 The Troutbitten Podcast is available everywhere that you listen to your podcasts. ** Note ** The Podcast Player, along with links to your favorite players is below. This episode is about exploring the water types of a river to find hungry trout. And we’re thinking...
There are a few extra anglers on the water these days. It’s a Covid thing. And crowded streams have become a popular subject at the bars, in online discussions and in the fly shops. More fishermen is something that most established anglers disdain. It’s a funny thing,...
I fish for trout in moving waters, in creeks and rivers with a gradient and flow that creates frequent breaks, forming the classic riffle, run, pool sequence. And in these river systems, an accomplished fly fisher has the advantage over a skilled bait angler, most...
I’ve been fishing with Smith for over a decade now. And when we first met, he was an inexperienced but eager angler with a pile of questions. Much of what he knew about fly fishing at the time had been learned intuitively, from time spent on the water answering his...
Today, I’m proud to announce the launch of Troutbitten videos, in collaboration with Wilds Media. The journey begins with a video adaptation of, “The River Doesn’t Owe You Anything.” This story has been a Troutbitten favorite since it was published in the spring of 2019. . . . The river gives you what you need. The river gives you what you earn.
Eventually, a river accepts new additions. within a few seasons, time and water make the changes to the riverbed. Nature finds its course, and trout respond.
There is no feeling like the newness of fall and the unanswered questions of a full day ahead . . .
The far bank holds nothing but scattered deer trails and no clear path. Even the deer haven’t seemed to come to any collective agreement on the best course through the floodplain. This river washes out and floods easily, so every big rain knocks down a few overgrown trees that are forced to give up their dominance in the soft ground. Dense brush then takes root around the fallen timber, and saplings compete to fill in the sunny gap left by an old fallen tree. Years later, one of the growing saplings wins and the others die off. The strongest tree grows large enough to cast the shade that eventually becomes its own demise. The dark, ground turns soggy again, and another adult falls quietly into the muddy riverbank . . .
Dawn to daylight. From the dim, sparkling haze of first light, to the breaking solar rays across tree tops. These are the magic hours.
A clean slate. A fresh-faced river. New light and raw beginnings for forgetful fish. Recently out of the darkness, the trout’s guard is down. He trusts more. He worries less.
The new day is a blank canvas — an unwritten chapter of events and plans. Not your plans, but the river’s plans. Because such decisions are not for any of us to choose.
Walk deep into the backcountry one day, cut through the darkness before pre-dawn, and experience this. Arrive before first light to a place untouched for some time. Feel the newness, the virginity of first light among the surrounding hills . . .