies. This quiet and out of the way valley gets more than its fair share of traffic thanks to the good fishing and wildlife viewing opportunities. This was one of the first places that elk were reintroduced inside the Park, and late summer into the fall offers an excellent chance to see these magnificent creatures during the yearly rut. While the elk are a fun bonus, I'm nearly alway there for the fishing. With lots of tributary creeks plus the main stem of Cataloochee Creek, there are plenty of good options for fishing. Even better, brook trout show up throughout the valley along with rainbow and brown trout, so catching the Smoky Mountain slam is usually relatively easy. 

While I'll let Buddy share the details his own story, I will say that we eventually found the slam for him. I got lucky and managed the trick my first evening in camp, fishing within walking distance of my campsite. The brook and brown trout are usually the ones you have to work for and for very different reasons, but I had good balance in numbers between each of the three species. 

A dry fly with a caddis pupa dropper seemed appropriate, and I never really deviated from that approach for my own personal fishing throughout the trip. The fish ate a large Parachute Adams at least as well as the caddis pupa dropper, probably because of all the March brown mayflies that I observed. Both duns and spinners were on the water at different times. Yellow sallies, some other mayflies, and of course caddis were all hatching, but never in particularly big numbers. 

 

Upon completing the challenge, I knew there would be a few days until I could claim my prize. The wait was well worth it, however! On Friday, I had a guide trip in the Smokies which allowed me to stop in and see Daniel at Little River Outfitters. Soon, I had my pin in hand. I hope that LRO will continue this challenge or perhaps even expand to include some other challenges in the future. What a fun motivation to get out on the water! 

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...

New Great Smoky Mountains Brook Trout Video

So, as you probably suspected from the lack of posts lately, I've been pretty busy. My last two fishing trips that likely would have produced a blog post were both last week, but I've been sitting on them both. The reason being that I got a new toy: a GoPro. Yep, I finally caved and got one. So far it has been a lot of fun as long as I quickly learned its shortcomings and avoided them. The most obvious that I've figured out is that it doesn't focus well up close. That is how it gets such great wild angle footage along with sharp video throughout the depth of field. Somewhere it had to suffer and apparently that is in closeups. Not that it does badly, mind you, but I have to be careful how close I hold it when taking a fish picture or video.

Anyway, I went all out and got a chest mount and a few other goodies for it. Last week, I made the first serious fishing trip while hauling this whole contraption around. It was a day of learning, tweaking, trying new things, and tweaking some more. Eventually, I got enough good footage to try my hand at another YouTube video. That produced its own set of learning opportunities. 

This time around, I played with some color corrections. Some of which turned out really well, some of which, well, the lighting was really funny. Seriously. Regardless, I had a lot of fun and enjoyed trying something new out. While this won't be how I always do my fishing trips from now on (seriously, who wants to spend their whole time just trying to get a good video), I'll definitely be hauling it along from time to time and trying new things. I hope to continue to improve on my videos. While I'll probably never be anywhere close to some of the great film makers in the sport of fly fishing, it is still something fun to play with and learn about. 

So, for my first film with the new GoPro, I want to share "Backcountry Brookies in the Smokies" with you. You can watch it on my Trout Zone Anglers YouTube channel, of course. While you're there, please give me a follow. You can also try watching it in the viewer below. If possible, watch the 4k version for best quality. I hope you enjoy!

Pivotal Moments

Each angler has a growth timeline, and everyone's is different. Most likely, the pattern is not linear, but rather includes growth in fits and starts and maybe even some regression. For example, you probably weren't a proficient caster when you first started into the sport. Over time, you learned a basic cast, then maybe something fancier like a reach cast, parachute cast, steeple cast, well, you get the idea. There is a lot of growth that happens as a fly angler if you are spending much time doing it. 

The Beginning

Most of us started our journey of growth with that first trout on a fly rod. I remember mine just like it was yesterday. My dad had taken me fishing in the Smokies and I was trying my best to figure out how to catch a trout. The shiners were easy, and I had caught plenty of those. Same for the chub and other small minnows. What I wanted was a real, honest to goodness trout. 

We were fishing the lower end of Anthony Creek or the upper end of Abrams Creek depending on your definitions. I generally consider Anthony Creek to be the main stream in the upper part of Cades Cove before the water goes underground and Abrams Creek to be the downstream portion where it reemerges at several large springs. We were fishing just below the road crossing on Sparks Lane. A small cuttbank had helped scour a deeper hole in the creek where the water turned hard. At the bottom, I saw what looked like a rainbow trout. 

Sure enough, after tying on a small nymph, I got the cast angle right and the fly drifted down to the fish. Immediately, the trout inhaled the fly, and I set the hook. Soon, I was holding my first wild rainbow trout. That moment is something I enjoy reliving again and again as a fly fishing guide. Watching people start the journey as a fly angler is one of the treats of my job. Then again, the whole job is more or less a treat.

 

First Nice Brown Trout

I also remember my first quality brown trout in the Smokies. Not too long after that memorable rainbow, I was back fishing in the Smokies again. My dad was kind enough to take me fishing even though he wasn't himself fishing. These trips were a big treat, and contributed greatly to me being the angler I am today. Without those early trips, I probably would never have become a fly angler, much less been able to make it a career. 

Anyway, it was late in the day. My dad was tired and had stayed up at the car to probably catch a snooze while I wandered down through the woods to the bank of Little River. A perfect run had a big rapid dumping in from above. The big pocket where the rapid dumped in was separated from the main pool, but it looked fishy. I could just imagine the big trout waiting for me there. 

At that point in my angling career, I still was nowhere close to proficient with nymphs. Nowadays, that is probably what I would have been fishing. Thankfully, perhaps, because a big dry fly is what grabbed the attention of the big brown trout. I had tied on a big yellow Stimulator. High sticking it across the first currents and letting it dance across the surface, a big golden blur swirled on it. Once, twice, three times. Surely this fish wasn't going to keep coming back to my fly. And yet it did. One more time was one too many for the fish. 

Down into the big pool went the big fish with me in pursuit. When I finally landed it, I looked around, hoping my dad might appear with a camera. No such luck happened, and I carefully slid the hook out and released the quality trout. The fish was probably 16 inches or so. Nowhere close to the largest I've ever hooked, this was still memorable as the first really nice trout I caught on a fly rod.

First Quality Smokies Rainbow Trout

My first big wild rainbow in the Smokies was also memorable. So was the second. Eventually, some of the big fish you catch over the years start to blur together. However, for me at least, some of those early ones were pivotal moments that gave me the motivation to stick with it. They were evidence that I was slowly but surely figuring things out. 

The first big wild rainbow trout in the Smokies came on Abrams Creek. The late evening hatches and spinner falls are legendary. I found myself there late one day and was fishing over some rising trout. They wouldn't take what I was throwing. About that time, I noticed bugs skittering up and down just above the water's surface. Occasionally, one would bounce all the way down to the water before flying up again. Now I know that I was witnessing egg laying activity. At the time, I just knew I had to mimic the action of the real bugs. 

Extending my rod tip as far out as possible, I bounced it carefully up and down, making my dry fly dance just like the naturals. Sure enough, a big trout leaped and inhaled my fly. The 14 inch wild rainbow was big for the Smokies. I was sure that I was onto something. Catching another couple of fish with a similar technique had me genuinely excited. However, it was a very specific technique with a very specific application. What about when the fish weren't looking for egg layers? 

The second quality rainbow sort of snuck up on me. It was in the fall, and I was fishing a favorite pocket water stretch of Little River. To this day, I still like that section, probably because of the style of water which matches my preferred style of fishing. Regardless, water levels were at a normal fall low and a dry fly seemed appropriate. I had tied some October caddis and had one on the end of my leader as I prospected my way upstream. The take was rather nonchalant, but the fight was anything but. The 15 inch wild rainbow trout gave both me and my fly rod a real workout. I think a couple of cars stopped and took pictures of the fight, but I was too focused to be sure of that part. When that fish came to the net, I had my second wild rainbow over 12 inches ever. 

This second big rainbow was a pivotal moment because I had caught the fish on a rather lengthy cast compared to my usual high sticking. Normally not as successful with longer casts, this moment convinced me that it was possible to catch fish on longer casts. The line management skills necessary would come with practice. 

Fishing With A Guide

My first time fishing with a guide really propelled me forward in my fly fishing journey. In fact, it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that one of the all time biggest contributors to my fly fishing education and growth was thanks to the famous Walter Babb. I wanted to learn to high stick nymphs without an indicator. Today, the buzzword is euro nymphing. Back when I learned, we didn't have fancy indicator tippet, but the techniques are similar. However, the local technique is something that evolved separately, first using a long cane pole and a fixed length line, then eventually a fly rod.

The general idea is to lead the flies through the water without dragging them. When your leader or tippet ticks or straightens out, you have a bite. There are other things like a tuck cast that help make this all come together, but really it isn't too difficult. However, I was having a hard time figuring everything out. The instruction from a professional guide made all the difference in the world, and my catch rates very quickly went through the roof.

My skills in the Smokies were really coming into their own, but there was still a lot of water out there to learn. Tailwaters, smallmouth, and of course trout streams and rivers out west. My horizons were about to expand in a big way and that would further my growth as an angler. 

Sometimes Failure Produces Growth

Interestingly, one of the next major growth moments for me happened almost by accident. Sometimes being in the right place at the right time leads to growth even when you don't catch any fish. This episode happened at Lee's Ferry on the Colorado River below Glen Canyon Dam. After reading about this famous tailwater in Fly Fisherman many years ago, I just had to fish there. When a year off in college took me to Arizona, I knew my opportunity had come. 

I stopped at one of the local fly shops, talked to the person there, and ended up buying some zebra midges. They explained how to fish them, and I headed out to the walk and wade access. In the end, I couldn't buy a trout. The big water of the Colorado both humbled and intimidated me at the time. So, I walked away with some new flies, and a memory of a beautiful river I hope to fish again someday. 

Fast forward a few months, and you would find me standing on the banks of Tennessee's Caney Fork River. As I was thinking about what to fish with, I remembered that somebody had said that Caney Fork was a good midge fishery. Remembering those zebra midges, I dug through my boxes and attached one on a dropper below my dry fly. Amazingly, every fish I cast to ate the zebra midge. To say it was an eye opener would be an understatement. That day on the Caney and that tough day on the Colorado combined to interest me in midge fishing. Now, I fish them year round and am still learning a lot about them each time I go. 

My midge fishing has evolved continuously from that day. I've caught fish all over the western US on midges. Of course, my home rivers also fish well with them. Even in the Smokies, I fish midge patterns when the going gets tough.

Ability is the Sum of Experience and Knowledge

As an angler, there have since been many other learning moments. I'll never forget my first time in a drift boat, with many others to follow. Good friends along the way have helped to mold the angler that I am today. At the end of the day, an angler's ability is the sum of their experience and knowledge with maybe a little luck thrown in for good measure. Certainly some of my favorite catches over the years were the result of luck to some extent. At least being in the right place at the right time, but ability still is an important component. 

Sometimes, an angler can get in their own way too. I've lost a good many fish over the years. There were fish that I shouldn't have lost. Some were my own fault, probably many in fact. Other times, the fish simply won. Still, a good angler minimizes those times through their vast catalogue of experiences. Other battles won and lost. Other big fish played on light tippets, or maybe other big fish on heavy streamers. 

Sometimes even the little guys teach us valuable lessons. I once fished for a 6 inch rainbow in the Smokies for a good 45 minutes without catching it, mostly because I love sight fishing. Still, I learned a lot about what wasn't working on that particular fish. Those big fish are the ones that keep us coming back. I often tell other anglers, both clients and also friends and family, that to land big fish, you usually have to lose a few to figure out how to fight them properly. You can be coached up to a point, yet if guiding has taught me anything, you can be told exactly what is about to happen and still do the wrong thing.

Losing the Bull Trout of a Lifetime

Last summer, on our western road trip, chasing bull trout was part of the goal. I had done my homework. The knowledge piece seemed to be there, but I needed to gain the experience part firsthand. When I hooked and fought a bull trout for probably a minute or more the first day of fishing, I thought I had it made. Seconds later, the fly simply pulled out. 

In retrospect, there were at least a couple of things I did wrong as well as a few I did right. First, I was fishing the heaviest tippet I thought I could get away with. That was smart. Turns out the tippet was the least of my worries. This big mean fish didn't care whether I had tied the fly on with rope. Bull trout are generally going to eat or they aren't. If a bull trout is in the mood to feed, I'm of the opinion that just about anything will work based on my very limited experience. 

Another thing I did right was to bring as much pressure to bear on the fish when it headed for a big log jam. The big fish turned at the last possible second. Another couple of feet and the fish was undoubtedly gone. Unfortunately, I took that lesson and pushed it too far. 

With the fish in open water, I started trying to end the fight immediately. I had my seven weight doubled up. The fish was no more than 15 feet away now. Suddenly, the line simply went limp. In the end, I using too much pressure when it wasn't necessary and ripped the fly out of the bull trout's mouth. I had lost the bull trout of a lifetime up to that point. That isn't saying much since I had never caught one, but the fish was definitely at least a two footer. A really nice fish that I would be thrilled with any day.

Redemption: Lessons Learned and Lessons Applied

A few days later, I finally landed the big bull trout I was looking for. There was chaos in the moment, yet, somehow I did everything mostly correct. At least, I did enough right to land the fish. There were still some stupid mistakes that thankfully didn't cost me. Looking back, I can learn even from those, however. 

The interesting thing about landing a bull trout is the quiet confidence it gave me back on my home waters. You wouldn't think that those things are related. However, losing that big fish on the first day really settled an old lesson once and for all, at least I hope. Knowing exactly how hard to push the fish without losing it is a tough lesson to learn. I'm 99.9% certain I'll eventually have to learn it again. If not on trout, then on some powerful ocean dwelling fish perhaps. 

Still, when I fish the Clinch River now, I find myself far more relaxed and unconcerned when fishing light tippets and small flies. Not that I never lose trout, mind you, but the fish is often more responsible than I am. The funny thing is that my bull trout lesson was on heavy tippet, yet, the real lesson learned was to not panic in the middle of a fight. 

The first bull trout I hooked ended in too much pressure. Often, as an angler, I found that my lost fish come when I panic and do something that I would otherwise know not to do. In other words, fish are lost when you aren't thinking clearly. To land a fish, any fish really but especially big fish, you need to be singularly focused. Blocking out everything but the task before you is tough in our world today. With so many things competing for our time and attention, tossing all the distraction aside and fighting a trout is easier said than done. 

Landing that big bull trout helped me loosen up. For some reason, it was another significant turning point in my fishing career. Now, I don't put as much pressure on myself. More importantly, I don't beat myself up when I lose fish as much as I used to. Let's face it, none of us likes to lose a trout. Yet, putting that moment into the big scheme of things, a lost trout really isn't too important. And that's coming from a guide who knows that landed big fish can be the difference in a big tip or not. Still, at the end of the day, it is just a trout and just a tip. Once you put those things into the proper perspective, you will fish more effortlessly. Not completely effortlessly, just more effortlessly. And each new growth experience will make that a little bit more true. 

Next Growth Moment

The funny thing about those pivotal moments in life, be it in fly fishing or otherwise, you never know when one is about to sneak up on you. In hindsight, they seem pretty obvious, but sometimes it takes a few days at least and often months or even years to realize the significance. The next growth moment could very well sneak up on me. In fact, I've had a couple of moments on the water lately that might end up being important down the road. Right now, I'm still digesting them. Those moments could just be a small blip on the radar. On the other hand, maybe ten years from now I'll write another article like this one and they will be cited as a pivotal moment of growth. 

So what have been your pivotal moments of growth as a fly angler?

Backcountry Jaunts

Sometimes you just want to have the stream to yourself. Around here, that usually means a hike and the longer the better. On some of our smallmouth bass streams, those hikes don't have to be as far. Those streams rugged nature and difficult fishing means that they aren't buried in people like some trout rivers are. On the other hand, if you head to the Clinch River on a weekend morning, you better bring your own rock to stand on. 

The Great Smoky Mountains fall somewhere between these two extremes, although on some days it can feel awfully crowded these days. Not all that many years ago, you could fish just about wherever you wanted to most of the year. Those days are long gone or at least on an extended pause. Thus, if you want some semblance of a backcountry fishing experience, you better plan on walking. 

A couple of weeks ago, my buddy and fellow fly fishing guide Pat Tully and I trekked into the Smoky Mountain backcountry for a few hours of fishing. This wasn't the longest hike I've ever done to fish in the Smokies, not even close in fact. However, at over four miles, we were far enough into the backcountry to have rather high expectations. As we finally broke through the brush that separates the trail and stream, we were filled with anticipation of a good day ahead. Crimson bee balm brightened the scene even further.

I was already rigged and ready while my buddy Pat still had that task to do. Thus, I quickly eased into the first pool and made a few casts. A couple of wild rainbows inspected the fly, but overall they were surprisingly skittish. Or maybe I should have said suspiciously skittish. Backcountry trout are supposed to be pushovers. That's why we go to all this effort anyway. Still, the day was young and my expectations high. Moving up to the next pocket, I didn't expect much since it was fairly small. When I was greeted with no fish, I just assumed it was too small of a spot.

The third pocket had some potential but was also smack dab in the middle of a big sunny patch. When I drifted my flies through just right, one quality fish made a beeline for my flies before backpedaling and disappearing in the direction it had approached from. Things were definitely looking strange. 

By this time, Pat was rigged and ready so we started to leapfrog. Somewhere around this time, I finally got a small rainbow on my dropper nymph. Then, as I was sneaking past Pat to get to the next spot without spooking his fish, I saw my first clue in the form of water drops on the rocks. Paying careful attention, I found a few more. This was a person (or creature anyway) that knew how to move in water. The tracks were not obvious nor definitive. They could have just as easily been an otter as a human. Still, between the shy trout and the marks on the rocks, I was convinced we needed to adjust.

After consultation with Pat, we decided that the thing to do was to move to another nearby stream. That is always a good choice when it is feasible. We were lucky to be in an area with so much water. A short walk put us on some different water. While it wasn't fast and furious, we were soon finding enough fish to confirm our decision as the correct one.

Backcountry streams in the Smokies all fish similarly but each with its own unique character. These particular streams both have long sections of flatter water with some really great quality plunge pools mixed in. The flatter water is conducive to the occasional brown trout, but the majority of the residents are rainbows. Brook trout also turn up from time to time, becoming more numerous not more than a mile or two upstream from where we were fishing. On this day, I was destined to catch just rainbows, but some of them were memorable. 

We appear to be in the middle of another big fish cycle. Maybe not as much on the brown trout, but definitely on the rainbows and maybe brook trout as well. This is due in no small part to the multi year high annual precipitation event we've had for the last 3.5 or 4 years now. We have lost at least the majority of two age classes for the brown and brook trout due to high flows in the fall and winter. Rainbows have been impacted to at least some extent. The benefit is that we are now seeing some better than average fish. this is part of the natural ebb and flow of life on these streams. Some years the numbers are through the roof, but fish seem to average 5-7 inches. Other years the numbers seem slightly impacted, but the average size is a legitimate 8 or 9 inches.

The fishing was good but somewhere short of phenomenal. Those rare days where every fish seems to be eating any fly on the first cast don't come along too often, but on this day, fish would at least eat if the drift was right and you showed it to them a few times. In fact, I was surprised at how many drifts it took in some pools. 

One particularly good hole was producing lots of hits, but few hookups. I have always caught several fish in this pool and expected no less on this day. My buddy Pat was somewhere just downstream, so I had time to relax and really work the pool. My first several casts produced strikes but no fish. Yes, everyone misses fish on occasion but this is especially true in the Smokies. Eventually, I finally hooked one and realized the problem had been as much the small size of the 5 inch trout. Those little ones eat and also spit the hook back out the fastest making them tougher to hook than the nicer trout. 

Slowly I worked into the head of the pool. Throwing my dry/dropper rig right into the fastest water started yielding more promising takes. I think it was after the second or third trout to hand that the nice fish came up and all but ate my dry fly. Realizing that it was a trout I really wanted to hook, I settled down to show it as many different angles as possible. Finally, several casts later, it happened with the dry fly diving hard into the current. When I set the hook, I was attached to the big fish of the pool. Big on these streams usually means 8-10 inches. 

The fight was fairly short lived. Soon I was admiring a gorgeous wild rainbow that was clearly the top of the pecking order in this pool. I let the rainbow rest in my net while I fished the cellphone out of my pocket. A quick picture and the fish was back swimming in the pool again. These fish are too special to harvest, so all of mine go back.

Right as I looked up again, I noticed something interesting. Way over on the right side of the pool was a small current that curled around some rocks and over a shallow, rocky bottom before rejoining the main flow in the middle of the pool. It was the sort of spot I would generally ignore, especially with the bright sun overhead. Still, what I had seen was definitely a rise, and I'm a sucker for rising trout.

I worked some line back out and made the long cast and a quick mend upstream since I was fishing up and across the current. The correct move would have been to carefully cross the stream and fish from the right side, but I'm always up for a challenge. Right before the line started to drag in the middle of the pool, the dry fly slowly sucked under. I knew it had to be the rocks on the bottom, but out of habit, I set the hook anyway. This was one of those times that I was probably more surprised than the fish on the other end as a gorgeous rainbow exploded out of the water. 

I quickly fought the trout and repeated the process from the previous trout. In the net, rest, a quick picture, then back into the water to enjoy another day. Neither fish was out of the water more than a few seconds. Both will be healthy and there when I return unless someone else harvests them.

 

At this point, we had probably been fishing a grand total of an hour or so between the two streams. Certainly no more than an hour and a half. I was getting antsy though. With a newborn at home, I've been finding more and more excuses to get home fast at the end of a day. We continued leapfrogging upstream, but I had already caught my fish and was thinking more and more about getting back home. At this point, I was enjoying watching Pat catch fish as much or more than catching them myself. One particularly nice fish had me asking for a picture and he obliged. 

Finally, after one last really nice pool, I decided to take my leave. Pat was planning on fishing a little longer, so we parted ways, and I hit the trail for the hour walk back out. Getting back home in time to fix supper and relax was nice on my day off.

Lately, I've been getting the itch for another backcountry jaunt, perhaps with the backpack and making it an overnight. Then again, I might just spend more time at home. Either way, I enjoyed this opportunity to get into the Smoky Mountains backcountry for myself that is becoming rarer these days. Hopefully it will happen again soon!

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!

How Much Is Too Much?

Sitting around this evening, my wife told me that her mom had inquired about a hike we had recently done. When I asked my wife why her mom was suddenly interested, I found out something interesting. Apparently my mother-in-law had seen something about it on TV. Some news piece or something similar was done to highlight different out of the way hikes in the area. My first thought was oh great, another one ruined. 

One of my favorite local hikes and one of the best hikes on the Cumberland Plateau, Virgin Falls used to be an out of the way spot visited by just a few. Same thing with a few others I can think of both in our immediate area and beyond. Now, if you visit Virgin Falls on a weekend, be prepared to share the trail with anywhere from 50-200 of your new best friends and maybe even more. I've seen cars parked down the side of the road in both directions, damaging the shoulder, creating ruts, oh, and of course completely ruining the feeling of solitude that originally brought me to this amazing place.

I've seen the same problem explode in the Smokies. Last year was particularly bad, of course, as COVID sent many people into the outdoors where recreation was not only safer but often free or very low cost. That trend will continue for at least another year it would appear. But COVID really isn't the only one to blame for this problem. The issue of overcrowding was already a thing with Virgin Falls. In fact, it motivated Tennessee State Parks who oversees the area to institute a backpacking fee and permit process. The backcountry campsites were seeing horrendous overcrowding and the surrounding areas were getting trammeled by unconscientious, unlearned, and occasionally unscrupulous adventurers. 

The amount of trash both in the backcountry and also roadside has grown a lot as well. The sad thing with the increase in traffic is that not everyone has the same ideals of leave no trace. In fact, many people ignore it either purposefully or because they don't know any better. Piles of poo and tissue paper abound in the woods near backcountry campsites, while people let their dogs go right in the trail without bothering to clean up after their furry friends. Don't even get me started on the intentional garbage people leave because they don't want to carry out the wrappers their food came in or in extreme circumstances, that heavy tent. 

Yes, the great outdoors is being rapidly loved to death. Yet, during the discussion that motivated all of this, there was something nagging in the back of my mind. Even I am at least partially responsible for this. You see, I tell anyone and everyone about my favorite hikes, just the same as many tell people about their favorite fishing spots. I am always shocked at how many people will ask complete strangers on the internet about the best places to fish and will usually get back incredibly detailed responses on small out of the way trout streams. Yes, technology ultimately is to blame here, but we need to use more than a little self control and common sense.

The free flow of information has allowed people who would never set foot into the Smoky Mountain backcountry to learn about the glorious brook trout fishing found there and head off in search of their own photo op. Blogs like mine don't help. Those of you who have followed this blog for a long time have probably noticed a trend. Older posts contain more information than newer ones. I, along with many others who love wild places, noticed a little too late what all that free information was doing to the previously pristine places we treasure. Yet, information continues to get out.

A few years ago, the internet message boards were all the rage, and woe unto anyone who foolishly decided to hot spot. Never mind, of course, that this was usually done innocently. Some kind person really wanted to help someone else out. People quickly figured out the effects of doing so, and would chase the unfortunate person right off the board who dared to speak of such secret things. Now, all a person needs to do is join the right Facebook group, ask where to go, and some person who has been to stream X once with their cousin's best friend's uncle will pipe up with all the details. Never mind that they probably couldn't catch a cold once they got there. Still, the damage is done as armies of adventurers roam throughout previously untrammeled and untamed wilderness. 

Now, with the rise of click bait, large companies create websites with no more purpose than to answer the specific queries people enter into Google. They go and find some expert to write an article, pay them a little to kiss and tell, make sure the search engine optimization is done correctly, and sit back and enjoy the advertising revenue from all those people clicking their article. Yet, we all do it. And that is the trouble. How much is too much these days? Where do we draw the line in sharing information in a world awash in more information than anyone knows what to do with? Nowadays, we have facts and alternative facts, but in all the mess, wild places continue to suffer from overuse.

It is easy to go down the rabbit hole of asking how dare people fish my stream and hike my trail, but in reality I'm just another person out there adding to the congestion. At what point do we need to step back and add self imposed limits to lessen crowding issues? 

Yet, in it all, there exists much hope as well. With the massive influx of new interest in the outdoors comes the opportunity to convince that many more people that wild places are worth preserving. For fly fishing, we have huge issues with crowding that still have to sort themselves out. At the same time, all of these new converts are more people to advocate for clean air and clean water. Ultimately, all of us suffer if those things are gone. As earth's population continues to soar, it is becoming more and more crucial that we figure out how to balance our desire for wilderness with the footprints we leave. With more people becoming interested, we have an even greater opportunity for positive change.

The one thing we can all do now is, admittedly, somewhat selfish. We can go back to the days when hot spotting was a huge taboo. One of the greatest joys of nature is to explore. When you find your own hidden paradise, you can imagine at least briefly that you have your own secret. When a spot comes to you through a social media tag and you're just there to get your own selfie, it really isn't yours. The hidden spots, the ones you've worked diligently for, those are your spots. The only way they'll stay that way is if you keep them to yourself. 

In fly fishing, as with other parts of life, there is always the tendency to tell one close friend or family member. Of course, they share with just one close friend or family member as well, but eventually the secret leaks out. I have fishing buddies that I share lots of general info with, then I have a very small handful of friends who I share the true secrets with. Those are the ones who I know really will keep it under their hat. Nowadays, there really aren't that many secrets left. And this brings us back to the question: how much is too much? At what point do we draw the line, or should we even draw one, when it comes to sharing about the great outdoors?