The Isonychia bicolor

As we head into the heat of summer, Smoky Mountain anglers should begin adjusting to the changing conditions. The banner hatches of April and early May are giving way to the yellow and cream insects of summer. Most anyone who regularly fishes in the Park can tell you that yellow is the color to fish this time of year. There is of course, as with most things, an exception and a significant one at that.

The Isonychia bicolor (Slate Drakes) mayfly is arguably as important as the famed Yellow Sallies that everyone is trying to match. The interesting thing about this hatch is that, at least in many places, the nymph is the only important stage that fishermen need concern themselves with. One very notable exception to this is the Hiwassee River where the duns emerge mid stream and fishing from a drift boat can produce excellent action during the hatch. However, on the mountain streams, Isonychias generally crawl out onto the rocks in and around the stream and hatch out of the water. That means the fish rarely see a dun and the spinner falls are only rarely important, at least during legal fishing hours.

Earlier this week, I found large quantities of shucks on one of my local smallmouth bass streams and eventually a gorgeous dun that was still sitting on the rock it hatched on. Here, you can see the shucks where the nymphs crawled out of the water to hatch. The second picture is a newly hatched dun.

These are large bugs, often a size #8 or #10 and the fish react accordingly. In the Smokies, trout will often take a nymph imitation when nothing else is seeming to work. In fact, one of the better brown trout I caught last summer ate my own Isonychia pattern.

If you don't have your own secret pattern, a Prince nymph does a reasonably decent job at imitating these bugs as well as a variety of commercially available Isonychia nymphs that you should be able to find at your local fly shop. Want to take a stab at my favorite, an Isonychia Soft Hackle? Here is a picture and a recipe.

David Knapp's Isonychia Soft Hackle

Hook: #8-#12 TMC 5262 or 3671 (I use mostly #10-#12)
Weight: .020 Lead-free wire
Thread: Black 8/0
Tail: Brown hackle fibers
Body: Several strands of peacock fibers, twisted together for durability
Rib/Gills: Gray ostrich herl
Back/Stripe: Pearl or silver Flashabou or small pearl tinsel
Hackle: Speckled Brown Soft Hackle Hen Saddle patch feather (2-3 turns)

Tying directions: Add wire first and then start thread and cover the wire with a thread base. Tie in tail and then flash. Tie in ostrich and then peacock herl. Wind peacock herl forward, adding more if you need it to get a nice full body. Tie off. For added durability, wind thread back and forth over body several times. The thread will bite into the herl and should be mostly invisible but it will help hold the body together once fish start chewing on it. Next, palmer the ostrich herl forward and tie off. Pull flash strip over back and tie off behind the head. Finally, tie in soft hackle feather, wrap 2-3 turns depending on how thick the fibers are, and tie off. Whip finish and add a small drop of glue to the head and you are done!

How to fish

When fishing an Isonychia nymph pattern, you need to understand the naturals. The nymph is an active swimmer. This means that your normal dead drift is fine, but if that isn't working, try changing it up by adding a jigging motion with your rod tip or swinging the fly at the end of each drift. Some of the best trout that I've caught in the Smokies have come on an Isonychia nymph pattern so try one out this summer on the Little River or other larger Park stream and see if you agree that this is one of the most important hatches of the summer. 

The Boulder Garden

Smallmouth on the Cumberland Plateau are coming on strong now. Our weather is always a bit cooler than down in the lowlands so the local fish are not as far along as fish down around Knoxville and Chattanooga. However, with the recent hot dry weather, fishing has improved rapidly and it is time to get out and enjoy the remote creeks and rivers.

This past Sunday, after cooking a Mothers' Day breakfast for my mom, I took off for an afternoon of visiting a local favorite. This stream is remote and flows through some of the most rugged terrain in Cumberland County. The plan was to explore a stretch I fish a fair amount and have even guided on occasionally.

Driving through the country side, I noticed that we are transitioning rapidly to late spring/early summer flowers.

Photograph or painting?

Later, along the stream, I saw that spring favorites like the Pinkster Azalea were just about finished although a few held on in shady spots.

The last few blooms on the Pinkster Azalea were beautiful.

When I started fishing, it became apparent that the rock bass were hungry since I caught several right away. In the past, I would usually take this as a sign that the smallmouth were not feeding very well, but I persevered and kept progressing upstream. 

Supposedly some musky have been stocked on this local creek so I carried two rods: a four weight rigged with a small Clouser for the smallmouth and a seven weight with a wire bite guard and much larger fly for the possibility of a musky. Most of the water in this stretch is too shallow to be considered prime musky water but I did probe the depths of a few seriously deep pools but to no avail. Either the musky were stocked in a different section or they weren't showing themselves on this day.

The insect life along the river was intriguing on this particular trip. I did not find any golden stonefly shucks yet but the Isonychias (Slate Drakes) are hatching in good numbers based on the shucks. A dun sitting on a rock stuck around to have its picture taken so I shot a few before moving along.

The smallmouth started to get active though. As I moved farther away from the access point, the action improved rapidly but of course no surprise there. Towards the top end of the section I like to fish is what I can best describe as a huge boulder garden. Just below the boulder garden lies two fantastic pools where I have seen nice smallmouth in the past. Happy to have already caught a few smallmouth, I was surprised to see a big fish (for this stream) race over to crush my Clouser shortly after it hit the water. Last summer I spooked this fish a few times but never could seal the deal. On this day, things just worked out. The four weight rod got a serious and unexpected workout, but soon I was admiring a gorgeous fish.

Not long after, another nice fish came out of the same hole.

Those two fish ensured that this would be a memorable trip, but I decided to push my luck a little. The Boulder Garden is a section of river that flows under a high cliff face that drops huge chunks or rock into the river. Looking towards it from either up or downstream, it appears that the creek just vanishes into the rocks.

One other time, I had scouted a line across the boulders part way through, but since I was feeling lucky, I decided to brave the snakes and other dangers to maneuver through this whole section. Nervously hoping I wouldn't come across a rattler or copperhead, I moved painstakingly through and across the rocks, looking over, under, and around all obstacles before stepping or reaching out with my hand. Finally, I was through! A whole new stretch of water opened before me, flowing away into the depths of wilderness. 

Few people ever see this stretch, and I guarantee that the fish are some of the most unpressured in the area. The fishing was accordingly very easy. I spotted a nice bass holding near the head of a pool. One cast, three quick strips, and it was fish on. This must be what it was like to fish these streams 200 years ago. In addition to the fishing, I had to document my progress. The camera was employed in taking some shots of the beautiful scenery. Looking upstream, the water beckoned to further exploration, but that would have to wait for another day.

The shadows were growing longer, and I don't like pushing my luck on these remote waters. If you head out too late, I guarantee you will find more snakes and other critters. Lots of fresh hog tracks lined the stream, and I didn't care to spook a herd of those either.

Back at the car, I got the usual strange looks from the locals at the swimming hole as I wandered out of the woods in camo carrying two fly rods. This time, however, I was spared the usual question of "Are there trout in here?"

My Boulder Garden adventure is hopefully the first of many. I'm excited to see what other adventures are in store for me there!

Fishing With Dad

Last week, I had a great opportunity to fish with my dad, but it was a chance that almost didn't happen. On Tuesday, I decided that I wanted to fish on Wednesday and based on how well the Monday guide trip went, I knew I had to get out on the Caney Fork. After a couple of texts to friends to see if any of them were free or wanted to ditch work, I figured I could check with my dad. At this point, it is important to emphasize that he really doesn't fish. Yes, he does enjoy going along with me from time to time, but getting him to actually go fishing is another thing. When he agreed to go along, I was pleasantly surprised to say the least and even more so when he agreed to fish on the trip!

After a late night run to Walmart for a fishing license, we were ready for the next morning. A breakfast of waffles had me fueled up for a few hours of rowing, and when we threw some sandwiches and sides into the cooler along with some water, we were ready to go. Before long, we were dumping the boat and ready to float.

I gave my dad the quick lecture on how to cast and then got him fishing. As is normal with most beginner fly fishermen, it took some time to figure out the whole "hook set" thing. I was using the boat to help achieve long drifts, subtly dipping an oar here or there to keep everything moving steadily and without drag. Several times, the indicator shot under and one fish even found itself briefly hooked, but still a fish in the net eluded us.

Finally, I changed up patterns, adjusted the indicator, and not too long after we saw the indicator go down yet again. This time, dad came tight on a feisty rainbow trout that found its way into the net. Posing for a quick picture took a few seconds, and I soon had proof that my dad went fishing. The fish was freed to be caught again another day, and we continued drifting.

One fish down helped a lot. Once that pressure is removed, it allows everyone to relax and most people fish better without too much pressure. Dad was soon in a groove, catching fish and remembering to carefully count, announcing each one before it even hit the net. I reminded him that he couldn't count fish until they were landed, but of course he told me that he was going to land them all. Can't argue with that!

Eventually, we got to a shady spot to eat our sandwiches and potato salad. After a delicious lunch, I hopped out of the rower's seat and waded up to the top of a shoal that always holds fish. Working the Sage Accel 904-4, I made a long cast to the middle of the river. Soon the indicator dipped and when the fish flashed I briefly panicked. Thankfully, the next flash convinced me it was not quite as large but still a beautiful holdover. My dad did a fantastic job on the net as I fought the fish down to where the boat waited and then again with the camera. What a rainbow trout!

I jumped back behind the oars and my dad quickly resumed catching fish. One promising spot was good enough to anchor on for a few minutes so we both fished. I climbed into the back of the boat and dad was in front. A few casts later, we landed our first double!

After the double, I started rowing again since the water would start coming up before too long. I didn't want to get caught with rising water at the boat ramp. Almost immediately, my dad hooked another trout. The pink stripe was so gorgeous and the fins so healthy that I took a quick shot before I let it go and then one of dad fishing out of the front of the boat.

One final spot called for us to anchor up so stopped the boat and we both fished again. My last fish of the day was a gorgeous 14 inch brown trout that fought like a much larger fish.

At this point, my dad was quickly closing in on around 20 trout for the day. Somewhere around 16 or 17 we both lost track but when he caught a few more we decided it must be 20 and probably more. I was impressed with how quickly he caught on and started catching a lot of fish. He was probably getting tired of my "coaching" (hey, it is hard to quit guiding), and I could tell from his casting that he was getting tired. Most people who are not used to fly fishing get tired after a long day in the hot sun catching lots of fish. He hung in until right at the end but thankfully the ramp was just ahead. We pulled the boat out just as the water started to rise and were soon enjoying the air conditioned car on the ride home.

Dad got a year long license so I'm sure I'll convince him to get out on the water with me again. You don't want to waste all that money after all!

Sunday Closeup

This week is shaping up to be just about perfect. I'll be taking some time to spend with friends and also fish for myself. I don't get that luxury as often now that I'm guiding. Today I kicked things off with my first local smallmouth trip of 2015. The trip was incredible in so many ways. Until I digest it a bit further and actually take the time to write about it, here is a closeup of one from today that is my best fish to date from this creek.

Spring on the Cumberland Plateau

Spring is my second favorite time of year, only barely edged out by my top favorite, fall. Yes, I love the transition seasons although summer and fall are both great as well. Summer gets a little hot and muggy and of course winter produces some slower fishing at times (although not always), but all of the seasons have their own charm. This year, spring has been glorious.

Starting out cool and wet in March and early April, we have finally transitioned into late spring. Bass are on the beds along with bluegill and shellcracker, at least up here on the Plateau. In the mountains, early spring hatches of dark colored bugs have given way to the lighter shades of summer. Most of the trees have finally leafed out although some are still getting going in that department.

One of my favorite things about spring and fall is being able to hike comfortably without experiencing the extreme temperatures of the other two seasons. Last Saturday I headed to a favorite local hike. Brady Mountain has a segment of the Cumberland Trail that climbs steeply from a trailhead on highway 68 until reaching the higher elevations on top of the mountain.

While the steepness of the mountain side can make the hike a daunting challenge, the solitude and views gained from the top make it a worth while hike. In the spring, wildflowers reign. The late afternoon sunlight filtering through the fresh green of spring made for some beautiful sights in the woods. Here are some pictures from my hike this past weekend.

Be Bug Aware

Today, while out guiding, I had an experience that reinforced the importance of really paying attention to what is going on while you are out on the water if you want to be successful fly fishing. We were fishing Little River through some fantastic mayfly weather. You know the type: cloudy, cool, and wet at times. With rain gear on we were staying pretty dry, but as might be expected the bugs were struggling to get off of the water which meant that the trout were feasting heavily.

When we first got to the edge of the water, I knotted on a #16 Sulfur Parachute. With a few sulfurs on the water, that seemed like an obvious choice. Within a couple of casts the first fish ate and was quickly landed and released. We then moved up just a little in the pool to cast to more risers. A few fish hit but somehow missed the hook, and after another 10 minutes we realized that the number of strikes had dwindled even though the fish were still eating something.

Putting my face down to the water didn't help much other than to confirm there were microscopic midges, but I was convinced the fish weren't eating those for the most part. The takes were too boisterous. Squinting a little, I saw some little bugs. Blue-winged olives were hatching. Using the larger sulfur to help find the little bug seemed like a smart strategy so I added 6x tippet to the bend of the hook on the #16 and added a tiny #20 Parachute BWO dry fly. Immediately we were back in business. This went on for several fish and culminated in the largest fish of the day, a wild rainbow that easily went 12 inches which is a nice fish for the Park.

Jack with a beautiful wild rainbow.

However, shortly after the big rainbow, the hits became few and far between again. We moved to another pool and again quickly caught a fish on the combo rig we had been fishing, but after several refusals on both the BWO and the sulfur, it was clear that we needed to make a change. The fish were rising vigorously and it was apparent why when we simply glanced around. Big yellow pale evening duns were hatching, and because of the rain were having a hard time getting airborne. A quick adjustment had us back in fish in a short time that culminated in a healthy 10-11 inch brown as the last fish of the day. However, this story would have been over by the end of the second paragraph above if we had not made adjustments. Instead, we figured out what the fish wanted and played the game.

If you are seeing fish rising but getting refusals, take time to sit back and watch. This is where a guide can really help since they can focus on figuring out what the fish are eating while you focus on watching your flies. If you do not want to hire a guide, then just stop casting and watch the fish for a bit. Put your face down near the water, look in the air around you. Eventually something will click and you will pull out the right fly and be into fish again. Don't stick with a fly just because it worked last time. Every fish is a new puzzle and that is one of the things that makes this sport beautiful. If it was too easy we would all give up soon.

Variety

There is a lake nearby that I've been fishing off and on for a few years. Despite a lot of pressure, it seems to always produce something, even if it is just big bluegill and redear sunfish. The lake is managed for quality bass fishing and in the winter it receives a stocking of trout. Oh, and it has a boat ramp, one that I've never used.

All of my previous forays have been on foot. The lake is relatively accessibly to the shore angler and there is something fun to me about sneaking around a lake with a fly rod and trying to quietly approach fish near the banks for a good presentation. Naturally, as soon as I got the boat last year, I started to wonder how the lake would fish if I could really get around and chase the fish properly. Fast forward to last week when a friend mentioned that they would be passing through and wanted to do a little fishing. I saw a great opportunity to get out and do some exploring and also have a good time catching fish.

When we dumped the boat in at the ramp, the first thing I noticed was a steady breeze out of the southwest. Wanting to row to the southwest end of the lake, I mentally prepared myself to fight the wind. Soon we were moving along nicely. I anchored up a bit off shore so he could tie on a lure. 

While he was busy, I started using one of the 3 fly rods I had along. A four weight, five weight, and seven weight would allow me to fish a variety of flies and hopefully target different fish. The four weight had a small bead head Simi Seal Leech, the five weight had a Clouser Minnow, and the 7 weight had a Diamond Hair Minnow in rainbow trout colors. Those bass grow big by feasting on the leftover stockers in the spring as the water warms.

After fishing a few minutes, I started rowing again and at our next stop, I quickly caught two small bass on the leech. Soon my buddy Alex was convinced to try the fly rod. After a brief description of the cast, he was casting well enough to catch fish and we kept fishing. Over the next 30 minutes, I found another bass, this one nice enough for a quick picture, and Alex lost or missed several fish including at least one nice trout and several bass. Thankfully he finally caught a good bluegill before he could get too frustrated.

We continued on around the lake, and eventually Alex caught the trout he was looking for which was his first ever as well as first on a fly rod obviously.

I rowed for the most part although when a particularly good section of bank would come along, down went the anchor and I fished the Clouser, catching a few nice bass in the process.

Finally, it was getting late. Alex had a long drive back home ahead of him so we headed back out. I'm sure he will be back because, when we finished, he told me that it "was the best fishing I've had in a long time!" I know for sure I'll be back. I never did find those big torpedo shaped bass that will chase the rainbow trout. The variety is also fun, and I can't wait to try it again!

If you are interested in a guided trip here, please contact me at (931) 261-1884 or via email at TroutZoneAnglers@gmail.com.

Prime Dates Still Open

If you have been thinking about a guided fly fishing trip in the Smokies, do not delay too long. The calendar is really filling up although I still have some of the best days of possibly the entire year available during the first week in May. Right now, I have Tuesday through Friday available, May 5-8. I do have some scattered dates available the rest of the month for weekdays. That is great if your goal is for good fishing as weekdays will see smaller crowds and less pressured fish. If you are interested in a guided fly fishing trip, contact me today to discuss details and trip options. Email is the best option at TroutZoneAnglers@gmail.com or you can call/text (931) 261-1884. The first option is more reliable as I'm often out of cell service guiding.

This has been a banner spring so far with some very good dry fly fishing at times and consistent nymph fishing most of the time. Fish are fat and healthy and looking for a meal. Bugs are hatching well now although May is usually considered the very best month for fishing in the Smokies. Don't miss out!

Crossing the Ridge

Fishing trips are often planned, and of course those are generally the most successful. Poring over maps, imagining every possible eventuality and planning for it, tying lots of flies to match whatever you expect to hatch, all of these add up to create the perfect trip. Then there are those other trips, the spur of the moment "decide as you go" type trips. Flexibility may not always generate the best fishing, but sometimes it can. Of course, since you cannot pursue both options simultaneously and independently, it is impossible to know which course of action would have give you a better trip, but if you ask me, spontaneity is good for the soul at least occasionally.

Last week, a planned two-day fishing trip to sample the spring fishing for myself was cut short. That was all fine and good since the reason was morning guide trip the first day. Seeing an opportunity to pay a few bills and pay for the trip as well, I reasoned that giving up a morning of my own fishing trip was not a bad price. As a guide, I have to take trips when I can get them.

The original plan was to camp at Elkmont, and with the guide trip in the morning that seemed like an even better idea. I didn't account for the spring break crowd though. Driving through the campground in mid afternoon, I discovered that all sites were full except for one or two handicap accessible sites. Technically those are first come first served for anyone once the rest of the campground fills up, but I don't like crowds and decided to go with the flow.

My backup plan became Smokemont on the other side of the Park. Crossing the ridge into North Carolina, I enjoyed the excellent views from the top before rolling down the hill to the campground. The campground was probably only half full which, while still not perfect, is a lot better than what I saw on the Tennessee side.

The tent was put up in short order, and I got organized with my gear. Guide rods were disassembled and or the rigging modified to suit my fishing needs for the next 24 hours. When the pack of 1x leaders turned up missing because they were sitting safely back home, I simply cut back a leader and then extended it with 1x tippet to make a suitable streamer leader. The nine foot four weight rod was outfitted with a dry/dropper consisting of a #12 Parachute Adams and a bead head caddis pupa of my own design in size 14.

Carrying both rods, I strolled down through the campground with the plan of fishing back up to camp. The light was only going to last so long and I wasn't wasting any of it by hiking or driving to fish.

In an hour or so of fishing, I had two good tugs on the Olive Sculpin that was on the streamer rod and caught a couple of little fish on the four weight. The water was a tad lower than ideal for streamer fishing so I focused more on the lighter rod after the first good pool. Back near camp, a kind gentleman offered a bit of advice and told me that a dropper would probably help my fishing. I smiled and thanked him for his generosity and advice.

A sudden craving reminded me why camping at Smokemont is so nice: Cherokee, North Carolina has a Taco Bell a short distance away! Normally, once I immerse myself in the calm of nature, I won't return to "civilization" until absolutely necessary, but on this occasion, it seemed like the thing to do. Flexibility tasted delicious.

Awakening early the next day, I was on the water well before the sun came up over the ridge. One good fish that I've been chasing for a while gave a half hearted tap on the streamer and was gone. A switch to white in the form of a PB&J produced better results. Shortly after switching, I nailed one of the fish I missed the previous evening. Further down I was chased by a goose and missed another trout. Talk about high adventure! Since the goose didn't quite catch up with me, I soon realized that I was still alive and vowed to keep a close on the large birds in the future.

Getting hungry, I found my way back to camp and discovered that the camp stove that I had "packed" wasn't actually there. Never assume that your camp stove is in a bag just because you glance in and see canisters of fuel. Another quick trip into town for breakfast soon had me fueled up, and shortly thereafter I found myself at the chosen North Carolina trailhead ready to hike in for the day's fishing in the Smokies.

Determined to fish new-to-me water, I set a good pace until the wildflowers distracted me. Stopping for a while with my camera, I enjoyed the show. Flexibility was gorgeous I must say.

About the time I was finishing with the pictures, a couple of guys came down the trail. Having talked to them in camp the evening before, I knew they had fished up above that morning. They reported slow fishing with the high water levels of spring making the catching tough. Wondering if I had made the right decision, sticking with the plan seemed like the thing to do although I had misgivings. Not too far upstream, a perfect pocket called for my dry fly so I decided to try and pick off a fish.

After a few drifts, I hooked what turned out to be a very solid rainbow and the theme of the day would begin to establish itself: decent numbers of fish with the nicer fish generally (though not always) taking the dry fly and coming from the obvious prime lies. After a quick picture, the rainbow swam away to be caught on my next trip hopefully.

Moving up the stream was a challenge. The water was a bit higher than I often like to wade. Wet wading kept me from doing anything stupid since the water was cold enough that I wouldn't get in too deep. Still, if I could find a good pocket or slick, I was generally rewarded with a fat trout.

An interesting pattern began to develop when I hooked my 10th trout of the day, a nice brown, on a dry fly. Significant numerical milestones for fish caught were also turning out to be nicer than average trout. Fish number 20, 25, and 30 continued that pattern before finally being broken at trout number 35.

While I was catching a lot of fish, the actual catch rate was not what I would call excellent. Good perhaps but not excellent. Having experienced days in the Smokies where 20-25 fish an hour are legitimately possible, averaging 7-10 fish an hour is probably a bit more realistic for normal conditions on a backcountry stream. Putting in a long day on the water was the recipe for a lot of fish on this trip. The fish I was catching were beautiful. Here are a couple of the prettier fish I caught during the day. Look at the blue dot on the cheek of that brown and the bright colors on the rainbow.

In between catching fish, I also paused and took time to enjoy the scenery. Admittedly, I generally remembered to relax after catching a nice trout, but at least I was relaxing!

By the time I was getting close to 40 trout, the clouds were looking darker and an occasional rumble of thunder sent me back down the trail. After a quick dose of rain, I stopped and caught a few more trout to bring me up to 40 fish exactly for the day. Rarely do I ever keep track of numbers, but occasionally I like to see how many I'm actually catching. On this trip where flexibility ruled, I was somehow able to keep track of the numbers. Normally I forget after fish number five or six and just give up. Possibly that is a sign of getting older. My brain is apparently not high powered enough anymore to keep track of the details of a well-planned trip and the number of fish I'm catching. 

Back at the car, a quick check of the time told me there was still hours of daylight left to fish. The morning and early afternoon had featured rainbow and brown trout so a quick stop for brook trout seemed like the logical next step in my fishing adventure. Crossing back over the ridge, I settled for some roadside water that gets a fair amount of pressure and lucked into a stretch that had obviously not been fished that day or for a while. Both rainbows and brook trout rose willingly to the dry fly although the dropper was getting more action at this higher altitude.

Frustration flared briefly when I snagged a couple of hungry tree branches, but thankfully I was able to retrieve my flies. Finally, realizing that I had been fishing for 12+ hours, it dawned on my why I was getting tired. Whenever I start to lose my edge on the stream, I know that I'm getting tired. In this instance, I didn't have to fall on my butt to realize I was getting tired so I guess tangling some flies in the tree is not so bad after all. Quitting is always the smart thing at this point, either temporarily to refuel and rehydrate or for the day. With another 30 trout caught on this stream, I was ready to call it a day. The walk back to my car was a splendid last dose of fresh mountain air before the drive home. 

Relaxed from my trip, I realized I was not in the same rush as the day before. Instead of passing the slow cars, I found myself pulling off to let the faster people pass me on the curvy roads. Eventually, as the sky was getting dark, I was driving out of the foothills. When I got home, I was soon in bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

My next trip to the mountains will probably be planned with the meticulous detail that accompanies the majority of my excursions. Then again, I had so much fun on my spontaneous trip that I just might have to do it again.

If you are interested in a guided fly fishing trip in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee or North Carolina, please call or text me (David Knapp) at (931) 261-1884 or email me at TroutZoneAnglers@gmail.com. I can also be reached through the Contact Me page at Trout Zone Anglers. I offer both front country and backcountry fishing trips. Backcountry trips are generally only full day trips but offer anglers the chance to fish less pressured water like I did on this trip. The results are often more and sometimes even larger trout.