Tonight we’re here to talk about why we fish. It’s a simple question. Why do we commit so much of our free time and efforts, our thoughts and our daydreams . . . to fishing?
It’s the same natural pursuit that brought us all down to the water from the beginning.
You can move the fly ten inches across seams. You can jerk strip, jig and twitch the streamer with jumpy and choppy motions or you can do all of it super smooth. Which do the trout prefer?
Moving the fly with the rod tip and not just the line hand is a fundamental skill that opens up many presentations that bring trout to a streamer.
The jerk strip is critical for any serious streamer angler. It’s a must-have skill for animating the fly — for selling the streamer to a fish. And it’s the baseline for what I think of as a jig strip, a twitch strip, a glide strip, a head flip and twitch, a lane change, and much more. At its core, the jerk strip is a hand off from left to right — it’s about moving the fly with the rod tip and then recovering with the line hand. In this way, the jerk strip sets the table for everything else . . .
Should we always fish barbless? Maybe not. The answer isn’t that simple. So the Troutbitten guys are here for a conversation and a few thoughts about barbs on hooks.
Each one of us has fished for long enough that we’ve used both barbed and barbless flies. We’ve also used barbs on lures and bait hooks, because we all grew up fishing in different ways. Some anglers who jump right into the fly fishing game — especially for trout — are exposed to a another sentiment. So their reference points are different. And like anything else, what might seem almost outlandish to one person can seem like no big deal to another.
We know that different patterns work for trout at different times, but it’s helpful to acknowledge that some flies move trout a lot further than others.
So what kinds of flies motivate trout to move a little further?
Every angler needs a set of flies to call their own. Among the thousands of patterns, options and choices out there, eventually, we sort out a handful of confidence flies.
Our faith in these flies gives us conviction when choosing them and tying the knot. We’ll fish THIS fly in THIS water. That’s what will catch the next trout. And if it doesn’t, then we’ll change something — maybe the water type, maybe the presentation, maybe the rig. Or maybe we’ll reach for the next confidence fly.
You can roam the river, mending, drifting and stripping, casting into every corner pocket and straight channel. You have the skills to present the fly, the consummate awareness of currents and flows and the stamina to wade rough water for hours on end. But can you imagine a target? Can you picture a trout feeding in the hydraulic swirl behind an unseen chunk of bedrock on the river bottom? Can you believe the trout is there? . . .
The capacity to imagine a trout in the river is a next-level skill that’s only earned by thoughtful time on the water . . .
Our skill for leading the nymphs through a good drift and aiming for perfection is what puts trout in the net more predictably than any other approach.
In this podcast episode, the Troutbitten crew holds a philosophical discussion about ethics in fishing. It’s not a list of concrete examples or rules. It’s an interesting, thought provoking conversation.
We mend to prevent tension on the dry fly or the indicator. All flies could drift drag free in the current if not for tension from the attached leader. So it’s our job to eliminate or at least limit that tension on the tippet and to the fly.
This Hop Mend is an arch. It’s a steep and quick half-oval. It’s a fast motion up, over and down with the fly rod. It’s powerful and swift, but not overdone . . .