Smallmouth again

First fish of the day - a scrappy smallmouth caught on top

 

My good buddy Mike and I haven't had much time to fish together the last couple years.  They had a little girl 3 years ago and my wife and I had our little boy a year ago so needless to say kitchen passes have been scarce lately.  Well we both had one for all day Sunday so we headed out to a smallmouth river that he'd been on only once and I'd never been on.  We had wanted to fish this stream for years ever since we saw old photos of long stringers of big smallmouth from this stream in an old country store nearby.

He promised beautiful scenery and if it was anything like he remembered there would be plenty of smallmouth to cast our lures and flies to.  Whether or not we caught any was not guaranteed of course, but it never is.  And that's why I've always enjoyed fishing (and hunting) with Mike.  He's not one to get bent out of shape if we don't catch anything or if things don't go as planned.  I've fished with guys like that before.  I try not to but somehow every once in a while I do.  I always wondered why those guys fished in the first place.  I figure if you're going to get pissy about your recreational activity not going right you might as well have a hobby that's worth getting pissy about when it doesn't go as planned... like skydiving for instance.

We wanted to take only one truck so we got a local canoe rental company to shuttle our vehicle.  We couldn't get them to shuttle the truck until after 9:00AM, a little late for starting a fishing trip especially this time of year.  They obviously weren't as excited about our kitchen passes as we were.  But the weather was actually very pleasant... high's were in the low 80's and off and on overcast.  My thermometer showed the water was a cool 76-78 degrees depending on how close to one of the many springs we were standing.  Can't ask for more than that in early September around here.

The river was full of these crayfish

Mike was right.  It was one of the most beautiful streams I've been on in middle Tennessee.  And it was the PERFECT smallmouth river.  It had clear, cool water full of crayfish, and goodlooking runs, riffles, and deep holes one after another.  I don't think anyone could have made a better smallmouth stream from their imagination. 

 

Most of my fish were smallmouth just like this one

I started out on top water with a foam gurgler type fly.  Did OK with it for a while but we started getting into deeper runs and I wanted to get down to the fish so I switched to a cayfish pattern with heavy dumbbell eyes.  That fly fished well until I lost it on a log across a section of stream that was too dangerous to cross.  It's funny how you contimplate those things.  You start looking at all the ways to get your fly back, most involve dangerous and crazy stunts.  Then finally you come to your senses (sometimes) and remember, it's just 2 dollars for crying out loud!  Let it go!  So I did... and tied on a slumpbuster in colors as closly matching the crayfish in that river as I could.  Caught a few but ended up going back to the crayfish pattern that worked well earlier.  Thankfully I had more than one with me.

 

This was my best fish of the day - It doesn't look it in the picture but it was almost as big as Mikes... No really, it was.

 

Towards the evening the fishing started heating up again.   We found a long, wide stretch of shallow riffle water where fish were feeding.  As we canoed through we could see smallmouth dart from out in front of the boat.  We anchored, got out and started fishing.  Mike found a small deep impression along the bank.  Didn't look like much but evidently the fish liked it.  I don't remember how many redeye and smallmouth he pulled out of that one small spot but it was a lot; including one nice smallmouth that had his ultralight spinning rod bent almost double.

We timed the trip just right and got to the take out at just about dark.  I threw a few "last" casts right there where we were taking out and was able to pull one more smallie out of the river.   We didn't exactly slay 'em but as always we had a great time.  It was an awesome day on a beautiful smallmouth river with a great buddy.

  

 

Mike with the best fish of the day

Caney Fork with my brother... Finally!

My brother came up to Tennessee from Florida for my son's first birthday party.  To sweeten the deal I told him I'd take him fly fishing on the Caney if he came up. He's fished the small streams of east TN often but hasn't fished tailwaters much at all.  One of his first questions was if we'd catch fish that were bigger than the wild trout we catch up on North River.  I promised him we would.  I called my good friend and guide, Jeff Barrett, to see if he could take us in the drift boat.  With a little schedule rearranging it was set.  Since we only had one day to fish I wanted to make the most of it.  I wanted my brother and I to worry about nothing but fishing.  And that's what we did.  Yeah, OK, there was a little bit of selfishness on my part too... with me getting so little fishing time in over the past year or two I wanted to make sure that I got some time to fish too instead of being a "guide".  Not that my brother isn't a good fly fisherman - it's just that this is a totally new kind of water for him.  Yeah, I wanted to fish and let Jeff do the guide thing.   HEY, to make up for my selfishness I did give my brother the front of the boat ALL DAY.  Jeff is a great guide and the drift boat is the the way to go. 

The fishing was good in the morning with many strikes and a good number of fish on zebra midges dead drifted under an indicator.  But once they started generating mid-morning it slowed way down. We threw some streamers during the high water but didn't have sinking lines so it was pretty much in vain.  So we ate our lunches and waited it out.  Once the water dropped (which seemed to take forever) we starting picking up fish again. All mine came on either zebra midges or a beadhead Eat at Chucks.

Kevin with a nice brown

Kevin's brown close up

I was able to get a "grand slam"... Brown, Rainbow, and Brookie.  I did get two nice brookies, one first thing in the morning and one in the afternoon after the water came back down. 

The highlight of my day, besides seeing my older brother catch fish bigger than the ones we catch in the mountains, was a 16" brown trout that I caught by sight casting to him.  I was walking along the gravel bank downstream to where Jeff and Kevin were fishing when I saw a nice brown feeding right up against the bank.  He was pointed down stream and just slowly cruising, picking things off the bottom as he went.  I backed up off the bank to keep from spooking him and cast my purple softhackle out in front of him.  Well, it evidently wasn't far enough out in front because he spooked as soon as the fly hit the water.  Luckily he went back to feeding only a few seconds later but this time he was in the usual facing up stream position.  It took about 3 more casts or so but once I got it in the right spot and made a drag free drift he took it like he hadn't eaten in a week.  He put a nice bend in the Bamboo rod.  I was fishing a rod made by Don Recker; his version of the Dickerson 8013.  This is a powerful bamboo rod and easily throws multi-rigs and indicators that we need to use so often on tailwaters.  Don makes a fantastic, beautifully finished rod  and in my opinion worth much more than he sells them for.

16" brown that I watched feeding in shallow water

 

Second brookie of the day.

Towards the end of the day just up river from our take out the fish started to really feed and rising everywhere! We anchored mid-river and took a good number of fish on midges and soft hackles, specifically a bead-headed Eat at Chucks.

Catching up.... or maybe starting all over again

Well, when they say having a kid will change your life... they aren't kidding.  Our son was born August of last year and my fishing has been drastically reduced.  Not that I'm complaining.  It's been the most wonderful year of my life!  Watching him grow this first year of his life has brought so much joy that's it's really impossible for me to express.  For those of you that are parents I'm sure you know just what I mean.

However, I have been able to get to a river or stream a few times since then.  But getting back on the computer to blog about it has been another challenge.  Things are easier now as we are finally figuring out all this "parent" stuff (I think, maybe).  I'll post some pics and a few words from a few of the trips since last August.  And maybe I'll be able to stay on top of the blog and reports for a while.  Stay tuned...

Hanging out with Dad

The Smokies with water this time

The club had our July outing in the GSMNP. The weather couldn't have been better and the water levels were great. Which was a nice change from the previous two years. However the fishing wasn't as easy as it normally is up there. I don't know if the lack of water the years before had reduced the fish numbers or if the cooler weather had slowed them down. We still caught fish and had a great time as you tend to do in the presence of good company no matter how the fishing is.

I shared a campsite with two of my buddies that love small stream trout fishing like I do; Woody and Jim.  I got there late Thursday night and they had already been enjoying the campfire for a few hours and even got some fishing in earlier that evening.

Woody stalking a Little River pool

The standard smoky mountain patterns worked well as they a normally do.  Woody and I used our Thramer DX bamboo rods.  His a 7 foot and mine a 7 1/2 foot, both 4 weights.  I also used my Don Recker "Dickerson 8013" on the West Prong of the Little Pigeon.   Other than that we normally fished the Little River above Elkmount where we were camping.
 

A little River brown

Some wildflowers were still hanging on

A rainbow from the Little Pigeon

Collecting fly tying materials - the fun way

10" beard, 1" spurs, and double beard

My buddy Mike and I decided to hunt down some turkey feathers.   Neither of us are serious turkey hunters but we do enjoy it on occasion.  Normally, Spring weekends find me on a river or stream somewhere with a fly rod in hand but this particular morning the generation schedule on the Caney Fork wasn't friendly to fly fishing or at least certainly not wading.  So we dusted off the shotguns, pulled out the camo and hit the woods on a family friends farm about 30 min from the house.  We saw and heard a number of birds.  Called... called some more.  Then called again.  Set up the decoys, then called again.  We tromped all over the hillside chasing these birds.  Finally we heard a hot gobbler and a couple jakes across a creek on the neighbors property... and they were coming our way.  We quickly set up with Mike closer to the decoys.  I wanted him to get the first shot since last time we hunted turkeys he called and I shot the bird.  Well, things don't always go as planned.  He still did most of the calling since he is a much better caller than I but the birds circled wide and didn't give him a shot.  The big tom circled way wide and didn't give either of us a shot.  He went around the other side of the knoll we were on and out of sight.  The jakes were out in front of me but I held off shooting; for one thing they were just a little farther than I felt comfortable (remember I don't turkey hunt much) and I really thought they were going to start working back over towards the decoys and right in front of Mike.  Instead they stayed out in front of me for a short while and then headed back over the creek and away from us.  About that time the big gobbler came back around.  This time I think he saw the decoys and started towards them.  But at about 40 yards out in front of me he started to get nervous and looking my way. I knew he wasn't going to make it over to give Mike a shot.  It was now or never... so I took the shot.  He went down immediately. 

Mike took the primary wing feathers to use for fletchings on his arrows.  He shoots selfbows and wood or rivercane shafts.  And I took the rest of feathers for some of our favorite flies.  We split that delicious turkey meat!

Thanks again Mike!

Greenbriar rainbows and bamboo - April 2009

Back this past April my good buddy and guide Jeff Barrett and I went over the the Smokies to be river helpers for the CFR event. We left a day early to do a little fishing ourselves. Neither of us had ever fished Greenbriar so we decided it was about time. Weather was nice. A few bugs hatched - mostly small stoneflies - and the fish were taking dries. I fished my AJ Thramer 7 1/2' 4 wt DX taper.  I've come to love this rod for small stream fishing.  It can throw a dry/dropper combo without any problem and is just just a joy to cast. 

It was a great day. All we caught were rainbows but no complaints.  We never got up high enough to get into brookie water.  We saved that for next time.

Jeff working some pocket water

A colorful rainbow tricked with a parachute Adams

Smallies on the long rod

I love catching smallmouth bass on the fly rod. They hit the fly HARD, fight better than any largemouth ever thought about, and will jump like wild rainbows. Growing up in Florida I'd never caught a smallmouth until after I moved up here. The first one I caught was almost an accident. I'd been catching a mix of small largemouth, redeye, and bluegill then all the sudden I had what I thought was a nice largemouth... 2-3 pounds maybe. What I found when I finally got it in was about one pound, maybe less, smallmouth bass. I've been in love ever since.

Over the last three or four years I've been trying to do more smallmouth fishing; trying to learn more about where, when, and how to catch them with the fly rod. It's been a fun learning experience. And this past Sunday was REALLY fun.

Woody and I motored up the mouth of a small creek he's fished for years. We motored past all the deeper slower water and past all the largemouth fishermen in their bassboats that I have no doubt cost 20 times what Woody paid for his 70's vintage 12' john boat and 7 & 1/2 horse motor. We motored up until we could motor up no more. Then we dragged the boat over a shallow shoal and beached it on an island. Then we started fishing. And boy was the fishing good.

Right off the bat I caught a small smallmouth. Then Woody hooked into and lost two, one right after the other, smallies that looked like they would have been 2 pounds or better. I was fishing a green and white gurgler and he was fishing a streamer. It didn't take me long to switch to a streamer. I tied on a pattern that he tied up derived from a red faced dace and a crystal bugger put together. It was fantastic! We started catching (and losing) smallmouth after smallmouth, running the streamers right along the weed line where there was current and in the deeper runs right below shoals and riffles. It seemed that everywhere you thought a smallmouth should be, they were there.

I was fishing a particular run and Woody was just up stream fishing another when all the sudden I heard him whooping and hollering that he had a BIG one. I looked up just in time to see his 6 weight rod bent way over and then suddenly go straight. I thought he was going to cry right there on the stream bank. Woody's not one to exaggerate and he's caught plenty of fish from his bass tournament days that he knows how to estimate weight. He said it would have gone 3 pounds, maybe more and I believe him. I've seen him lose a number of fish and I've never seen him that upset about losing one before. But I guess if we landed every fish we hooked into it wouldn't be as exciting and we wouldn't keep coming back.

We continued to fish up stream a ways and we both caught some really nice fish as far as I'm concerned. In one run alone we caught about 7 or 8 fish. I caught what was probably my best smallmouth yet which we guessed at little more than 2 pounds.

After wading back down to the boat and eating lunch, we put the boat back in the water and drifted back down stream. We fished the slower water and threw our flies to all the submerged trees and structure that might hold largemouth and caught a good number of them. I even managed to land a nice largemouth... and all I could think was, "if that largemouth would have been a smallmouth, that would have been one hell of a fight!"

Brookies from new water with old friends

A buddy of mine, Jim, and I have been talking about fishing the upper section of a particular headwater steam in search of brookies for a long time. He gets up there once or twice a year or so but I had never fished it. Well all the planets finally aligned (along with our schedules) and he and I finally got to go up there, along with another buddy of mine, Woody. It's a section of stream that takes about a 2 mile hike in, all down hill. Which of course means all up hill coming out. Never the less, its not really a bad hike at all.

The three of us packed a lunch, our wading boots, and filter bottles and dropped in from the top. I was wondering what kind of fishing we'd find with last years drought. I'd seen a difference in the lower sections of the streams in this particular watershed; lesser numbers and smaller trout. So if we'd be able to catch a few and they looked healthy then I'd be happy.

On the way down the logging trail to the stream the mountain laurel and flame azalea were in full bloom. And the woods were full of them both. That alone was almost worth the hike in.

After negotiating our way down the steep hill side into the stream (sometimes on our butts), we found decent water level. Maybe still a little lower than "average" but certainly not like last summer. The real test was when we put a fly on the water. And the first fish was a small rainbow - WHAT! We're supposed to be in brookie water!

Jim said, "Oh, we may have gone a little too far down stream. I didn't remember it being that hard to get down in here." We climbed the water fall in front of us and started fishing again, hoping that that was the barrier that kept the rainbows from coming up any further. And it was. The rest of the day we caught nothing but brookies. All on dry flies of course. And as brookies go, they weren't too picky about what fed them, just that you didn't spook them first. We used EHC, stimulators, parachute adams, sulfurs; you name it we through it at them and they hit. I love brookies!

We fished to the point we started running out of water and where the trail from the top met the stream; so we figured that was a good place to get out. Besides we were tired. It's not the fishing that tires you out but the trail hiking, hill sliding, boulder climbing, and rock hopping that will do that to you.

On the way out, hiking back up the mountain side to the truck we saw a momma bear with two cubs. OK, now THAT was worth the hike in even without the fishing. You don't get to see bears often, even though they are around and there are plenty of them, they are just that secretive, at least outside the GSMNP.

We caught a decent number of fish that day and a few nice size one's too, you know in the 7-8 inch range. Nothing really big but it was better than I expected given the historic drought we had last year. I'd like to give this stream a couple of summers of good rain fall and see how we do then; and you can bet I will... as long as mother nature ever gives us some water back.