Fly-Fishing Gurus

Every year in April, the City of Waynesboro Virginia hosts a Fly-Fishing and Wine Tasting Festival.  Nearly all of Virginia's wineries--the good and not-so-good--set up tasting booths for the festival.  Fly tiers, fishing shops, and guides from the East Coast gather under one tent to hawk the latest gear, fly patterns, and travel destinations.  However, various conservation groups are well represented, including Trout Unlimited and the Coastal Conservation Association.  

After three straight years of attending the event, I have discovered that most of the fly-fishermen come on the first day to browse the latest fly patterns and work out casting kings.  Most of them--including myself--ooh and ah at the presentation of the Alaska Voyage, but blanch at the price of $5,000 per-week.   The second day is filled almost entirely people attracted to the wine-tasting, some to enjoy the wine, others to get drunk.  All in all, a pretty good time.  

This year, a good friend and I attended a casting clinic by Bob Clouser.  For those unaware, Mr. Clouser is the inventor of the Clouser minnow, a yellow and green minnow pattern used for everything from bass to sailfish.   The method of casting he teaches emphasizes linking the shoulder and arm together when casting to develop more power with ease.  To me, it seemed more suitable for salt water, but watching Clouser cast 100 feet in less than 10 seconds was pretty amazing. He also has become a bit of a celebrity amongst fly fishermen.  One of the students in our class exclaimed, "Bob is just so amazing, this class has changed my life."  My friend said, "well, the class was nice, but this guy must have not done much previously." 

Waynesboro's goal with all these activities is to make the local South River a major fly-fishing destination.  Unfortunately there are a number of problems with this idea.  First, to put it mildly, the South River is an "urban fishery."   There is a DuPont Chemical Plant on the river responsible for mercury contamination.  The water also has a disgusting smell to it that stays on your waders and boots for weeks.   Second, the local population is decidedly hostile to fly fishers.  People yell shit at you from the bridges.  There are also homeless people under the bridges who have been known to chase fly-fishermen into the water.  One guy I know who fishes there claims that the "hobos don't like to swim."   Third, and most disturbing, Aryan Nation and Klan graffiti decorate concrete walls near the river.  After seeing these, I decided to never fish there again.  While its a noble idea to turn a post-industrial town into a fly-fishing destination, I just do not see it happening.  

The Return

After a couple of months absent from the blogosphere, I have decided to return.  While I do not like making any excuses, April was a busy month for me.  I had the oral examination for my Ph.D in U.S. History.  The exam is two and a half hours of questioning by four professors.  After the exam,  I did some hard-core fishing and as my friend Alex would say, "chillaxing."  

My buddy Adam and I went up to Waynesboro for the Virginia Fly Fishing Festival.  We took a casting class from Bob Clouser, checked out the new gear, new flies, and sampled some wine.  Wine and fly fishing seem a natural, but pretentious, pair.  

 In May, I returned to Salt Lake City for two weeks.  After the obligatory check-in at Western Rivers, I found out that most of the rivers were blown out from runoff.  But my brother Jesse and I had a great time fishing Huntington Creek, a tailwater 3 hours away.  

After returning in June, I started bass fishing in Virginia and in July, I made the annual pilgrimage to the Green River back in Utah.  More on each of these events in posts to come.  For now, enjoy the nice picture of a Green River Brown. 

Obama the Fly Fisher

While campaigning in Montana, Obama expressed interest in fly fishing.  He said, "This is some pretty country.  I think I need to learn fly fishing, get myself some waders."  A local man who held up a "Trout for Obama" sign was ecstatic about the news.  I've always thought that those who enjoy fishing and hunting better protect the resources and the outdoors.  Then again, Dick Cheney is a fly fisherman. 

Conway/Moorman's

This past weekend I had the opportunity of fishing twice, once at the Conway River and once at the North Fork of the Moorman's.  At the Conway, I got some small 6-7 inch brown trout.  An interesting finding considering the rumors that have been going around at this river.  According to local fly shop legend, the Department of Fish and Game removed all the brown trout from this river two years ago in an effort to replenish the native brook trout population.  I brought my findings to local TU President Chubby Damron.  Chubby just smiled, went into his truck and showed me a picture of a 22 inch brown he had pulled out of the Conway.  Apparently the stories of brown trout removal were just rumors. 

The next day I headed up to my usual stalking grounds at the Moorman's River.  A local boy scout completed an Eagle Scout Project by improving streamside access and building a mulch path leading to the river.  The path will help handicapped people access the fishing at Trout Unlimited events and saves some bushwhacking through briars.   The North Fork was fishing very well this weekend.  I fished downstream, swinging olive wooly buggers to pick up some very nice brook trout.  I caught the largest one yet in the stream, a nice 12-incher.  May not sound like much, but a 12 inch brook trout in one of these mountain streams is a veritable monster.  The reservoir at the bottom of the Moorman's also had great fishing.  I picked up several nice brookies on wooly buggers.   Sorry, no pictures.  I was fishing by myself! 

The Boise Trip Part II

The day after the films, I went fly fishing at the Boise River running right through downtown Boise.  After attending some conference seminars in the morning, I headed off to a local fly shop called the Idaho Angler to buy some flies and a license.  As usual, I got lost en-route and had to stop at a local bike shop to ask for directions.  Much to my surprise, the bike shop owner was an avid fisherman.  Noticing my fly rod and reel, he asked, "Bro, is that a Sage?"  "Do you have a Lamson?"  Laughing, I explained my preference for Scott rods.   "Bamboo is the best anyway," he responded.  The guy gave me directions and some advice for fishing the Boise River.  

After arriving at the fly shop, I got some supplies and chatted with the guys about the local fishing.  They told me that though Idaho does not get the same press as Montana, Oregon, and Utah, the trout and steelhead fishing can be phenomenal.   Next time I'm there, I will be sure to fish the Owyhee, which is supposed to be similar to the Green River of Utah.  This trip, I only had a chance to fish the river in town. 

Though I did not catch anything in two hours at the river, I could tell that Boise was a fishing town.  Between the film audience, the bike shop owner, and the plethora of fly fisherman squatting over the prime water, it seemed as if everyone in the city fished.  

The Boise Trip Part I

Finally, the long awaited post on Boise, Idaho.  The trip began rather inauspiciously.  My friend Andrew and I spent over 3 hours in Washington, D.C. traffic on the way to the Baltimore airport.  Driving my pickup truck, a manual, in stop-and-go was not very fun.   We finally arrived at the Grove Hotel in Boise at 1:30 am, only to find out that the fine establishment had given away our previously reserved room.  Though "it was a policy he disagreed with," the attendant explained that the hotel purposely overbooked rooms to plan for cancellations.   The Grove decided to put us in "murphy bedrooms," box suites overlooking the local hockey stadium.  

The first day I attended all the conference events, trying to schmooze with other historians and learn from the presentations.  After the second day, however, I got a chance to attend the Fly Fishing Film Tour.   My father, who was also in Boise attending a conference, joined me.   What surprised me most about the event was the level of enthusiasm.  Over 200 people, ranging from young kids to retirees, attended the event in a stadium style movie theater.   It was a very different age range than the skiing films I have attended.  Only a few of the films were shown in their entirety.  River Poets and Equilibrium documented the threat posed by the Pebble Mine to the ecosystem near Katmai National Park.  The film tour also showed the trailer for Red Gold by Felt Soul Media.  I heard some boos when the preview showed the mine's spokesman trying to defend the enterprise.   If you have not done so already, please take action to stop the Pit Mine at www.savebristolbay.com.  

Something else that impressed me about the films was the focus on conserving wild species. In fly-fishing's history, this sentiment is very recent.  During the 1920s, for example, game managers at Colorado's Rocky Mountain National Park replaced the native greenback cutthroat with introduced rainbows and brook trout.  Anglers from the East favored these species over the natives.  The AEG Film River Wolf features fly-fishing for the largest trout species in the world--the Taimen.  Taimen are only found in Mongolia and can grow up to five feet long.  Destinations covers an expedition into Slovenia to catch Marble Trout, a rare pearly white species.  Hopefully these films will cultivate angling interest in native species  so that they are not replaced by imports or harmed by habitat loss.  

No Fishing :(

Unfortunately no striper fishing occurred this weekend.  Out of pure stupidity, I planned the trip going out of Norfolk Virginia when I wanted to fish in the D.C. area.  Between torrential rain and the prospect of a three hour drive, my friend Mike and I decided to bag it and try again in May.  Our guide, Tommy Mattioli, was kind enough to let us cancel.  

In other news, I will be leaving soon for the Environmental History Conference in Boise, Idaho.  While there, I will visit the fly fishing film tour and report on what I see.  Hopefully when I return to Charlottesville, the brookies will be out in full force.  The streams have been helped by the recent rain and warm weather.