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Those of you who have read my book know that prior to kayak fishing my angling background was primarily wading freshwater rivers for smallmouth with a fly rod. Occasionally I would venture to PA to test the Yellow Breeches for trout. But by no way am I experienced in catching freshwater trout. So, when I got an opportunity to join an outing of the Free State Fly Fishers to the Casselman River in Grantsville, MD this weekend I thought I would rekindle an old interest. I’m glad I did.
I learned a lot. I learned that I missed the joy of driving along a country road bordering a river searching for a place to pull over and pull on my waders.
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I learned that I missed the interesting sights one encounters in the country. For example, a road going right through the center of an Amish farm…house on the left, barn on the right.
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I learned that I missed the peaceful beauty of a river in a pastoral setting.
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Most of all, I learned how exasperating trout can be. Whereas much of kayak angling in tidal waters is dash and splash, hunting trout in a river is an exercise in patience, subtlety and pinpoint presentation.
Observation is critical. You look to see what insects are hovering near the surface of the water to match the hatch. That is not just an idle saying but very important if you want to trick a wary trout. Caddis flies were prevalent this weekend making this elk hair caddis a pretty good approximation to entice a hungry trout:
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Then you look for rises of feeding fish. You won’t see the turbulence of hungry stripers savaging bait fish on the surface. Instead you’ll see a small dimple on the water. Or you might hear a slight sipping sound. Then your goal is to float your fly over that spot as naturally as possible. That means no drag – i.e. the current grabbing your fly line and pulling your fly abnormally fast through the feeding zone. Where a feeding striper might be encouraged to chase a fast-moving bait, trout recognize an unnatural drift and will ignore a fly floating in that manner.
Sending a long cast upstream to create a good float precisely over a feeding trout is another skill required. That was actually quite an enjoyable test for me. Casting bass bugs and heavy Clouser Minnows from the non-stationary platform of a bobbing kayak can be inelegant. But casting a 4-weight rod with a small size 12 fly while my feet were firmly planted on the river bottom was simple. It was textbook fly casting. I’ve often thought that casting large warm water flies will make a person a better all-around fly caster. I think I proved that concept to myself this weekend.
If you do all of the above right, your chances are pretty good at hooking up with a rainbow trout. I had fair success in getting four to my net while losing several others. Here are two that didn’t get away:
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But you can also see the telltale dimple in the water, loft a perfect cast, make a flawless drift, strike exactly at the moment of the bite, and end up with this:
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A chub!
So, trout fishing can be humbling. But the rewards it offers are the pristine environment in which they live and the satisfaction of fooling one of the most challenging fish there is to catch.
Also, the skills I had transferred from my freshwater experiences to my kayak angling came back to me fully. For example, reading a river current to see its seams. It’s the same as noticing a rip in tidal water and launching a cast to its edge because there’s a good chance a striper will be waiting for bait to flow by in that seam. Finding fish holding in an eddy behind a rock in a river is the same as tossing a lure behind a piling facing the tide. Knowing that feeding fish face the current, are oriented to structure and prefer locations with nearby variations in depth are three other similarities between river wading and kayaking tidal waters.
Lastly, I was taken by what Maryland has to offer to anglers. Only five days ago I was tussling with two cownose rays that I had hooked simultaneously while trolling for stripers near Goodhands Creek. Yesterday and today I was standing in the serene Casselman River in Maryland’s Allegheny Mountains catching rainbow trout on the fly. As Marylanders, we are extremely fortunate to have those varied angling opportunities relatively close at hand.
I learned a lot. I learned that I missed the joy of driving along a country road bordering a river searching for a place to pull over and pull on my waders.
P1020810.jpg
I learned that I missed the interesting sights one encounters in the country. For example, a road going right through the center of an Amish farm…house on the left, barn on the right.
P1010696.jpg P1010697.jpg
I learned that I missed the peaceful beauty of a river in a pastoral setting.
P1010668.jpg P1010672.jpg P1010686.jpg
Most of all, I learned how exasperating trout can be. Whereas much of kayak angling in tidal waters is dash and splash, hunting trout in a river is an exercise in patience, subtlety and pinpoint presentation.
Observation is critical. You look to see what insects are hovering near the surface of the water to match the hatch. That is not just an idle saying but very important if you want to trick a wary trout. Caddis flies were prevalent this weekend making this elk hair caddis a pretty good approximation to entice a hungry trout:
P1010688.jpg
Then you look for rises of feeding fish. You won’t see the turbulence of hungry stripers savaging bait fish on the surface. Instead you’ll see a small dimple on the water. Or you might hear a slight sipping sound. Then your goal is to float your fly over that spot as naturally as possible. That means no drag – i.e. the current grabbing your fly line and pulling your fly abnormally fast through the feeding zone. Where a feeding striper might be encouraged to chase a fast-moving bait, trout recognize an unnatural drift and will ignore a fly floating in that manner.
Sending a long cast upstream to create a good float precisely over a feeding trout is another skill required. That was actually quite an enjoyable test for me. Casting bass bugs and heavy Clouser Minnows from the non-stationary platform of a bobbing kayak can be inelegant. But casting a 4-weight rod with a small size 12 fly while my feet were firmly planted on the river bottom was simple. It was textbook fly casting. I’ve often thought that casting large warm water flies will make a person a better all-around fly caster. I think I proved that concept to myself this weekend.
If you do all of the above right, your chances are pretty good at hooking up with a rainbow trout. I had fair success in getting four to my net while losing several others. Here are two that didn’t get away:
P1010679.jpg P1010694.jpg
But you can also see the telltale dimple in the water, loft a perfect cast, make a flawless drift, strike exactly at the moment of the bite, and end up with this:
P1010692.jpg
A chub!
So, trout fishing can be humbling. But the rewards it offers are the pristine environment in which they live and the satisfaction of fooling one of the most challenging fish there is to catch.
Also, the skills I had transferred from my freshwater experiences to my kayak angling came back to me fully. For example, reading a river current to see its seams. It’s the same as noticing a rip in tidal water and launching a cast to its edge because there’s a good chance a striper will be waiting for bait to flow by in that seam. Finding fish holding in an eddy behind a rock in a river is the same as tossing a lure behind a piling facing the tide. Knowing that feeding fish face the current, are oriented to structure and prefer locations with nearby variations in depth are three other similarities between river wading and kayaking tidal waters.
Lastly, I was taken by what Maryland has to offer to anglers. Only five days ago I was tussling with two cownose rays that I had hooked simultaneously while trolling for stripers near Goodhands Creek. Yesterday and today I was standing in the serene Casselman River in Maryland’s Allegheny Mountains catching rainbow trout on the fly. As Marylanders, we are extremely fortunate to have those varied angling opportunities relatively close at hand.
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